Metaphor Madness By: Rebecca Park

Life is a story book. There are enjoyable parts, miserable parts, exhilarating parts, and there are detailed parts that you want skip because they are so boring. You never know what will happen next. At times there might be a foresight to the next chapter, but occasionally the book is anything but predictable. Some stories are a fast read, while others might take you a few weeks or even months. Several books are love stories, and a few are tragedies. Books can be thick or thin, heartbreaking or not worth reading. But every story is unique. It just depends on the author.

Life is a lot like a book now that you think about it, huh? Like I sort of mentioned in my last blog, your life is yours to do what. Only you can water your grass. Or write your own story, just like the author of a book. The author can make the story a tragedy not worth remembering, or they can write something that you would remember through out your life just because of the events that seemed so real. Have you ever picked up a book like that? One that just stays in your mind even though you finished it long ago? You can’t get it out of your head. You keep making connections from the book to the real world. It’s excruciating but also relaxing in an odd way.

My memory is a tragedy that would most likely not be easily remembered by anyone else but me. I have always looked up to my brother. What was there not to look up to? Good grades; very active athlete; good at anything he tried, even the stuff he didn’t want to do. Basically your prince in a fairy tale, not with out flaws but no one seems to see them any way. He is my role model. Most of you probably have older brothers that treat you like your nothing at all to them. You just wish that he would pay attention to you, if not in a respectful way then in a negative way. Its like a princess trying to get her father’s attention by being just like her brothers and taking up fencing, but the King still doesn’t notice her because he still holds on to the belief that girls can’t fence. But at the end of the story, the King figures out that his little girl is better at fighting then his sons and it’s a happy ending.

That is kind of how my brother and I get along, the happy ending were there is respect at last. Many of you won’t believe this, but that is how it is. But there is one tragedy in this happy ending that took so long to get to. My brother and I have only been allies for a short time, but when he told me he was going to go of to war my happiness collapsed. I know that this might be a good thing for him, getting out of Utah and seeing some of the world, and I know that there might be a happy ending again when he comes back; he promised me that in four years, when he comes home, I will be out of high school and with the money he would save up, we could go travel the world some more. But I still can’t stop feeling as if the rock I stand has just collapsed. As if I am shooting down a rabbit hole and don’t know where I will end up. Even though I know that this choice might be for the best, I have a fear of something going wrong. I’ve always thought of my brother as sort of invincible, but know I dread he might not come home this time. I fear for him. I can cope with just about anything, but I just don’t know how to deal with this. It’s quick sand.