Why A Girl Like Me Would Join The Military

He's The Reason

I've always wondered what it truly feels like to take someone's life. The power you feel and the guilt. If there's guilt, how long does it last and how do those that feel it, overcome it? I love structure. Military is structure. The military wouldn't exist without structure, I wouldn't either. Feelings are not accepted, you are given a task; complete it and your day moves forward. Don't? You'll be put through hell until you're begging for mercy and a chance of redemption. Hierarchy is what the military thrives off of. It hates pathetic people. So do I. I hate people that take beatings and verbal abuse and just cry about it. Fear is pathetic. I realized my own mother was pathetic when I was about nine years old. I told her what her boyfriend did to me. Tears gushing from my eyes; she looked back at me as if I just bowed after a performance. I wasn't acting. I wasn't lying. My mother is pathetic for accepting his abuse. She had too many chances to get out. Almost 8 years of chances. 8 years of living under his roof.

I want to join the military so I will no longer be surrounded by pathetic people. My mother cried to me when he would yell or swing at her; I cried to her once too. She's pathetic, and I grew up. I realized after that night that the only person looking out for me was myself.

At age ten I wanted to be a football player. Whenever my mother's boyfriend would yell at me, grab me or make a comment about my underwear, I would say to myself "football players don't cry." I admit, a tear or two would still be shed but I got over it. This continued until I began to wear bras. Then the underwear comments grew to undergarment comments. And "football players don't cry" turned into "I will kill him when I get the chance." The military trains recruits on how to use a gun. How to defend yourself with just your bear hands. I want that training. There's always the chance you could die on the field. That's just the risk I'm willing to take. My heart could stop by a swerving car running me over during a morning run. My life could end by chocking on a piece of food. I could die by protecting and serving my country. Which option sounds best on an obituary?

Since age 13 I have passed my time by planning his murder. Sitting against my door, listening to his voice become louder, hoping he doesn't try to barge into my room next, I would dream. I would dream about the perfect scenario that his life ends by the hands of mine. The power I would feel. The only guilt I would feel is the guilt of taking the life of someone's father. That guilt would soon surpass as I would soon come to realize that, that boy would succeed more in life than he ever could with him as a father. I would stalk him for a minimum of six months. Analysing his routine and finding a time and place he visits frequently. I always imagined it would be a daily evening walk through the forest. Dark, alone, vulnerable, secluded. I would wear a disguise. I always imagined myself wearing a fat suit and men's clothing to completely eliminate me as a suspect. I would use a knife. Not a gun, n'or a bat, a knife. I want to feel the blade puncturing his organs and penetrating his skin. A gun would just not do. I would imbed the knife through his side then to his genitals. I would then step on his throat until he begs for his life.

Pathetic.

The end of my dream always concluded in his death. As I have matured, I realize now, the greater amount of suffering would be living through an attack with no working genitals and constant fear, not an instant death.
Some men deserve to be derived from sexual thoughts. This man deserves his crotch severed off.
He would gain the title of "victim" that he'll be forced to live with for the rest of his life. Waking up in cold sweats with non-stop nightmares of that night. He's pathetic and I've won. I never used to win when I was living under his roof. I know now that the greatest win I could receive is the satisfaction of knowing he's the pathetic child curled up in the corner of his room, fearing his memories and not me.
His case will turn cold as the suspect count will soon become zero. I will live a successful life with fans constantly sending pr packages and fan mail. All he will receive are "get well soon" cards and pitty invites to family Christmas parties. He is nothing without me. I am nothing without structure and planning. The military is nothing without structure and planning. I am nothing without the military. I want to feel what it feels like to take a life that has caused pain to many. I want to feel the victory of knowing that at least one person will go to sleep that night knowing that the person that abused them is lying six feet under.
I want power; I crave it.
I want the pathetic to suffer.
I want to join the military.