Studio 22 | Mary-Kate Olsen

Chapter Three

April 2nd 2017 - New York City - The Sinclair Brownstone

I chose not to tell my parents my plans until I had spoken to my Sargent. She was happy to have me back, surprised it had taken me an entire month since graduating from the training school to ask to come back, but she was glad I took the time I needed to be in the right headspace to return. I had done all the necessary things to be able to enlist and be deployed, everything except tell my parents. I got my deployment date two days ago and I was leaving in a week. It was time to tell them, otherwise, I'd end up disappearing in the middle of the night and leaving a note on my bed and I didn't want to do that.

Jazz knew, and although she didn't fully understand, she supported me. I needed to do this. I already felt closer to him and more myself since training again. Reconnecting with that part of myself felt good. Despite having only stopped training for a few weeks, I felt sort of lost without it. The military has been a huge part of my life for years. My whole life has been surrounded by training and working towards enlisting. When that was all of a sudden gone, I felt like I didn't know who I was anymore. Stepping away really didn't help me try and move past my brother's death either. Not having anything to focus on only made his absence more apparent.

"Mamá, Papí." I address them both as I stand in the doorway. As they both looked at me, I couldn't help but fidget under their gazes, knowing they were not going to be happy with me for doing this behind their backs. I just haven't been able to find the words to tell them until now. Every time I tried, I just remembered their relieved faces when Sage and I told them we weren't enlisting, and then guilt would start to fill me up because I was being selfish by doing this. I was going to cause them stress and anxiety by going out there to do the thing that killed their son. I could choose to do anything else in the world, but I decided that I had to go back and make them relive the torment of having another child in the military after they lost one child to it already. I loved them so much and putting them through anything that would cause them to be in pain hurt me. But I couldn't be scared. I couldn't stay frozen any longer.

Grieving in my bed here in New York was doing nothing for me but dragging me into a pit of woe, and it wasn't helping me or my family either. "What's wrong, Blue?" My mum called me into the room, patting the spot beside her on the sofa. I sat beside her. "I need to talk to you about something," I rush out before I had the chance to chicken out of this conversation again. "You're not pregnant are you?" My dad asks, with a serious look on his face. "No, Papí, No," I deny, kind of shocked he would even think that. "You've been sneaking out a lot," He defends his assumption. "I have not been sneaking out." "What did you want to talk to us about, Blue?" Mamì asked me. "Well," I took a deep breath calming my nerves before adjusting myself in my seat, they both sat looking at me waiting patiently for me to start talking, "I am going to–" Before I could get it out, Sage came in. "What are you talking about?" He asked sitting down, I couldn't meet his eyes because I knew that he'd know. He sits beside dad. "Your sister needed to speak with us," Papí explains. "You're not pregnant are you?" Sage asks, my brows knitted together causing me to roll my eyes. "No, why do you both assume I'm pregnant?" "Because you've been sneaking out," Sage replies, curtly. "I haven't–" I stop myself from explaining and just shake my head, "Can I talk now?" I asked. There was no point in defending myself because they'd believe what they wanted to believe. "Yes, go ahead." Mamá encourages.

"I've been struggling recently," I admit, which was hard for me to do, "And I knew I needed to do something for myself." My parents both nodded and my eyes flicked to Sage who was already clenching his jaw, his eyes burning holes into my skull. He knew where this was going because he knew me like the back of his hand. "So, I've chosen to enlist. I've been given my deployment date and I leave next Monday for Iraq." "No, Sofia. No." My dad told me firmly. "Papí, please just listen," I plead but I know it's fallen on deaf ears when he replies with a firm "No." I looked at mum, needing her support on this, but she wouldn't meet my gaze.