It was in the face of his father did Priar truly understand the meaning of hatred. It wasn't something that happened over night, nor was it something that spawned without reason. To him, this was a long time coming, but it wasn't Priar who harbored this hate.
"Are you going to be alright honey?" Priar's mother asked, too guilty to look her son in the eye.
"I- well," he stops himself taking a breath, composing his disbelief. "I don't know Mom. I don't know what's going to happen to me… I mean, you're shipping me off like I'm merchandise!" His words left a scar in her heart. Her only son's life would be forfeit, and she could only hope for the best. Before, when his dad brought the idea up to her. It was the "worst case scenario" but now it was happening, she's realized that this was a nightmare.
"You'll be fine." his dad interrupted, setting down Priar's duffle bag of essentials. "I was in bootcamp when I was younger than you are now, and I don't regret a day of it." His humorous tone turned cold. He leaned in beside Priar and whispered "If you embarrass me over there too, I swear to you son. IF you come back home there'll be hell to pay." Priar picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder, giving a slight nod. He'd heard threats like these before from his father, ever since Priar had stopped playing football he'd become somewhat of a troublemaker. He stopped going to school and when he did show up, his teachers would scold him for missing assignments. Priar, of course, has never been known to be pushed around.
"Isn't this too soon? School just ended and I have summer school don't I?"
"Not anymore you don't. No reason for the wicked, son. If your old man can do it, you can do it too, right?" he smiled, pulling away from his son. What his dad had said before was a lie. He'd never spent a day in bootcamp, but not for lack of trying. They'd called him "unfit" for the military. He hated everything about the military for that comment alone, spending his days mocking whoever would boast their service. More than anything he hated that he'd not been "given the chance" to do more with his life. As a young adult, the army was the hand he could afford to play, but unfortunately things did not go to plan. With the money the school would pay him for handing Priar over, he'd finally have that chance. A startup company with his name at the forefront. It would be his dream finally coming true. He would finally have a purpose again- a goal.
Priar was well aware of this fact. A drunken drive home was when found out about his father's failure. Priar, 13 years old and without a license was forced to drive him home. His dad boasted about coming close to the sun, and barely touching it before those buffoons in the army clipped his wings. Most of what he said that night went over Priar's head, but now his words seemed so much clearer.
Priar stepped forward lifting his arms to give the only woman he could call a mother a hug goodbye. Before Priar could get any closer, his father quickly turned him around, pushing him into the screen door and out onto the porch. He stumbled onto the dampened concrete turning back in time for the door to be slammed in his face. He'd lasted a while here, it saddened him to see another family reject him, but such was the way of an orphan.
He took a step off the porch and into the rain. The humidity in the air coating his nose in the thick musk of manure.
In the road waits a blackened vehicle, the same recruiter Priar's father had spoken to the day before. His squared jaw and rough figure clutching the handle of a navy-blue umbrella. He nodded and opened the back door of his car for the saddened teenager. Priar took his bag off of his shoulder and tossed it in. He took one last look at his home and in a nostalgic sigh, turned his back to it. Climbing in, the door was shut behind him. The recruiter settled into his seat and waited for Priar to put on his seatbelt before starting the engine. The man looked into his rear-view mirror noticing Priar's apprehension and simply asked.
"You ready?"