Metà (COMPLETED)

2. My Heart is No Longer Mine

5 Years Later...

"I pledge allegiance to the flag, of the United States of America. And to the republic, for which it stands, one nation, under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all."

The room was large and dark— well the drapings were; all four walls were covered by large and long, thick, black, pleated curtains. No natural light came into the room— just unbelievably bright lights hanging directly above the stage.

I removed my right hand from my chest and took a seat along with everyone. I pushed aside a wisp of my loose-curled, brown hair that had fallen out of my half up-half down 'do and fixed the bow on my tied, black, paper-bag waist pants.

"This class has proven to be one of the best and most skilled classes we've had in the last five years. I am truly baffled by the new Agents standing before me. You were all trainees not too long ago and with your hard work and dedication, you've finally made it...," the Director of the Bureau, Timothy Miller, spoke. His speech went on for a bit before he finally administered the oath of office. I stood by my fellow graduating agents and recited it, meaning every word I said.

"I, Zhara Embin, do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion; and that I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office on which I am about to enter. So help me God."

I let out a breath I felt I'd been holding in since before the oath. I clasped my hands together to subside the shaking, the buzz running through my veins--the adrenaline. The woman beside me tapped my shoulder and pointed at the new agents lining up.

"Oh, my bad," I said. I stood and followed my row to the back of the line, wiping my hands onto my pants. It didn't take long for my name to be called because we were in alphabetical order.

"Zhara Embin," he yelled thunderously into the mic. There was a loud round of applause and the director grabbed my badge from the table.

"THAT IS MY BABY!! Woooo, yerekha!" (T: baby) My mother's voice carried over the applause in the room and some people turned to her. Her cameras flash lit up a few more times as I crossed the stage and she finally sat down.

The FBI director firmly shook my hand and handed me my badge. I posed for the camera man, grinning from ear to ear with pure pride. After everything I've been through—having to deal with the biggest pain in my life and somewhat overcoming it— I feel... proud.

A newfound sense of pride.

***

After the ceremony, the procession crammed through the double doors placed on each of the walls in the room. The blazing heat from the summer sun seared into my dark clothing, forming immediate beads of sweat across my forehead. I hooked my badge to the waist of my pants and proceeded to remove my black blazer and unbuttoned the first 3 buttons of my white tailored, non-iron shirt.

I squinted, looking off into the crowd of families and agents. I spotted my mother's back and walked towards her. The smell of the barbecue and music playing on the field beside the building stitched itself into the fabric of the air. There were bounce houses set up for families with kids and large tables at which a group of men— and their wives—- played a friendly game of poker. I recognized one of the husbands as Martin who'd I'd partnered up with once for a training mission.

"DON'T BE A LITTLE BITCH MARTIN! IT'S $70.00. Go big or go home," yelled Martin's wife. Martin shook his head, took out his wallet and chucked a few bills in the center. I chuckled remembering how he'd complain about his overbearing wife.