Military Love » Harry Styles

chapter fifty eight

Graduation day. It was somehow different. In high school it was a celebration, a start of new things. This was just the end of things. I was terrified of what was supposed to happen after this.

My vision changed on almost everything. Instead of shops and cars, I saw guns and soldiers. It was terrifying.

The way his feet strode over the stage made clear he knew exactly what he was doing. His shoulders were broad and straight, very professional. I was looking at Mr Chilton. I felt a hand on my knee, I looked up from my legs to see Brad smiling at me. At least one of us was happy to be freed from this military boot camp.

We were dressed differently. I wore a black pencil skirt with a light blue blouse neatly tucked into the top of the pencil skirt, just like the other girls had it tucked in. My hair was twisted into a tight bun on which a small military hat rested with the logo of our military camp in it.

We wore heels too, black and shiny ones. It was weird. For the past eight weeks my feet had been plastered with blisters and calluses, not they were supposed to look feminine and strong.

So to sum things up for a bit, today was: the end of all things, terrifying and weird.

The bleachers were full of family, friends and even some lovers or children. Only my mom was there for me. That was good, because there was no one else I wanted to be there at that moment.

"Forward mars!" My sergeant yelled as she marched us into the middle of the bleachers and the woods. We followed her, all in perfect synchrony. Just a few more hours and this would all be over.

"Training is over, you may now greet your family." Mr Chilton yelled from the stage where he still stood proudly. The way we held our bodies strong and independent disappeared completely when that sentence flew out of Mr Chilton's mouth.

I scanned the bleachers for my mom. It took me some time to see her. The sunlight reflected onto her hair, making it seem on fire. In her eyes there was this glister of some sort, like she had been crying. The good kind of crying.

Children with large signs and boards ran towards their mom or dad, sometimes even brother or sister who had been in military boot camp. Crying, they clamped themselves onto that person, not wanting to let go.

I threw myself towards the bleachers, pushing everyone aside and almost slipping into the mud with one of my heels myself. My mother saw me too, she clamped one hand over her mouth, like she couldn't quite belief that I was standing only metres apart from her.

She got up and ran down the bleachers, so we would meet in the middle. There were people trying to get past us, but it didn't matter. Nothing did matter.

I hugged her tightly, with tears streaming down my cheeks. My mother did the same. We hugged for minutes my mother mumbling onto my shoulder.

"My baby," she cried out. "you did it so well." I continued. I thanked her silently by hugging her even tighter, this was a moment I would never forget.

"The way you marched from across the other side of the stage," she whispered, "It reminds me so much of your father," I can feel her smiling. "He'd swim across the word ten times just to be here with you. Just to tell you how proud he is off you." She continued to talk, and I closed my eyes listening carefully.

Minutes flew by and by the time I could feel the water of my mother's tears press through the thin fabric of the blouse, Mr Chilton called everyone back to take a seat.

So we did, mom went back to sit on the bleachers and I sat down in the chairs which were set out for us. I met with Brad, who stood there so silently. I smiled at him, he smiled at me.