CHAPTER 31

As Miguel walked out of the apartment, he grabbed his still packed duffel bag, slinging it over his shoulder and walking out. Once he was outside, Miguel slid to the ground in front of the apartment and he put his head in his hands. His heart was struggling to catch up to where his mind was, and he was only now starting to truly feel the blinding pain of what had just happened. He had just ruined the best thing to ever happen to him, and for what? For a job that he could only do for another 7 years before he had to retire? A job that had prevented him from seeing his loved ones for so long. How could he let things get this fucked up? He shouldn't have re-enlisted after his 3 year tour. He should've just pulled out and lived a normal life. He had let the military suck him in like a blackhole, and now he was slowly but surely being ripped apart.

Tears quickly streamed thick and fast down his face as Miguel broke down on the sidewalk. Eventually, when his eyes were completely raw from crying, Miguel stumbled to his feet and clambered into a cab.

"Where to?" The cab driver asked. Miguel was rendered speechless for a moment. Where was he supposed to go now? He was no longer living at his and Sam's apartment, so where could he go? He couldn't go live on base for 2 weeks before flying out to Afghanistan. He didn't want to. He was so fucking done with the Navy, and all of the shit that it put him through for a measly paycheck and a crapload of PTSD.

Miguel eventually gathered his thoughts and asked the driver to take him to the roughest dive bar in the city. These places are where Miguel felt most at home. Among other massive brutes and the most monstrous people in the city. They made it moments later, and mIguel walked in. The strong stench of cheap beer, cheap cologne and cheap cigarettes immediately filled Miguel's nostrils, and he gagged slightly at the sudden change from the clear air outside.

Miguel walked over to the bar and sat down, before ordering shot after shot of alcohol, ignoring the loud noises around him. The bar was packed with people, and they were all either playing pool at the back of the room or watching Football in the front. Miguel took no heed of them though, sitting at the far corner of the bar with several shots of whiskey. He poured the first small vial of liquid down his throat, relishing the burn that it created as it slowly slithered from his lips to his stomach. As he downed two more shots, he started to feel his brain slowing down, his hatred towards the Navy starting to numb. As he closed his eyes, he felt his brain dragged back in time 11 years, to some of the lowest moments of his entire life…

"Have a great day, Miggy!" Carmen exclaimed as 18 year old Miguel slowly got out of the car and walked into West Valley High. It was the last week of April, so Miguel had just over two more months of high school before he finally graduated and got out of this place. 4 years. 4 years of him being beaten up, made fun of and bullied by the rich, popular kids. But it was almost over and soon, he could walk out of those gates and never come back.

Miguel's thoughts were interrupted when he saw his two best friends Demitri and Eli walk up to him. Miguel smiled faintly at them.

"Hey." Eli nodded at him.

"Hey guys." Miguel replied. "How were your weekends?"

"Good. Yours?" Demitri replied.

"Fine." Miguel grunted as they started heading towards class. However, before he could make it two steps, Miguel was roughly slammed into a locker and he slid to the ground. Miguel groaned in pain and looked up to see Kyler, Brucks and his group of popular bully friends staring down at him and cackling gleefully.

"Sup, 'Rhea." Kyler grinned as Miguel slowly stumbled to his feet. Kyler and his gang then turned around and started to walk away. Miguel dusted off his back and arms and clutched his elbow. He had hit the locker HARD and his elbow was throbbing. He winced.

"2 months, man." Miguel grumbled to his friends as they continued walking to class. "Two months and I never have to see that dickhead again."

At that moment, Miguel and his friends turned the corner and found themselves face to face once again with Kyler and his gang. Kyler's group smirked at them and raised an eyebrow. Miguel closed his eyes and hoped to God that Kyler hadn't heard what he had just said. Unfortunately, he wasn't that lucky.

"Now, now, I hope you weren't talking about me." Kyler remarked. Miguel took a deep breath and sighed, clenched his jaw and tensing up, preparing for what was inevitably about to happen. Sure enough, Miguel was roughly kicked into an empty classroom, where Kyler and his buddy closed the door and drew the blinds shut, before proceeding to beat the crap out of him.

THUD! THUD! THUD!

