In Too Deep

11

Robyn Westland sat at her kitchen table between  orderly piles of papers;  those marked and those to be marked. She glanced round to check the time from the oven display unit, it was just before nine. Victor had taken up position on the table and was lazing next to the marked pile, she gave him a stroke while she stood up to make a coffee to see her through the rest of the marking.

It had been the usual collection of hobbies and holidays that she'd read about over the last two hours. None of which really made the brief, 'What Makes Me'.  She had always set this task hoping that a student would be brave enough to really open up. But most of them were written well enough. The usuals were written exceptionally well and she'd have no choice but to mark them as an A, although she had no idea why showing Guinea pigs made a person.

The coffee percolator hissed and started streaming out the black liquid gold. She opened the fridge and lifted the cream out in anticipation. The smell hit her nostrils and already she felt more invigorated. She lifted the drink and took a sip feeling the hot liquid slither down her throat. Bliss. Replacing the cream she lifted a few cat biscuits from the packet next to the fridge. Victor deserved a treat too, he'd kept her company while she'd been reading. She placed the coffee on the table and invited Victor over for a quick cuddle and a treat. He purred as he found his way to her lap and she ruffled his ears.

Lifting the next of the papers to mark she read What Makes Me by Riley Marshall. She'd handed it in on time but that didn't mean it was going to be any good. Victor moved back to the table she opened her red pen and started reading.

For as long as I remember I have lived in an Army Camp. For most of my early life that is what I thought was what all kids had. I lives in a house on the base with my Mom ans Dad. I was an only child although I would always ask for a little brother or sister to play with this was never in the plan. I don't think I was even in the plan either a happy accident is what they called me.

There were other kids about in camp, and I went to kindergarten and school there. I think we were in Texas then it was definitely sunny. When I was about six I met a girl call Sarah and she became my friend. We'd go everywear together, by that I mean the camp shop and the base pool. I learned to swim there. It was something I just seemed to take to naturally.

To my memory the first time we moved I was about eight. We went to another base in Michigan up near the Canadain border. I never seen Sarah again. There weren't as many children on this base nad I was placed in a classroom with kids that were older, mostly boys. We spent most of the spare time kicking a ball about. Or play fighting. There wasn't many girls about and none of them were my age. When I was 10 I escaped form the camp with a few of the older boys nad we got picked up by the police after being caught in a local store. They had used me, I was asked to hold all the candy we had lifted, as we walked out the store. I got a real telling off that day. And my Dad was disappointed in me for the first time. I think that was the worst part.

While I was growing up Mom nad Dad would disappear for times, I know how they were being sent to fight in some conflict or another, they both served in the gulf and when this would happen sometimes I would be sent to stay in some army boarding house for kids. A bit like a foster home. So there would be other kids about, some families were nicer than others. But it was weird and the other kids would pick in me sometimes, I didn't know who else to deal with it so id use my fists, I'm not proud of this but it was how I got through some of those early teen years.

I had to find somthign as they were the worst of my life. Just before I turned 13 my mom was sent to Afghanistan to do a peacekeeping tour it was to be for about 6months, it was the longest time she'd been away since I was like a kid.

I got on good with my Dad but he doesn't love the same way my mom did, he talks about pride and honor and runs the house a bit like a platoon. It's just how he is, he also isn't one of these new age men I could talk to about things or growing up. My body was changing and I needed my mom for a lot of that but she was away serving our county like a good soldier my dad would say.

She didn't come home. Gloria, my mom she got killed trying to save some girls, that the taliban decided shouldn't be in school. She was shot protecting a girl my age. Twelve years old. She is a hero. An actual hero she got a medal of valour, it sits next to her photo in my Dads room with the flag we got from her coffin.

So it's been me and Dad since. I have had to learn a lot on my own like how to deal with becoming a woman, knowing I was gay. My Dads okay with that, I think he's never actually said it but he also didn't throw me out like I was expecting.

He just wants me to get an education, because that's what my mom died for to allow women and girls to have the chance to learn.

I miss my mom or the nostalgia I feel for the time in my life a time when someone would kiss me good night and say I love you. A time when people used my name. I know that probably sounds weird but growing up on a base you become an extension of the soldier. Your Marshall or Hank Marshall's kid. In school it's the same like Riley doesn't exist. Someone called me Ry for a bit made me feel special.

So I guess that's what makes me me, being a base kid that lives by routine and regulations, my Dads not a bad person, he is just caring for me the only way he knows by keeping me safe.

Not really having many friends because what's the point when you move around so much anyway that you will inevitably leave them behind.

Finding myself at home in a pool. I think maybe I was a fish or something in my last life. And being good a soccer. Because I only had boys to play with for years.

I guess it's made me pretty independent. A bit insecure at times and looking for someone to love me. But isn't that where everyone is at.

Robyn wiped a tear away, she met the brief. She thought about Riley's cocky facade, what it bud, she pondered how the biker must have felt and what she'd gone through to lose her Mom at such a young age. About how someone called her Ry for a while and it made her feel special. That's because you were, and you are, she thought as she put the paper down and looked at all the red pen marking the words, and how the biker would view them as scratches on her soul.

She shook her head, she knew what was going on. She'd talk to the student tomorrow but for the now she pulled out her pen and marked the paper D, fail.