You stood at your window, looking out onto the training field. You were watching the sniper team shoot, they were always so quick with their shots and you just knew every time they all went down the range to check their targets. It was a direct hit on the bullseye. That whole team was amazing and their shots were the same, no wonder they were chosen to be special forces snipers.
They moved on from still targets to moving, it was so amazing, that whole group so focused and quick with their shots when the targets stopped for just a second.
You turned away once they started to put away their equipment. You loved watching the shooting range. Maybe one day you'll be down there with the snipers. That was your dream after all but you were too much of a shit shot to even hit the bullseye.
.
.
.
You set up your rifle, getting into a comfortable prone position. No one else was on the firing range with you so you didn't have to worry about anyone commenting on your shot grouping. You loaded your rifle, you gripped the rifle like your Colonel had taught you, lining your sight to the target.
Relax.
All you had to do was relax now.
You took a breath and let half of it out, pulling the trigger lightly to not move the alignment.
You did the same thing 4 more times, putting your weapon on safe before walking out to check the grouping of your shorts. They weren't so bad, you could adjust the sights to what you needed and then you would do the same thing over again.
You placed another fresh target into the board, heading back to do the same thing over again.
After your practice was over, you cleaned off your rifle. Making sure all of it was sparkling so you wouldn't get yelled at for having a dirty weapon.
The door door to the range opened right when you stood up from your mat, a hooded man walking in before stopping when he saw you. Nothing was said but you knew he was shocked to find someone in here at 0300.
He placed his rifle down and grabbed a mat, most likely about to do the same thing you were just doing. You glanced at him, just watching what he was doing before gathering your stuff so you could leave him to it.
.
.
.
You looked at the requirements for sniper school for your branch, a frown on your face as you read the few things you didn't quite fit. The requirements for such a position were so hard, they had to be. Who would want a shitty sniper on their team.
"Fuck."
You groaned, shutting your laptop and pushing it off of your lap and onto the couch. It pissed you off that no matter how hard you were trying right now, it would only lead you to disappointment. You'd have to push harder then you already were.
You spent every morning in the shooting range, practicing your aim. Your athletics in the afternoon and at night your academics.
Everything had to be perfect, you wanted to be the best and get into that school. Come out on top.
.
.
.
"You going to the shooting range tomorrow morning?"
You looked behind you, a bit startled by the sudden voice directed to you. It was the same guy who came into the range after you every morning, you both rarely ever talked, just a quiet hello or good morning.
"Oh..yeah I am."
"May I join you this time?"
He mumbled, you could see he was picking at his nails. To you he didn't sound nervous but the picking was an obvious sign he was.
"Sure, I wouldn't mind having someone there with me."
"Alright, thanks.."
You could see the skin around his eyes wrinkle a bit, a smile. You smiled back, your heart strings getting pulled just a bit. You shrugged off the feeling to just being happy someone wanted to spend time with you.
You turned back around and headed down to the gym. Your daily routine being continued till you inevitably were called back to your office to finish your work.
.
.
.
You grabbed your rifle out of your locker, checking it for any defects. You always kept your rifle in top shape, it had to be or else you wouldn't feel good shooting it.
The door to the locker room opened, the same man who had asked to join you walking though and to his locker, doing the same exact thing you were doing.
"Got here on time."
You joked, walking over to him and looking at his rifle. He kept it in top condition too, it was nice seeing someone who didn't just bullshit their way though everything.
"Always am."
"Good, when you're done join me on the range."
.
.
.
"You're shots are so good, how long you've been practicing?"
"Years...I was in sniper school."
"Really, so you're a sniper?"
"No."
"What..I thought you went to sniper school?"
"I was kicked out."
