The First Battle

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: War and Military  |  House: Booksie Classic
Half an hour and a bit of imagination and thus this story was born. Please critique it :)

Submitted: January 03, 2011

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Submitted: January 03, 2011



“How did she do?” Asked my mother, eyeing the green stain on the doctor's shirt.

Dr. Smith ruffled his hair and the nurse with the clipboard said, “It was a little hectic, but off to a good start.” The doctor nodded a little bit.

“And do you think it helped any?” My mother asked me.

“Eh,” I said. I had just noticed that the nurse’s shoelaces were different colors.


My first counseling session with Smith was better than I had expected. There was not doubt from the very first moment that this, ladies and gentlemen, was full on WAR.

I sat in a couch, my arms wrapped around a giant pillow. The silence stretched out until the intake of breath could be heard echoing like thunder.

“So are you going to counsel me?” I asked suspiciously, and cracked every knuckle, one at a time. I gave him a look of defiance, like a wild horse that has been captured but never shall be tamed. I flared my nostrils a bit and snorted, just to enforce that idea.

He spoke to me the way my dad used to speak when he was on the phone with an automated answering service.

“yes.” Smith over pronounced.

“Well… well I’m not a frikkin robot!!” I threw a pillow at his face and dove behind the couch, gathering ammunition as I went.

“Calm down,” Said Smith, “You aren’t in any danger. You can come out from behind the couch, Mia.”

“NEVER!” I ran for the hallway, but stumbled and somersaulted back behind the door for cover. On the other side of the wall I heard something crash, and an “Uhh?”


To my utter joy my cry met with success. My savior walked through the door with an expression of eager blankness, his crispy dark brown hair looking quite artistic. The fact that I was huddled in the corner made him seem even taller than however tall he was, but even so, I knew we could take on the doctor like no one’s business. I tossed him one of my pillows and our eyes met in understanding.

We both screamed a war cry and charged. The doctor was helpless to our onslaught, and before we knew what was happening feathers and pillow stuffing flew. I laughed maniacally and said, “YOU SHALL NEVER TAME ME!!!” I tried to whinny, but either they weren’t impressed with it or my friend and the doctor were engrossed in their fight.

I realized that the doctor had been cornered, and my friend was waving a chair at him and giggling. But the doctor apparently had a few moves himself: he lunged forward and grabbed the chair, spinning away from the taller youth and making a break for the door. I tossed my friend a couch cushion and took another for myself, and we charged down the hallway after the doctor.

He was trying to find refuge in the craft room. I saw another girl seated, drawing a picture of a pig. It was dark green. She seemed like she could join the war, so I said, “Join us! We’re overthrowing their leader!” She looked up, but didn’t seem to comprehend.

Once again the doctor was cornered. And once again we were surprised as he grabbed a bin of foam crafts and started chucking them at us like ninja stars. We held up the couch cushions to ward off the blows, and shrieked for backup.

The drawing girl caught on at last and ran up with her green marker unsheathed. Before we could do anything, the doctor had a long green slash across his face and white lab shirt. The doctor grabbed a phone and started to dial.

“Retreat!” Yelled the girl, flinging her marker at the doctor. We dropped our weapons and raced back out of the room, where a nurse with a clipboard and smart-looking glasses stopped us. She looked at the doctor, behind us, who apparently didn’t look too overjoyed – and burst out laughing.

As I waited for Mum to come pick me up I sat in the front office with my new friend. The girl had already gone home. As we sat in our respective chairs, I said “Thanks. You saved my life back there.”

He grinned and nodded.

“What’s your name?”

He blinked. “It… oh it’s uh…….Matthew. What’s yours?”

“Mia,” I said.

“You don’t stay here, do you?”

“No. Mum is picking me up soon.”


Just then the door opened, and there was Mum. As we left the room to get a report from the doctor, I thought I heard him whisper, “bye Mia.” I waved backwards a little as I left.


“You behaved yourself, right?” Asked Mum.

I looked out the car window as we pulled out of the nearly empty parking lot. My attention was occupied with the face peering down from the second story building of the Psychological and Support Rehabilitation Facility. He has blue eyes, I remembered. I realized blue is my favorite color.

“Are you looking forward to your next visit?”

“Eh,” I said. But if I had been paying attention, I would have said yes.


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