The Field

She stood there, in the field. Her alone, facing the
multitude before her. The only help she could call upon felt like it was miles
away. Clothed in green and sneers, they laughed at her, the whole legion of
them. Defiance littered the air about them, as they waved their banners two and
fro, an army not unlike a field of weeds.

How did I get myself
into this? She wondered. There was no way to defeat this horror. There were
millions of them, and only one of her. 
She wasn’t ready for something like this.

The sun beat down upon them all, completely unforgiving of
the battle that was about to ensue. The light and heat took no sides, felt no
preference, even though it weakened her and
strengthened them.  She knew this was going to be a tough
battle, and she wasn’t even sure that she’d win.  How could she possibly defeat them all? Who was she among so many?

There was nothing she had faced quite like this before,
though she was not terrified. Never terrified. Death could overtake her at any
moment, she knew that. Hopefully, not today.

Ever still and silent, they smiled, and waited. They would
patiently wait here forever, growing ever stronger, taller, before her very
eyes.

Still, she had to surge forward. This was her call. This was
her duty. There was no turning back now.

Gripping her blade within gloved hands, she roared into
battle. Hundreds fell  before her. To her
left and her right she swung high and low. Thousands of tiny knives  responded in kind, piercing her clothes.
Though they stung, some deeper than others, she gritted her teeth and continued
to fight.

The backlash was horrendous. Dirt and gravel flew at her,
and where her blade connected with the stone sparks would fly out, threatening to
ignite the entire field. Though it would help her cause, she thought, it would
also kill her.

A breeze to her left alerted her to the presence of many
more green clothed soldiers. She swung wide, and something hot, fire in essence
entered her nostrils. She choked in horror and began to sneeze.

“What trickery is this??” She spoke to no one but herself
and God, as these things would not understand her. A few moments later and the
sensation was gone, though she coughed up something stringy, like grass.

“Ugh.” She muttered, even more determined.

Fighting for what seemed like hours, she pressed on, cutting
a swath through the enemy. Still wincing at the bite of millions of arrows, at
her legs, she moved onward, struggling to put one foot in front of the other.
The enemy continued to lash out at her, their skinny arms brandishing whip like
tentacles, each covered in thousands of burs that would stick to her skin.

She would not falter, she would not quit. Even now, as her
right hand felt numb, and she wondered if she’d even be able to pry it off the
handle of her blade when she was done.

Looking up, she noticed how many more waited for her. So many. This field was full of the enemy,  undaunted
at her presence. If she could understand them, nay, even hear them speak, she know they would say, through smiles,  “Continue
on, brave soldier. We will never end. Even though you strike at us now we will
grow. We will surge on. We have before you came, and when you are gone, so too,
shall we ever be.”

The furrow in her brow deepened, knowing their words were
true. Yet, she still would not
relent.

Then it happened. Suddenly her blade stopped swinging.

“No.”

The roar ceased, and her enemies laughed, green banners
swaying in the breeze.”

“NO!”

The end had finally come for this battle, as the weed
whacker had run out of gas, and the motor had shut down.

Sighing deeply, she put the blade down, angrily. The field
of weeds simply stood there, swaying back and forth, almost taunting her as if
to say, “Go. We will wait.”