Battle Wounds
“Be kind…for everyone you meet is fighting a battle you know nothing about”. Think about these words as you live your daily life. Take these stories and carry them with you.
These short stories are composed of fictional characters and fictional experiences. However, each story carries a sad truth. Somewhere out there a real person is facing struggles just like the ones these characters will share with you. Learn something from them and don’t ever forget the message. These tales may lead you to one of the most important lessons of your life.
Pete 18, Redbank, NJ:
The sun has set and the stars are out. It’s pretty quiet in this small town. It’s a Monday night in September. This season for me is the most dreadful time of year. Most people look forward to new beginnings, but for me there never will be a new beginning. I am stuck in the same hole that I’ve been digging for years. High school is supposed to be the best four years of your life. Right now I’m supposed to be playing some sport, probably football, and joking with the other guys. Smacking each other with towels after practice like a bunch of idiots and hopping into our cars and racing down the road trying to show off on our way home. But that’s not the case for me. Instead I’m speeding home alone, trying to stay out of everyone’s way. Once the bell rings at 2:30 I can’t get down the hall and out the front doors fast enough. I avoid eye contact with everyone, trying to lay under the radar. It’s better that way. This way nobody will laugh at me or make up some sick joke. Nobody will point out the fact that I’ve been wearing the same sneakers since I was a freshman or talk about how long my hair is. They won’t comment on how gay I look in my pants because they fit snug or about how I’m some freak because I listen to hardcore music. At least I listen to instruments and not some stupid pop song made from the computer. Those people have no talent… and neither do I. I can’t do anything special. My parents don’t really have much to do with me anymore. They kind of gave up on me. I kind of gave up on myself, I guess. I guess I’ll go back to what I was doing… listening to music and staring at the ceiling until I fall asleep. The alarm clock will buzz soon and I’ll have to yank myself out of bed and enter the normal world once again. A place where I feel anything but normal.

Maya, 17, Seaford, DE
It’s spring. The weather is warming up and it’s just about the time where my mom asks me to go shopping with her. Every year she tells me I can get whatever bathing suit I want, no matter what and is always trying to get me to buy the skimpiest shorts and tiniest t-shirts. She always tells me how perfect my body is for summer clothes and I should flaunt what I have before it’s too late. What she doesn’t realize is I already feel like it’s too late. I have a great mom, who is always supportive and tells me how beautiful I am, but she doesn’t get it. She doesn’t get that I feel like an out of shape fat lard marching around with thunders thighs in my bikini on the beach. Somehow my mom always talks me into the bathing suit with the least amount of fabric that gives me the least amount of confidence. Then she wonders why I wait till the last possible minute to take my shorts off at the beach. I can’t stand another day at the beach where the hottest guy ever walks by and I‘m laying out sun bathing my fat thighs. I’ve been trying to get into shape and I still can’t find the motivation to get off the couch. Instead of working out I get a soft pretzel and a soda to make myself feel better. That’s sure not helping anything. I stepped on the scale this morning and it read one hundred and six pounds. Maybe if I could just lose five pounds…

Charlie, 15, Denver, CO
Anywhere but this place is where I want to be. I’m tired of him screaming at her. I’m tired of him grabbing her. I’m tired of him pushing her. I’m tired of him slapping her. I’m tired of hearing her beg and cry out for him to stop. I can’t take another night of it. He’ll be home soon. Right now she’s sitting at the table where she has his meal prepared. It is 6:50 pm. She just laid the roast turkey on the table. In about two minutes she will take the frozen vegetables from the microwave and place them in a glass dish on the dining room table. Everything is in order, just the way he likes it. Yet, he still won’t be satisfied. He’ll stumble in right around 7:00, after happy hour, already drunk, and he’ll complain about everything in sight. He’ll complain about a piece of lint on the carpet, if he doesn’t like the color lipstick my beautiful mother is wearing, or about any other stupid thing he can find. Anything he can say or do to insult my mother. It’s like he has a list of evil things to accomplish while he eats the wonderful meal my mother prepared for him. My mom puts so much effort into dinner hoping one night she’ll make him happy. All she gets in return is a smack in the face because of how disgusting she looks and how disgusting the dinner tastes. He’ll sit down on the couch with a beer in one hand and the remote control in the other. If the batteries are dead in the remote, mom gets beat again. This time he’ll slam her into the wall that I am on the other side of and remind her how stupid she is for not changing the batteries before he got home. One night I swear I’m going to slam him into my wall. I can’t take another night of my bruised up mom crying in my arms. As I wipe her tears away with my sleeve I remind her that I love her.

Rebecca, 17, Riverside, CA
It’s Friday night and I’m sitting home. Instead of being a normal teenage girl, out with her friends, going to parties, and having a blast- I’m sitting on the couch with my mom. We’re watching chick flicks and eating ice cream. My mom and I are both really lonely people. My mom hasn’t been on a date since my dad past away when I was five. It came as such a shock. My parents were so in love. One night on his way home from work my dad was in a fatal car accident. A teenage driver running a red light plowed into my dad’s truck killing him instantly. I don’t remember much because I was so young but what I do remember is the smile my mom’s face used to hold. I haven’t seen that smile in twelve years. I’m seventeen now and still haven’t been on my first date. How could I ever tell my mom I was going on a date and leave her home alone on a Friday night? What kind of best friend would I be? I’m all my mom has. We’re all each other has. I wish my mom could be happy. It’s all I could ever ask for. I wish my mom could meet someone new, but I understand why she doesn’t want to. We’ve talked about it on occasion when I think she’s feeling up to it and she always tells me the same thing. She’ll say “Your dad was the perfect man, a great husband, and perfect father. He was one of a kind and irreplaceable”. Each time she utters these words tiny tear drops seep out of her eyes. Every time we talk about daddy I watch her heart break again, as if she just heard the news for the first time. I hope one day I find a love like my parents. Maybe then my mom’s smile will return and she can be happy for me.
Listening to the stories of Pete, Maya, Charlie, and Rebecca is hard to do. It’s hard to not feel sorry for each of them in one way or another. If these characters were real life people I’m sure you’d be nice to them and be their friend, knowing what you now know about them. So, next time you’re judging someone, teasing them, or making fun of them for one reason or another remember there are real people out there just like these characters. Every person is battling something. Whether it’s a large or small problem that person is facing, everyone deserves to be treated kindly. You never know what is going to effect a person in a major way. One small, inconsiderate comment that doesn’t seem that offensive could crush a person on the inside. Take a step back. Think before you speak. Treat others how you would want to be treated. Live a kind life. Love yourself and the others around you.