By Amber Francis

We stare at them, across the no-man’s land, and they stare at us.

Two armies, paused on the brink of war. Lines of soldiers, armed to the teeth. The outcome is anyone’s guess. My heart is beating like a drum. The drums of war. I am frightened. I am terrified. I am exhilarated. When will it begin?

The battle cry sounds, and we let loose. There is not enough ammunition. A cannon ball slams into the legs of the soldier beside me, and we salvage it. I’m half horrified by the brutality. We can’t save the comrade, but we can save the ammunition. Heavy bullets arc across no-man’s land, deadly. If they hit right they’re fatal.  But the distance makes accuracy harder and dodging easier. To take down more of the enemy, running out into the feral territory is your best bet. But not when they come out, too. They can’t make it past our blockades, and we can’t make it past theirs, but out there, it’s all a wild melee. Dangerous place, no-man’s land.

Both sides are taking casualties, heavily. The battle is swift. The fighting is fierce. The losses are rapid. We are winning. There is only a fraction of their well-ordered line remaining. There is only a fraction of ours, also, but we are more, we are still organised, we are coolly confident and know what we must do. We have most of the ammunition. They are frightened, and helpless, and full of the stragglers from the back of the line.

We charge into no-man’s land. All ammunition is fired. Fire, fire, fire! Cannon balls hurtle into their remaining, dishevelled ranks. They are going. They are gone. One last cannon ball flies through the air and catches me unaware, but I don’t care, I am leaping and laughing and smiling because we won.

We all shake hands, and get ready for the next battle. Dodgeball is an intense game.