Can't Believe

        He leans his forehead against the window, watching the blur of the headlights speeding past him in the other direction. Full of fear at a new life, his eyes drift away staring at nothing at all, but his mind, which should be full of expectation, full of question, is full of emptiness. The fear has caused his mind to clam shut. He knows almost nothing about what hes gotten himself into, all he knows is his life will shortly be horribly miserable. His mind begins drifting back to the memory that put him here today but he is interrupted by the nervous chatter of those with him.
         “Which city did you fly out of?” his unkown seat companion questions him.
         Watching his unwanted companion from the reflection in the window, he contemplates ignoring him, knowing that when he answers, a spiral of new questions and past memories and future hopes will come flying at him, and at the moment he just wants to be left alone. Hoping that if he sits there long enough, this conversation will stop before it starts, but with no such luck. Sighing audibly hoping to send the message of, leave me alone, he turns around.
         “Miami.”
         Turning back around to stare once again at the headlights speeding his direction, he hears an intake of breath from his new found nuisance and knows what is coming.
                   Eyes closed wishing for silence, he threw in the typical responses he has his entire life, forcing himself
to act interested in the stranger who kept on droning on about how he had some huge future that his hometown was keeping him from getting to.
         “Really?”.yawn.
         “That sounds pretty tough.”, all the while System of A Down’s song, Atwa, is on loop in his head. Silent my voice ive got no choice, all the world ive seen before me passing by.
         The bus suddenly make’s a right turn and his forehead slightly separated from the window and jerks back into it forcibly, making him curse under his breath and rub his forehead. Shit, are we finally here? Its too soon, I need more time to gather myself together, he thought to himself as he watched the gate loom ever closer.
         The gate guard walks out from his guard shack and smiles at the bus smugly and waves it through. Theres something in that smile that he doesn’t like, but he cant put his finger on it. It makes him feel like the guard knows what the melting pot of people on the bus are about to go through and is laughing at their misfortune. Well, he is wearing the uniform, so he knows. God this is going to suck.
         Slowing to a stop, the bus jerks slightly and the doors swing wide open. Everyone stays in their seat, waiting expectantly. A face appears, angry, full of malice. He has enough time to notice the look of disgust in this man’s face before he starts yelling at them to, “Get off the goddamn bus you little shits!”, and then hes gone. There’s a moment of hesitancy and nobody moves, and then theres a whirlwind of movement as everbody grabs their shit and makes a break for the aisle to get off the bus.
         He can hear yelling from outside the bus, but cant understand the words. When he gets to the door he sees everyone in front of him sprinting toward to sets of open double doors attached to a three story brick building. He pauses, wondering whats going on, when he hears, “ Hey, you, goldi-fucking-locks. Get your goddamn ass off the bus and start running, you bag of shit.”
Stepping off the bus, he quickly gets up to speed and catches up to the guy in front of him.
         “Line up on the wall.”, comes a brisk order from inside the building.
         When he reaches the door he slows to jogging pace, then begins to walk. The line along the wall is long, and he is surprised to find out how many people were actually on the bus with him.
He leans his back against the wall and pants quietly. God, im already out of breath.
         “Hey you, goldilocks, get your ass off the damn wall unless you want to clean every damn wall with your goddamn toothbrush.”, another man in a tidy looking khaki uniform screams at him.
         He leans forward and yells out, “Yes sir!”, not knowing the shitstorm he’s about to receive.
         Almost running at him the man in the khaki uniform yells at him,” What did you say? Did you fucking call me sir? I’m fucking chief to you shithead, I work for a goddamn living.”  The chiefs eyes bored into his, threatening him to fuck up again.
         Thankfully, from down the hallway another man in a janitor looking blue uniform yells out, “Pay attention. Were going to do roll call, answer up when you hear your name.”
         Names rolled off the mans tongue and loud responses of “HERE” were given in return. Joel could hear the fear in the voices, and hoped that his own voice wouldn’t quiver when his time came.
                   He is tempted to glance towards every person who answers up to their name, growing curious to know
who his new family is going to be. But the fear of having any more attention drawn toward him from the men and women in uniform pacing up and down the hallway keeps him frozen in place, staring straight ahead at a smudge on the wall.
         The man doing roll call spoke up,” My names HT1 Williams, and I will be the first one to welcome you to two and a half months of hell. Don’t plan on ever being comfortable. Don’t expect kindness from your superiors. Don’t expect any normal qualities of life. What you can expect is long days, extremely short nights, and extreme exhaustion. We are here to break you. Welcome to The Great Lakes Naval Training Center, your new home.”