“How are you cadet?” he asked.
“I feel like shit, sir.”
“Look Fernandez’, I know you don’t know me that well, but if you wanna talk, I’m here.”
“I never thought my parents would divorce.”
“Is that what’s beating you up?” he asked. “I hate to say it, but this shit happens every fucking day cadet. People grow apart.”
“You don’t understand Drill Sergeant Ross,” I said. “In the Brazilian culture, a divorce with get you and your family shunned.”
“If the family gets word of my parent’s divorce, that’s it, they’ll never talk to us again.”
I felt that I could trust Drill Sergeant Ross not tell anyone; and although he didn’t give me much advice, it felt good to talk to someone. Ross wanted to know if I planned on staying at camp, so I told him don’t worry, “you still have twenty- three fuck boys to deal with.”
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I’m sure it was from the stress of my parent’s divorce. The letter from my dad was under my pillow, and since I had an extra 30 minutes; I decided to read the letter again. Rereading it made me feel so close but yet so far from the message. That’s when I saw it, and couldn’t believe I didn’t notice it before. But after all I thought, I never did finish reading the letter. It was written so small in pencil I knew immediately that it was papa’s handwriting, only he wrote the size of rice grains. Papa wrote mom called dad a “killer,” for allowing me to enlist in the army and risk me getting shipped off and eventually murdered somewhere overseas. I knew instantly my parent’s divorce was my fault according to mom, and I knew my dad would’ve never told me what she said. At that point, all I wanted to do was comfort my dad and tell papa, thank you, for telling me what really happened. To show my appreciation to the family, or what I was left of it, I needed to finish boot camp and that’s what I
“I feel like shit, sir.”
“Look Fernandez’, I know you don’t know me that well, but if you wanna talk, I’m here.”
“I never thought my parents would divorce.”
“Is that what’s beating you up?” he asked. “I hate to say it, but this shit happens every fucking day cadet. People grow apart.”
“You don’t understand Drill Sergeant Ross,” I said. “In the Brazilian culture, a divorce with get you and your family shunned.”
“If the family gets word of my parent’s divorce, that’s it, they’ll never talk to us again.”
I felt that I could trust Drill Sergeant Ross not tell anyone; and although he didn’t give me much advice, it felt good to talk to someone. Ross wanted to know if I planned on staying at camp, so I told him don’t worry, “you still have twenty- three fuck boys to deal with.”
**** …show more content…
I’m sure it was from the stress of my parent’s divorce. The letter from my dad was under my pillow, and since I had an extra 30 minutes; I decided to read the letter again. Rereading it made me feel so close but yet so far from the message. That’s when I saw it, and couldn’t believe I didn’t notice it before. But after all I thought, I never did finish reading the letter. It was written so small in pencil I knew immediately that it was papa’s handwriting, only he wrote the size of rice grains. Papa wrote mom called dad a “killer,” for allowing me to enlist in the army and risk me getting shipped off and eventually murdered somewhere overseas. I knew instantly my parent’s divorce was my fault according to mom, and I knew my dad would’ve never told me what she said. At that point, all I wanted to do was comfort my dad and tell papa, thank you, for telling me what really happened. To show my appreciation to the family, or what I was left of it, I needed to finish boot camp and that’s what I