American soldier

Chapter 2: The dining hall

The bedroom is cold and gray. My bed, even though it has my comforter from home, looks dead and miserable, nothing like the happy, warm bed that help me fall asleep at night at home. Even though this entire campus has nothing out of place, its feels so.... Weird. So unwelcoming, crampt with many things I don't know that it's all too overwhelming. But I can't understand why. There is nothing out of place, I have all my things, heck, there isn't one thing wrong and yet, I feel like there is something missing.

"Huh, this isn't very cozy." I turn around to see my mom standing in the threshold with my last few bags. Amazing how that's what she first notices. Can't she feel the friction between everything? Doesn't she feel the queasiness that something is out of place?

"Yeah I guess so." I shrug my shoulders not wanting her to think I feel anything else. After paying tuition, driving 26+ hours here, AND making sure I got settled in good, how am I supposed to tell her that this place makes me want to throw up? She supported me when I asked to come here even though I barely speak to her, she treats me like a princess when I'm a totally bitch, and now all I can think about is home? NO. She doesn't need to know that.

"Well I guess that's it." she said as she scratched the side of her legs. After years of seeing this, I had finally concluded that this was the universal sign "I better leave now before I start crying". When my dad died, if we ever went to friends' houses she would always start doing that the second they brought up my dad. It was like a warning sign; don't talk about it anymore unless you're ready for a three hour crying session. But that was my mom. She bottled up her emotions until she was in the comfort of her own house to cry away the pain. No matter what the case was, she wanted everyone to believe that she was the cherry, happy-go-lucky person she had always been.

"I suppose so." I say standing awkwardly in the middle of the room trying not to cry. For the longest time I resented my mom. Somehow i thought she was the reason dad died, somehow she was the reason my life was so miserable. I was counting time till the day I could escape from her cold, widow hands. Now that the day is here, a feeling of depression swallows me whole.

"I got to get going if I don't want to get stuck in traffic." Her voice cracked at the last word as her lip trembled. I hated to see her like this, so upset, so distraught. It broke my heart that she would cry over me, someone who doesn't even pretend to appreciate her 98% of the time.

Before I could stop myself, I strode across the empty room and pulled her into a big, warm bear hug. I needed her to stop crying. I needed her to stop crying over someone like me and go enjoy her new free time.

"Mom shhhhh, it's going to be alright." The soothing voice I used is so foreign to me I barely recognized it was mine. "I'll be fine." I pulled away and held her face when she let a sob out. "Mom really, I'll be ok." I whisper as I finally pull away from her.

"You're right. You're absolutely right." She paused to wipe away a tear. "I-I better get going." She pulled me in for one last hug. God I was going to miss this.

"Alright well I'm gonna get going." She said as she put on her "happy" face. "Call me if you ever need anything; clothes, shoes, socks..." her voice broke again as she wiped away another tear.

"Ok." I whisper holding back what had to be a gallon of tears.

"I'll see you soon." She whimpered as she turned around and walked out of my room, leaving all alone in a foreign place. As the door shut behind her, the only instinct I knew now was to curl up and cry, and that's exactly what I did.

***

I'll see you soon. I'll see you soon. I'll see you soon. I'll see you soon. I'll see you soon.

The words kept replaying in my head a million times as I cried in the empty dark room. The same exact words my dad had said the day he left. The last sight, the last touch, the last of him burned into my memory. Those same exact words were just said by my mother. Who's to say that that wasn't the last time I would see her? Who knows if the last memory I'll have of her is when she is saying goodbye to me?

Choosing not to think of such horrible things I sit up from my cocoon of blankets and try to locate my clock. 6:31 p.m. Sighing, I put the alarm clock back on my desk and turn on the light. According to my tour guide, right about now was dinner time in the dining hall. Even though I didn't feel like showing my blotched, red face to everyone, I know I shouldn't stay cooped up in my room forever. Running my fingers through my hair, I opened my door and headed down the hallway.

***

After navigating through the twisted and turns of the hallways, I had successfully made it towards the dining hall. While trying to figure out which way was where, I had decided which type of girls I need to hang around. And after carful decisions, I had decided that the best group is the silent but the strong. The girls who look small and innocent but are fierce competitors. As I make the last turn towards the dining hall, I hear the millions of voices mingling with others. Excitement bubbles inside of me as I think of all the things that await me. Only when I open the dining hall doors does that small bit of happiness fade away before that feeling of desperation appears.

Not one girl is to be seen in the entire hall. Just guys. Thousands of muscular, gorgeous guys all laughing and talking with one another.

My heart starts to race as I turn around and make a beeline for my room. How could they not have told me about this! I repeat in my head as my shaking hand jabs the key into my door causing it to fly open. Slamming the door shut, I curl up into the fertile position on the floor. As I rock myself back and forth, I can't stop myself from thinking that I'm the only girl here.

Damn, this just got a lot harder.