Miguel softly cried out in pain as Kyler's friends held Miguel's arms back and Kyler rained punch after punch at Miguel's stomach. They didn't go for the head as a bruise there would be obvious to teachers, but the beatdown was still just as bad for Miguel, and it lasted for several minutes before Kyler and his buddies left.

"Remember 'Rhea… you snitch, and this all gets a whole lot worse." Kyler threatened, before walking out of the room.

Lying on the ground, Miguel slowly pulled himself to his feet. His ribs were in excruciating pain, but it was nothing compared to the searing, blinding pain he felt to his pride. His whole life, Miguel had been walked over by every bully he had ever known, too emotionally and physically weak to stand up for himself. That had to change. If he continued on this path of running away or submitting to hostile people, he would never gain the confidence needed to live a good life. But how could he change this? What could he possibly do? Suddenly, the answer came to him… the U.S Navy brochure that a recruiter had handed out to everyone at school the day before burned a hole into his sweatshirt pocket…

There it was. The stupid move that started the series of crappy events in his life. If only he hadn't joined the Navy… he could've found another way to gain strength and confidence, and he wouldn't have had to make all of the sacrifices he had made for the sake of the military. He wouldn't have had to watch all of his brothers die either overseas or back home to their internal demons.

Miguel poured another two shots down his throat without even stopping to think, and he found his brain getting less and less responsive. He was soon not strong enough to keep himself in the present, and found himself being pulled right back into another flashback…

"Okay, mom, yaya, please sit down. We need to talk." Miguel said, seating his mom and yaya in the living room. There was one month until school ended, and Miguel had finally finalised his future. He just needed to do the hardest step: telling his mom what he had decided.

"What's up, Miggy?" Carmen asked, curiously. Miguel seemed pretty nervous when he told them that he needed to talk to them earlier, and he was very cryptic about what it was about. Miguel took a deep breath. This was it. He was about to tell them about the Navy.

"So, I want to talk to you guys about my future." Miguel said.

"Sure. But I thought you were going to community college next year while we save enough for you to be able to go to college after. Carmen remarked. Miguel shook his head.

"No, I'm… I'm not going to do that." He replied. "So… as you guys know, I don't have the money for actual college, and I've tried and I've tried but an academic scholarship just isn't happening. Going to community college is basically just resigning myself to become a minimum-wage earning Latino plumber or handyman for the rest of my life. I'm not going to let that happen. I need to make a future to myself. So I've been speaking to a recruiter for the past month."

"A recruiter?" Carmen asked, confused. "You're trying to get a sports scholarship?"

Miguel laughed.

"Yeah, cause I'm the next LeBron James, right?" Miguel joked. "No, not a college sports recruiter, mom. I've been talking to a recruiter for the Navy and I've decided to enlist."

Carmen was stunned speechless. She turned a ghastly white as all of the color left her face.

"Say something Mom." Miguel asked as Carmen was silent for several moments.

"You can't be serious." A stunned Carmen finally managed to say. "You could be deployed to God knows where and forced to fight! Have you seriously thought this through?!"

"But Mom, lots of guys go into the military and come home without a scratch. The Navy will help pay for college after two years. Everyone's going to college but me. I'm not going to be stuck in Reseda for the rest of my life. This is something I have to do." Miguel pleaded with his mother.

"Miguel, you could get killed!" Carmen exclaimed, tears springing to her eyes.

"Mom, I could get hit by a bus in downtown L.A tomorrow." Miguel shot back.

"Miggy, you're the most important person in the world to me. I can't lose you. You can apply to other colleges. You can apply for grants, scholarships, and college loans."

"Look, mom, it's not just about money. I need to do this for me. My whole life, I let myself get walked over by anyone. I haven't stood up for myself. I need to show the bad people in this world, and I need to show myself that I'm not afraid. I need to become a man. Look, I'm doing this with or without your support but I would really appreciate it if you guys were on board. Both of you"

There was a long silence, where Carmen and Miguel's yaya seemed to be having a silent conversation with each other with their eyes.

"Well, Miguelito, I'm so proud of you. I fully support you." Miguel's yaya eventually replied, hugging her grandson tightly and kissing him on the cheek. Miguel smiled at his grandma and then slowly turned to his mom, who had an unreadable expression on her face.

