BREATHLESS STRUGGLE'S
1037 Words
Breathless Battles
By Abuzar Awan
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Prologue
Life doesn’t come with a manual. There’s no guidebook on how to face hardships or how to rise when the weight of the world crushes you. My story begins not in a moment of triumph, but in struggle—a breathless battle against odds that seemed insurmountable.
From the very start, I faced challenges that shaped me into who I am today. Each trial felt like climbing an endless mountain, gasping for air as I pushed forward against storms that refused to let up. But through every struggle, I found a strength I never imagined I had.
This is the story of my journey—of resilience, heartbreak, and, ultimately, triumph. It is a testament to the power of the human spirit, even in the face of overwhelming odds.
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Chapter 1: A Fragile Beginning
The earliest memory I have is of struggling to breathe. I was just a toddler in a bustling city in Pakistan when the diagnosis came. Asthma, they called it. At the time, I didn’t understand the gravity of those words, but my parents did. From that moment on, my life was filled with inhalers, medications, and whispered prayers for my safety.
My childhood was a strange contradiction. On one hand, I was surrounded by love—my parents were my protectors, shielding me from the harsh realities of life. But on the other, I felt isolated. My condition set me apart from the other kids, who seemed to live in a world of boundless energy and carefree play.
I remember watching them from the sidelines, my little body too fragile to keep up. The sound of their laughter was both comforting and painful, a reminder of what I couldn’t do. Running left me breathless, and even simple games became impossible. I wanted to join in, to be a part of their world, but my body had other plans.
The first time I felt truly different was during a game of tag. I had begged my parents to let me play, promising to be careful. But after just a few minutes, my chest tightened, and I couldn’t catch my breath. As the other kids kept running, I sat on the ground, clutching my inhaler and fighting back tears.
That day, I realized something that would stay with me for years: life was not going to be easy.
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Chapter 2: The Weight of the World
As I grew older, asthma became just one of the battles I faced. School was supposed to be a place of learning and growth, but for me, it was a battlefield. I wore glasses, I was a little overweight, and I couldn’t keep up with the other kids in sports. These differences made me an easy target.
“You’re too slow.” “Why do you look like that?”
Their words were like daggers, cutting into my confidence. I tried to ignore them, but the laughter always followed me, echoing in my mind long after the day was over. I began to withdraw, spending my recesses alone and avoiding eye contact in the hallways.
But the hardest part wasn’t the bullying—it was the silence. I felt like I couldn’t talk to anyone about what I was going through. My parents did their best to support me, but I didn’t want to burden them with my pain. So I kept it all inside, letting it fester until it felt like a storm raging within me.
I often lay awake at night, staring at the ceiling and replaying the cruel words in my mind. I wondered why I couldn’t be like everyone else, why I had to carry this invisible weight on my chest and in my heart.
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Chapter 3: Silent Nights
Asthma didn’t just steal my days—it haunted my nights. Lying in bed, I’d feel the familiar tightness in my chest, as if an invisible hand was pressing down, refusing to let me breathe freely. Some nights were worse than others. I’d wake up gasping for air, the room spinning as panic set in.
Those moments were terrifying. My parents would rush to my side, their faces etched with worry. They’d hold me, whispering soothing words and telling me I’d be okay. But the fear never really went away. It lingered, a constant reminder of how fragile life could be.
In those silent nights, I felt utterly alone. Even with my parents by my side, there was a loneliness that came from within. I wanted to scream, to cry, to ask why this was happening to me. But instead, I endured, waiting for the storm to pass.
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Chapter 4: Shadows of Bullying
If my nights were battles with asthma, my days were battles with the world. School became a place I dreaded. The taunts, the laughter, the constant reminder that I was different—it all weighed heavily on me.
One day, a group of boys cornered me during lunch. “Hey, fatso,” one of them sneered, grabbing my glasses. “Why don’t you go play with the nerds?”
I stood there, frozen, as their laughter rang out. My heart pounded, and for a moment, I felt the familiar tightness in my chest. But I refused to let them see my fear. I grabbed my glasses back and walked away, tears stinging my eyes.
That night, as I lay in bed, I replayed the scene over and over. Their words burned in my mind. I wanted to fight back, to stand up for myself, but I didn’t know how.
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Chapter 5: The Breaking Point
The turning point came on an ordinary day. I was walking home, head down, lost in thought, when a sudden gust of wind sent a stray plastic bag tumbling towards me. I stopped and watched it dance in the air, unbothered by obstacles.
Something shifted inside me. If a fragile plastic bag could rise and move forward despite the odds, why couldn’t I? That night, I made a promise to myself: I wouldn’t let asthma, bullying, or anything else define me.
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[The story will continue to include transformation, small victories, self-discovery, and eventual triumph in detailed chapters.]
- Writer
