Born to Fight

I finished packing the last of my items into my military duffel bag. It was the first day of school and if I didn’t get a move on, I was going to be late. As much as I hated school, I hated having to live on campus more. Being away from my mother and my dog was the worst thing for me. I was an only child, and after my grandfather's death two years ago, my mother was the only family I had left now. My mother, Tina, poked her head inside the bedroom door. “Breakfast is ready, honey,” she said, eyeing my flustered look. I looked up in exasperation from where I was stuffing items into my duffel bag. “I can’t even think about eating right now, mom,” I cried. “I am going to be late!” I quickly zipped the duffel bag closed and put it on the chair that was located beside the bedroom door. “I am sure you can spare five minutes to eat something, child of mine. I will drive you to school once you're done. You won’t be late, I promise,” said my mother, reassuringly, as she placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. I knew when to pick my battles. So for the sake of keeping the peace, I simply nodded before walking out of the bedroom ahead of my mother. At seventeen Celeste had her mother’s tiny but lean and athletic build. She was almost the image of the father she had never met, except for her black hair and green eyes, those she got from her mother. When we got downstairs and made our way into the kitchen, my mother immediately started placing some scrambled eggs and a few rashers of bacon onto my plate. “Better eat your breakfast and quickly get changed, so we can get you to school honey,” she said. I quickly ate my breakfast and drank a glass of orange juice. “I will just go have my shower and get changed and then we can get going. I will be super quick, I promise,” I told my mother before racing back upstairs to my bedroom. In the car on the way to Fallon Falls Military Academy where I went to school, I couldn’t help but cast a glance towards my mother. At 36 years of age, my mother was still a highly attractive woman. She was fit and well-toned and without makeup, she still looked like she was about sixteen. My mother always made the time to work out every day. She was an avid runner and had taught me from a young age the importance of exercise and healthy eating. Every day she ran and worked out in the gym, regardless of the weather. I knew I needed to become more disciplined and start working out every single day the same as my mother did.  For as long as I could remember, I had trained with my mother and my grandfather. Not just with working out and running, but in other things too. I was trained in martial arts, shooting, tracking and navigation. Each of those things were classes that were taught at my school, but my mother and grandfather had taken my training even further preparing me for a career in the military, just like them. I admired my mother for the fact that she had managed to raise me as a single parent while managing to hold on to her job of working in the field of Military Intelligence. It was an extremely demanding job, but somehow my mom managed to juggle her family and her career effortlessly. My father had walked out on my mother not long after he had found out that she was pregnant. From what I had been told over the years from people who knew my mom, he had been a military guy my mother had been involved with. I didn’t even know what he looked like. And although it hurt me whenever I thought about his lack of interest in me and my life, I often told myself that I didn’t care about him or his disinterest in me. But deep down, I did care. I would never admit this to anybody, but I lived with the sting of his rejection every day. When we pulled up in front of the Academy, I got out of the car and grabbed my duffel bag off of the back seat. I leaned back in through the passenger side door and kissed and hugged my mother goodbye. “I will see you Friday afternoon,” I told my mom while I was still hugging her. “Be good this year please, my poor nerves cannot handle a repeat of last year. No fights,” she said, looking at me in her stern parental way. It was what she always did to let me know she was serious about what she was saying. “I didn’t start those fights mom, you know that,” I told her while grinning at her. Still sitting in the driver's seat, Tina sat in silence as she looked at her daughter. Her beautiful girl who didn't even realize that she was so much like her father in both looks and mannerisms. “Sweetheart I don’t care who started it, I don’t want a repeat of it. I mean it,” she replied. I looked at my mother for a moment and then nodded. “Okay, no fights,” I said. I climbed out of the car and closed the door, then headed up the front stairs and into the main school building. I went into the administration office to sign in. Once I had signed in, I picked my duffel bag up and walked out of the administration building. Making my way through the main school building and out the back door, I quickly made my way to my dormitory. Once I was inside my room, I dropped my bag on my bed, then set about getting my books organised. Once I had everything I needed, I started making my way towards my first lesson of