I'd changed my clothes before coming home, ridding myself of a uniform I might ever wear again. I wasn't too disappointed in that. The military had once provided a second home for me. A means of survival and a way to provide for my family. It took care of me too well for me to exchange any half-effort.
Without question, I'd done what was required of me, went where my superiors needed me. And I'd even…I'd even committed immoral acts for the sake of completing a mission. It hadn't been long before the military began to take advantage of my obedience and abuse me.
So, saying goodbye to the abusive and immoral symbol my uniform was would not faze me.
When I arrived home, I teetered on the edge of hiding in my room for my final night or torturing my soul with the smiles of my family. I chose to see them.
After all, this could be—this probably would be the last night we spent together. And they don't even know.
