Ghost of Me.

2. Dimly lit Laughter

C H A R L I E ' S / P O V

The soft afternoon sunlight bathed the coastal town in a warm golden hue as I made my way to the recruitment office, three days after my birthday. The salty breeze carried the distant sounds of crashing waves, and I couldn't help but be drawn to the mesmerizing ocean view that stretched out before me. It was as if the vast expanse of the sea held the answers to the questions swirling in my mind.

I stood there, absorbing the rhythmic cadence of the waves against the rugged rocks, mentally grappling with the decision ahead. Would my father have approved? Did the crashing waves signify a forewarning, a cascade of consequences if I chose a different path?

The morning had been a tumultuous dance of uncertainty. I paced back and forth, the weight of my decision pressing down on me. I sought answers in the sterile confines of the office, surrounded by paperwork and official forms. But the elusive clarity I sought seemed to slip through my fingers.

In a moment of clarity, I reminded myself, 'It's never too late to change my mind.' The option lingered like a fragile lifeline. Yet, even as I uttered those words, the realization dawned that my mind had already made its irrevocable decision. The application, carefully filled out, bore witness to the conviction that had guided my pen.

Clutching my bag, a repository of small details that marked the beginning of a profound journey, I took the decisive step into the recruitment office. The bell above the door chimed in familiar melody, echoing the same sound as the previous day. The man behind the desk rose, his posture formal, and his words carried a subtle hint of reproach.

"Welcome back, Ma'am. Have you brought everything with you today?" His inquiry felt like a gentle dig, a reminder that the protocol expected me to arrive prepared. It was as if he assumed a level of familiarity with the enlistment process, a notion that stood in stark contrast to my uncertainty. I didn't know how this process worked, and each step felt like a leap into the unknown.

With a composed nod, I affirmed, "Yes, I have everything, Sir." The bag in my hand held not just documents, but the weight of a decision that transcended the paperwork before me. As I placed the sealed letter, my driver's license, and social security number on the desk, the tangible artifacts of my commitment, I couldn't shake the feeling that the journey ahead would redefine not only my identity but the rest of my life.

"I have, Sir. I am ready to enlist." I say, almost sounding like I'm convincing myself of the future. I step towards the desk and smile at him.

"I do have one question. Why didn't you enlist earlier? If you knew you wanted to do it eventually?" He asks, treading carefully around the situation.

"Well.. I suppose my aunt was holding me back, but she's been MIA for two months, Sir." I voice, admitting the truth before placing the sealed letter, my drivers license and my social security number against the desk.

The man behind the desk took a moment to process my response, his eyes briefly reflecting a mix of understanding and sympathy. "I see. Family can be a powerful influence on our decisions," he said, his tone softening. "But sometimes, destiny has a way of pushing us to make choices we might have been hesitant about."

I nodded, appreciating the subtle reassurance in his words. The room seemed to hold its breath as he carefully examined the documents I placed before him. Each item, a tangible representation of my commitment to a path I was still trying to fully comprehend.

"Everything seems to be in order," he said, breaking the silence. "Once you sign here, there's no turning back. Are you certain about this decision, Charlie?"