Hi, again. :) It's time for chapter 2, now and I hope, youre still okay with things so far.^^ As there is not much to tell at the moment, I'll keep talking short. So, enjoy the new chapter and feel free to comment ask or criticise on whatever is concerning you about it.

Love, Eeva^^

CHAPTER 2: Dear mum and dad…

The door that separated the captain's office from the rest of the base swung open and crashed against the walls next to the entrance when Cadet Pickens rushed past the guards and into the room.
"Captain Jonas! Sir!"

The captain signalized the guards to keep calm and let the young man stay in his office.

"Sir, I…", Pickens gasped totally out of breath.

"For our dear leader's sake, Pickens", Jonas sighed, "Sit down and take a breath, first…"

He pointed at one of the chairs infront of his desk.

"What's wrong", he asked, voice calm but gaze fixed on the blond who was still not sitting down.

"Sir, I… I have to join the others on the next maneuver!", he bursted out instead,"I'm begging you. Please…"

"Not again, Stephen…" Jonas sighed deeply, "I'm sorry, son, but I can't – "

"But why? Why can't you just let me join the others? Does it seem so impossible to you to let me leave this base? Even, if it is for one single time?"

Pickens finally sat down.

Again. Again, it simply was NO. And again there would be those damn excuses…

"Because they say so.", Jonas answered calmly, but Pickens felt the tension rising between them.
Fine. So let it be. Not.

Not again.

"Because they say so", he repeated, "Of course. They. It's always them who decided that dumbass Pickens is not allowed to operate a plane outside lessons. You know what? I'm sick and tired of those dumb excuses. Are they even existing, or is it simply just you who doesn't want me to do anything else than sweeping the floor in the kitchen and waiting tables?"

"Stephen… Listen…"
"No, Martin! This time, it's not Stephen, it's Cadet Pickens, even for you... - No matter, how deep the friendship between you and grandpa might have been, this doesn't mean, you always have to treat me different than the rest. I've finished every exercise possible that was necessary to pass on to exercise maneuver, so why don't you just let me join the others, finally?"

Pickens felt the anger rise with every word he spoke. Enough. This time, he really had enough of those apologies and lame excuses. What were they expecting from him, anyways? Should he be waiting tables and serving Crispy Pudding for the rest of his life? If they wanted him to do so, then forget it. He HATED Crispy Pudding!

"Stephen, please…"
"It's NOT STEPHEN, god dammit!"

Pickens slammed his hands onto the desk right in front of the Captain. The gesture was even strong enough to make the small hydroculture on it shake and finally topple.

"Oh, no! I-I'm sorry, sir!"

Cadet Picken's eyes widened in terror as soon as he realized what he had done. "I really didn't mean to… - I'll clean this up, immediately. Just… Just let me get a rug or something…"

He started to rummage his pockets but couldn't find anything to clean the mess. Meanwhile, the water, he had spread over the desk, dripped over the edge and down on the floor.

"I'm sorry… So sorry…"

Jonas observed the strange behavior and then he sighed again. He stood up and walked around the desk to put his hand on Picken's shoulder who meanwhile tried to dry the mess with his sleeve.

"It's okay", he said and made him stop. "Look, son, why don't you just calm down now? Take a breath and maybe a shower might help you, too. At least, if you want to get rid of the stress – and that glutinous stuff there in your hair…"

He smiled kindly and pointed at some rest of Crispy Pudding stuck in Picken's hair.

"But…"

"It's okay, Stephen." With these words, he led Pickens away from the desk and guided him out of his office and towards the elevator.

"Don't worry, son", he said after the young man had stepped inside the metal box in front of them, "There is a time for everything and everyone. And yours will come soon, too. Believe me."

Then the doors shut between them and the elevator went downwards towards the cadet's quarters and was soon out of sight.

'Well', Captain Jonas thought smiling on his way back to his office, 'If you were still alive, Andrew, I'd make sure to kick your ass for making me have an eye on this boy for you, you know...'

Meanwhile, the elevator reached Level D which was the level the cadets had their rooms on here on Cloud Number Five. Cadet Pickens still leaned his back against the wall and stared at the ceiling instead of leaving the small chamber.

"Great", he murmured, ignoring the doors opening and closing themselves next to him, "This will break your fckn' neck, Pickens. Yelling at the Captain… -You're done, man. Forever and a day…"

He sighed and leaned his head against the cold metal while running his fingers through his hair.

"And you're the worst stuff, one can ever eat."

He watched the adhesive stuff between his fingers and grimaced. Crispy Pudding. Really… Who in the world would ever want to eat that? This was nothing more than 90 percent pure sugar, raw eggs and flavored milk. Vanilla? Chocolate? Strawberry? What the hell are you dreaming of, folks? Better some milk-powder and e-numbers from 1 to 9999. But the best thing about it surely were the 10 percent of some disgusting crunchy stuff, no one would ever find out what it was actually made of…

The cabin went PING again and Pickens finally found back to reality. He left the elevator and scuffled towards the showers, first. After getting rid of the dirt, he felt a little better and walked back to his quarters.

His thoughts were still running in circles in his head, but basically, he already had made his decision… As hard as it would be for him, for his parents and whoever else: He would finally leave the academy.

Jonas wouldn't let him fly with all the others, even if he was able to become one hundred years old. He had seen it in the eyes of the older man and therefore, there wasn't any urge to stay here any longer…

Finally arrived at his room, he sat down on his desk, pulled out pen and paper and started to write.

Dear mum and dad,

I know, it's been a while since I wrote to you the last time. I'm sorry for that and I hope, you both and Clara are still doing fine. Is she still the best at class? And are you still planning to gift her a pony, if she finishes school with an A?

He smiled, when he thought about the big eyes, his sister Clara had made, when their parents had promised to buy her a real pony if she finished school as one of the best…

As you can imagine, these are not the only reasons, I'm writing to you, today. I wish, they were, but it's a little different. In fact, the topic, I want to tell you about isn't that positive at all…

I know, you've pinned a lot of hope and dreams on me, becoming an Angel of Peace once. I'm sorry to disappoint you, now. I won't ever become one of the Angels. Not even a pilot.

Captain Jonas won't let me join the exercise-maneuver, again. And the other cadets think that I'm best off with cleaning the floor and waiting tables. For this reason, I have decided to quit education and leave the academy.

Please, don't be sad or feel ashamed, now. You'll soon know, that it was the best, to do so. What will become of me instead, I don't know, yet. But, I'm pretty sure, everything will be okay in the end. What I want, is just that you will be able to answer anything else to the question 'What's your son doing?' than 'Oh, he's sweeping the dirt from some old kitchen floor, you know…', that's all.

So, remember, that I love you and will still always try to make you proud.

Love, Stephen

After finishing the letter to his parents, Cadet Pickens folded the paper accurately and put it into an envelope to seal it. This would be leaving the base with the next mail plane, tomorrow…

He put the letter aside, stood up and threw himself onto his bed. Staring at the ceiling lamp, he let his thoughts roam around in his head. What was he supposed to do after leaving the academy? Which job should he choose? Would he even be able to choose, after his parents got this letter? Would they still let him? Or better: Would he even be still their son, anyway? What, if they threw him out and banished him from their memories forever?
Maybe, something like this would just serve him right, he thought. Who would want to call some good-for-nothing loser their son? Or brother…

He would. But he wasn't his parents. And his little sister Clara had always been the perfect daughter so far…

He closed his eyes.
"I'm sorry, guys", he whispered. And after some more time spent on his back on the bed, thoughts running in circles, he finally managed to fall asleep.