"Goodbye," he waved at the sea of faces he befriended over the past nineteen years. They were his neighbors, his classmates, a high school crush he never acted on, teachers, and so much more.

"Goodbye," he said again with a smile growing on his face.

Taking a step closer to the train destined for the capital city. The city where he would begin his life and discover just kind of man he was to become. Would he succeed or would he fail? Would he rise in rank? Or leave, cold and dishonored...

Engrossed in his goodbyes and eagerness to leave, he completely missed the panic and fear that plagued his parents. Both were desperately trying to get his attention. They were losing their little boy. Their baby. The boy they'd spent everything on. Their pride and joy. And he? Why, he couldn't give them five seconds. He couldn't tell them goodbye.

Failed attempt after failed attempt, they did the only thing they could think of.

"Jackson Andrew Morrison!" a woman's voice caused him to sheepishly turn to face her.

She stood with a hand on a hip and a scorn glare across her face. She was peeved. Wincing like a scolded puppy, he told himself all would be fine. It had to be. No matter what she had to say, he'd made up his mind. He was leaving. He was going to boot camp. Granted, that didn't mean he wasn't in the wrong. He probably should have spent the past few minutes listening to her rather than waving like a goof to the townsfolk.

Trying to butter her up, he schmoozed on over to her. "Mom," his wide blue eyes instantly calmed her. "I promise, I'll be okay. Besides, I have to pass basic before anything serious happens. You have nothing to worry about!"

Grumbling, she muttered a few words under her breath.

"Mom," he laughed before squeezing her in his arms. "I'm serious, quit worrying about me. I'll be fine!"

The woman who had raised him found herself losing her anger. The exchange of emotions soon left her feeling anxious, fearful, and overly worrisome.

"But my baby," her hands cupped around his cheeks. "What if you get bullied like you did back in first grade?" Pulling Jack into her chest, she coddled her full-grown son. "What if someone steals your food! What if you get sick! Who will ma-"

Jack graced her cheek with a kiss. "Mom," he squeezed her hands, "I'll be fine. I'm a big boy. You and dad taught me well. I can handle myself."

Rubbing her nose, Mrs Morrison fought back the tears. Saying goodbye to her only child was harder than she expected. He was heading off to a big, new world. To the city. To war.

"Just in case," his father sauntered up beside them, "your mother and I put together a care package."

"A care package?" His brow quirked. Who was he to argue. He knew his mother wouldn't let him leave without taking something.

"Yes, just in case." Again, she rubbed her nose with sniffing. "I-I made a few of your favorites. I baked you your fa-" she was cutoff by her equally as nervous husband.

"I packed you this pepper-spray. Never know when someone might try to jump you."

At Jack's cocked brow, his mother stepped in. "Well that could come in handy. You're not the biggest boy out there, you know!"

Reluctantly, he watched it get packed into a care bag.

"I also packed you this air horn," he laid on the horn, which caused Jack to wince. "Still works. It's a great deterrent for anyone who thinks they can pull one over on you."

"Dad," Jack rolled his eyes, "I highly doubt I-" A jolt of lightning flashed before his eyes. "What the hell, dad!"

"What? You never know when you'll need a taser!"

"Are you crazy?!" Looking between his parents, he saw the joy in their eyes. They truly thought they were helping. Helping by packing all these so-called self-defense items. As if he needed them. Jack was a runner. If he ever got into a situation words or fists couldn't solve, he could run. And boy could he run.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Jack scoffed. "Look," he reached for the pepper-spray, "I'll take this. Just this."

An exchange happened between his parents. "At least con-" They silenced themselves at his stare. "The pepper-spray is good. It ought to repel anyone who crosses a line."

"Yeah," Jack rubbed the nape of his neck. This was embarrassing. Why did they have to be so overprotective? Treat him like a baby?

Grabbing the bag, he moved toward the train.

Standing on the stairs, he cast one final look over at his parents. Everything within him told him to just get on the train. But, Jack being Jack, couldn't do that. Running from the stairs, he swung his arms open to embrace his parents one last time.

"I love you guys," he gave his mother one final kiss.

"Promise you'll write!"

"Mom," Jack marched back to the stairs, "this isn't the 20s. I can call you."

"Promise you'll call," she choked before falling into tears.

Rolling his eyes, he boarded the train before he completely abandoned this dream of his. He'd been wanting to help people ever since he was a kid. And a police officer wasn't going to cut it. He had to be a soldier. A hero.

Taking the stairs two at a time, he climbed into the upper cabin of the train. Alone, he claimed the front-most window, which had an awe-inspiring view of the unknown horizon before him. This... this was the moment he spent his whole life waiting for.

Whatever happened here on out, it would define him. Mold him. Make him into a man. And, with any luck, make his parents proud.

Earbuds in his ears, he flipped through a few songs before finding the one that was just right.

Oh, oh, oh, oh, ohh
Oh, oh, oh, oh, ohh
Oh, oh, oh, oh, ohh
Oh, oh, oh, oh, ohh

I messed up tonight, I lost another fight
I still mess up but I'll just start again
I keep falling down, I keep on hitting the ground
I always get up now to see what's next

Birds don't just fly, they fall down and get up
Nobody learns without getting it wrong

I won't give up, no I won't give in
Till I reach the end and then I'll start again
No I won't leave, I wanna try everything
I wanna try even though I could fail...