I Wanna Be a SOLDIER!
A young boy strode along a narrow gravel path woven against outcroppings of weeds and grass. He stood, a lone figure, painted bold against the vastness of space. Why he was there, he did not know, nor did he care; all that mattered was that he knew where he wanted to be. His destiny beckoned him to the city of Midgar, but that would be a long ways off.
He had not the patience or peace of mind to wait, and so was bored. In this matter, he simply struck aside the larger pebbles his boot would come across, occasionally stooping down to take one in hand for a practice fling. It wasn't much in the way of entertainment, nor very stimulating, but it kept one's mind occupied until thoughts made their way into the head.
The boy turned to the sky, as if in expectancy of something, though he knew nothing would come. It was then he saw the feathery white hanging about the horizon in large bulky patches. He formed the name with his lips, uttering in a tone whisked away by the passing breeze, "Cloud…"
Maybe someone might hear it on the wind? Then maybe they might remember it, and one day christen their child by the same name. It was a foolish wish, though in the recesses of his mind, he remembered being told the same tale long ago by a familiar voice, his mother's.
Cloud. It wasn't the proper name for a man, maybe for a boy, but not for a man. And oh, how he yearned to be a man! Weakness he had detested, even before he could remember. He fought to be the best at everything, and -as he beheld himself- he was. Hubris was his forte, though he wouldn't openly admit it. It was this last shred of dignity that gave him ambition in life because the truth was he had none; at the bottom of his heart, the aching hatred he beheld for the name was spurned from the soul beneath it.
Yes, he could say he hated himself, but that wouldn't be the complete truth: more specifically, he reviled the weakness of his self. He hated it in a way that one might a cancerous limb, one that would have to be cut away to prevent its disease from ravaging the body. But what could one do if the cancer had reared its head at the heart?
He knew, it was a truth he could not escape, and for once in his life he chose not to run. Weakness… he thought for a moment, inevitably losing himself in the process, accessing memories cast deep within his subconscious.
It's amazing how one thing could always lead to another no matter how remotely distinct they are; that's how it appeared in this instant. He was propelled back to a distant past, one filled with memories of the young girl he had left back home, how he had failed to rescue her for want of his 'weakness', the painful scars engraved on his knees, promises of knights in shining armor… and SOLDIER. He felt as if he could never forget why he so longed to be one of the ShinRa elite: to stand on a level even with the Great One, Sephiroth. All so he could return home a man, worthy of the girl whom he felt so indebted to for all the pain he had caused her.
Cloud's brief self-absorbed notion soon came to an end, realizing he was still nothing more than a child with a horrible aching in his back from hours of supporting a heavy pack upon his shoulders, a bitingly dry mouth, and failing legs. He grit his teeth and tightened his grip in anger. He wanted to scream, but his words came in a crisp-dry whisper, "I'll take the pain."
Five minutes later, he found himself sprawled across the earthen trail groping for a sip of cold water from the canteen held within his knapsack.
Slowly and wearily, he tore the tight-binding straps from his jaded limbs and propped himself against the heavy bag which lay upon the ground. He sighed heavily, a tear jerked from his eye. But to his surprise, a sudden burst of laughter passed his lips, which continued as more of the salty droplets fell. Though Cloud couldn't find anything remotely funny about the situation, he continued with his hearty laughter. As soon as he knew it, he was clutching his deflated abdomen. How ironic...
*
He reached into his supply bag, taking from it a paper sack his mother had packed him. Clumsily he let his hand explore the parcel for a moment, letting it draw from the sack anything it pleased. Cloud's small fist clenched in it a sandwich as it exited. He gazed out over the open blue, swiped a tuft of golden hair from his eyes, and uttered, "Thanks, Mom."
The lettuce and bits of meat hung from the ends of the dangling sandwich clinched between Cloud's teeth. He cautiously held it in his mouth as he turned around once again and emerged from his inventory with the water canteen he so ached for a moment before, and after taking a deep bite into the morsel at hand, he drenched his parched throat with a surge of water.
Content with his light meal, he
basked in the warm rays of light for a moment reviewing the items in his stock.
He casually pulled all of his equipment from the bulk of tools, like a wealthy
man counting his riches before making a large investment. Amongst the mass, he
found what had been weighing him down; a small library of books meant for the
advance of his education, for study, for knowledge.
She actually thought that he was going to get an education, not just the basics which he had learned back home, but a real education! How he would have to break her heart when he sent her the letter telling her he had went and joined the military! He shivered at the thought, and wished with all his heart that it be a long while before he ever aspired to hold a pen in hand, for he knew the first thing expected of him would be to write a letter home…
Quickly, he finished his meal, then sat up and lifted the lightened load over his shoulder once again. Cloud gazed at the path far behind that slowly crept back home, and sighed, "When will I ever come back to you?"
The gold-tinted heavens then, seemed to beam back, and the West Wind carrying its fleeting whispers responded: "I'll be waiting for you… right here."
Cloud's lips curled into a
slight half-grin as he turned to faced eastward. The scene wasn't much
different with the exception of the black ominous clouds that hung at the
corner of an otherwise silver-lined horizon. It was strange, the raven-dark
haze appeared to forsake his quest, yet at the same time beckon him forth.
Prongs of lightning rippled across the sky, warnings of the troubled road
ahead, but ever so much did it, the danger, make the journey seem ever more
appealing. The sentinel before him represented an unforeseen future. Cloud was
not afraid -not anymore. He would face the storm to come boldly, his head
upraised, standing tall. And once more did the young man find himself ahead on
his way, bounding from the earth and roaring defiantly, "I wanna be a SOLDIER!"