12 November 2017: Recording #418

I was born in Anarchy

The Battlefield was my city

My Veteran general was my temporary caretaker

Boom -- a cannon goes off

My Veteran is gone

At a young age, my militia and I moved to another Checkpoint

I am put into a new Training ground

I am placed in an Armada

I am ranked in the middle

But the Leader of the armada chooses me

To berate me

To bully me

To toughen me

 

My Mission:

Annihilate all enemies

Work your way to the top

Become the General

 

It took seven years

 

A year later, I am placed in a different armada

I’m thirteen now

These Soldiers are different

clean, pristine, conformed

Not a drop of Blood on them

They see I’m different, and they mock me for it

But they don’t know

     The struggle is real

Thirteen years worth of it

No, not with God as their only Defense

 

But underneath that gold little halo is Chaos

Manipulation and Envy

against me

And not even from the generals

But from the Privates and Lieutenants

I tasted a lot of salt for two years

At one point I wondered if I ought to taste my own blood

But that’s not what my Veteran taught me

So I took the issue to my Commander

The woman in charge

She reminded me of my Allies

My own Battalion from my post armada

“Keep fighting. Don’t let the smell of the Gun powder choke and kill you.

You have allies who are there for you regardless of your Battlestation.

These pale privates don’t know who they’re messing with”

But the armada base wasn’t so bad

I met one private who would have my respect till my dying breath.

Private Dominguez

That girl will be force to be reckon with on the battlefield

It was time to move again

This time to a women only base

Currently, where I am assigned

Here, women proudly wear their halos

Dented from cold, sleepless nights and old battle scars

I’m almost done

Conquering the enemy

Just one more year

Lieutenant Smith, signing out

End of recording