the day. The first day of school was dragging on, and after lunch, I found myself in yet another boring class. This time it was English. I kept looking at the clock every five minutes out of boredom. "This day just won’t stop dragging on,'" I thought to myself, as I saw that less than five minutes had passed since the last time I had looked at the clock. I wished the day would just hurry up and be over with. I hated being cooped up in classrooms. The English teacher was a new addition to the school this year. Mrs MacGregor was her name. She wore expensive clothes, and she had long platinum blonde hair pulled back in a braid. She had this annoying habit where she kept playing with her bangs whenever she talked. “Okay class, I am going to bring around this bowl, and as I walk past you I want each of you to reach into the bowl and take out a card, only one,” Mrs MacGregor, instructed. She started making her way around the classroom and just as she had instructed, the students each reached into the bowl and pulled out a single card. When it was my turn, I pulled out my selected card, then I turned it over and read it. The card contained a name, rank, and an email address. “Okay, students, does everyone have a card?” asked Mrs MacGregor, as she made her way back towards the front of the classroom. When all of the students confirmed that they all had cards, Mrs MacGregor put the container down on her desk. “Okay, now that you all have your cards, I can tell you that the person on your card is going to be your pen pal for the duration of this school year. If you and your pen pal hit it off you might want to continue writing to each other after the school year is over. Treat this exercise seriously. This is going to be your opportunity to get a first - hand glimpse into what it is like to work within our military. So I strongly suggest that you use this opportunity wisely and ask any questions you might have. Who knows? You might be surprised by the answers you receive.” I looked at the card in my hand once more. 'Talking to a stranger that you met online. Weren't school kids always getting warned about that sort of thing? My mother had always told me never to talk to strangers, and now, here was my school teacher telling me to do the exact opposite. Oh well, at least if I ended up getting murdered or kidnapped I could assign the blame solely to my English teacher, and my mother could sue the school,' I thought, as I smiled to myself at the thought. That afternoon after the school day was done, I was sitting in my dorm room. I looked at the card that I had pulled out of the bowl once more. Chief Petty Officer Jamie Fox. I was trying to decide on whether or not I should write to the man. If I did what would I say? How much information about myself was I willing to give to a stranger? I put the card on my desk and decided to go and have a shower. When I came out from having my shower I glanced at the card once again. Sitting down at my desk I started to type.   Dear Chief Petty Officer Fox,  First off, let me say 'hi.'  My name is Celeste Avery and I am a student at Fallon Falls Military Academy. Usually, I make it a habit to NEVER talk to strangers, especially online strangers. I like to think it is a good way to live a little bit longer if you steer clear of psycho's, and as we all know from crime shows, most psycho's happen to be online. In case you haven't already picked up on it, I watch a lot of crime shows, much to my mother's disapproval, and I know that a lot of people who talk to strangers online usually end up dead. But unfortunately for me, it seems as though my English teacher doesn't share my love of crime shows or my will to live a long and happy life. I have narrowed it down to she either doesn't have an interest in true crime or she doesn't take the warnings that the police issue about this whole online safety thing seriously!  Or, perhaps she doesn't like our class for some reason and is looking to get rid of us. I mean, who knows? Anyway..., she has given our class the task of communicating with a member of the Military for the duration of the school year. Can you believe that? Police tell us, school students, not to talk to strangers and our teacher encourages it! Go figure lol. She told us this was an opportunity for us to gain first - hand information on what it is like to work within the Military. I know this may seem awkward for you. Trust me when I say this is awkward for me too. So as you can probably gather from the earlier part of this email, I don’t usually make a habit of writing to people I have never met before. My mom is going to freak out when she hears about this. She will probably give me the stranger danger lecture she gave me when I was five years old all over again. So, Chief Petty Officer Fox, which branch of the Military do you work in? Have you been in the Military long? Did you always know you wanted to take the Military path? I am sorry if this sounds forward, I do not mean to intrude. If you want to, you can just blame my English teacher, I will let you, lol. Wishing you well, wherever you may be. Regards, Celeste Avery.   Finishing up my email, I closed my laptop and made my way down to the mess hall to have some dinner.