"Mom?" Miguel asked, nervously. He could feel his heart pounding as he waited for what seemed like an eternity. Carmen's mind was spinning in so many different ways. She felt like someone had just stabbed a dagger through her chest. She couldn't believe her baby was going into the military. She felt to blame. Had she not done enough as a mother? Sure they didn't have that much money, but Carmen tried as best as she could to make up for it in other ways. Had that all not been enough? I mean, her son didn't just want to leave home, but he'd rather be on the other side of the world getting shot at by the most vile people humanity has to offer than stay home.

Carmen took a deep breath and wiped her eyes, before turning to Miguel, scowling.

"Look, Miguel, if you're asking me to support this… I'm sorry, but I can't. I can't condone my only child getting himself killed fighting some stupid war in this Middle East."

Miguel's heart shattered. He figured that his mom would be the same supportive person she had been throughout his life, but he realised that he was wrong. He held in all emotion and clenched his jaw.

"Fine, then I do it without you." Miguel spat. Carmen put her head in her hands and ran out the room…

Damn. If only Carmen had stuck by her word and didn't support him and didn't come around by the time he left for training like she did, maybe Miguel's time in the Navy could have actually stopped after 2 years. Maybe he wouldn't end up spending 10 years doing a job that fucked up every other part of his life that he cared about. Maybe he would be home for longer than 30 days a year He knew how stupid his mind sounded, wishing that his mom didn't support him, but his drunk, wandering mind couldn't help but think. His life could've been SO different if one or two things played out differently. Maybe he could still be with Sam.

Sam… even just thinking about her caused an immense pain to Miguel's gut, a pain that could only be quenched with two more shots of alcohol. As the liquor made its way into his bloodstream, Miguel felt his brain slip more and more away, and his vision started to slightly blur. As he downed yet another small glass of whiskey, Miguel realised something… he truly had sold his soul to the U.S military. He had sacrificed his relationship with his girlfriend, sacrificed his relationship with his family, basically sacrificed having any sort of life outside of his job. He never got time off, he never lived anywhere long enough to form meaningful bonds with the people around him. He was a slave, a military prostitute who was forced to do anything the Navy told him to do, for a frighteningly little pay. He needed to get out of the Navy. NOW!

However, before his body could catch up with his mind, Miguel closed his eyes and was immediately dragged back, despite his mind's protests, to the gruesome attack on the U.S Embassy…

"What's going on?" The Marine whispered to Miguel. He was behind Miguel as the SEAL peaked out, so he couldn't see what was going on.

"They're at the door to the bunker." Miguel replied. "Three hostages are down. Haqqani has a knife to the throat of the fourth."

"What do we do?" The Marine asked.

"Well, they managed to cut through the embassy easily, so chances are they got this place mapped out. They knew about the secret back entrance and the vault, right?"

"Right." The Marine nodded.

"That means they know about the emergency stairwell at the back of the ambassador's office." Miguel continued.

"What are you thinking?" The Marine asked.

"I say we chase them towards the exit." Miguel murmured.

"There's only two of us!"

"This is a surgical strike for them, it's not a suicide mission. They're just here to get the list. They'd rather run than engage in firefight."

"You sure?" The Private asked. Miguel looked at the terrified Private right in the eye and sighed.

"No." Miguel replied, honestly.

At that moment, the assistant director of the CIA finally finished unlocking the vault and he stepped out, facing the terrorist. Miguel's eyes widened when he saw this.

"Shit." He whispered as he watched the assistant director hand the list to Haqqani's right-hand-man.

"Here. Now let her go." The assistant director begged. Haqqani nodded and murmured something in his native language into the young girl's ear. But rather than letting her go, Haqqani slashed his knife right through her neck…

NO! Miguel roughly pulled his mind out of the flashback, slamming his head against the table multiple times in his drunken state, gathering various glares from around the bar. But Miguel didn't notice. He was in his own world. Miguel put his head in his hands and tears threatened to spill over his cheeks once again. How did his life get so fucked up? On one hand, he knew that he needed to get justice for all those who were killed on the day of the attack, but on the other, he knew that if he went through with the mission, he would be pulled even deeper into the grave that he was digging for himself with every passing day he spent in the Navy.

Eventually, Miguel came to a decision… he would complete the upcoming mission, but after that, when his enlistment ends, he was getting the hell out of the Navy…