That smell of sweaty teenagers packed together in a minibus is very distinct. And unpleasant.

Much to my fucking dismay, it’s been about 25 minutes and I’m still stuck in this damn bus, forced to sit next to a random twat and forced to inhale body odour.

Not that I can talk, though, since I’m definitely contributing to it. It is hot as shit in here.

It does seem as if we’re almost there, though. Probably because of the massive red signs saying “BASSINGBOURN BARRACKS” with arrows pointing down the road we’re going. To be fair, I did enjoy the ride.

Kinda.

That Robin guy next to me did fall asleep, but much to my horror, he fell asleep in the window seat, so I couldn’t even admire the view much. All there was to do was keep looking at the GPS system up front for updates, and think.

Yeah, I know. Thinking? That’s rare.

Still, you’d kinda have to think after having your entire fucking life flipped on its head; albeit I was mostly thinking of food.

Goddamn I am hungry, maybe even more than Meharab.

Actually, maybe not that much.

Hunger doesn’t matter right now though, I’m pretty sure we’re entering the base.

The fences topped with barbed wire seem to go on endlessly, with warning signs to stay out dotted along them at regular intervals. There’s also a massive “NO PHOTOGRAPHY” sign positioned right in front of the gate. Not that I expected much photography to be occurring anyways.

With what little I can see through the windshield, the base is absolutely fucking massive.

Passing through the gates, it’s an immediate fork in front of a massive front building.

Is this my first, or second time in an army base? Is the reserve centre an army base?

No idea, but this is way cooler.

We take the left fork, and keep driving.

The camp is slightly eerie at night, with the streetlights far and few between. I try to nudge that Robin guy awake, and he immediately snaps his eyes open and adjusts himself upright.

Fucking freak.

Everyone else in the minibus is still awake, all zoning out. Those next to each other seem awkward and uncomfortable. Pretty sure we’ll just have to get used to each other, with the army being a collective or some other shit like that.

The minibus starts to slow down, pulling up to what seems like two long buildings attached to a single building. Dorms? Or, more appropriately, barracks?

My question is answered once they finally cut the engine and decide to speak to us,

“Alright, listen once again. I know you’re all fucking knackered, so just head in to the first room on each side. We’ll wake you all up at 12. Girls on the left, boys on the right. Everyone except…” The lieutenant unfolds a piece of paper, “Ms Hussain.”

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God fucking damnit.

I can’t even get to sleep without having my ass be different.

Not like I have a choice, though. I force myself out of the minibus along with everyone else, except I just stand there outside with my shit, waiting for them to speak to me.

“Aren’t you special?” says the lieutenant. “We still need to run a 2k, so you get to do it now. In the cold. Great! Now, come with us. Leave your shit here.”

Man. I do not want to do this now.

Reluctantly, I obey and drop my stuff on the floor before following the guy around a corner. Seems like there's a football pitch here, though instead of grass, I think it’s packed dirt.

The lieutenant ushers me in as he unlocks the gate, his keys jangling loudly while he does it.

“Start running around the perimeter.” He commands.

Running, lovely. Thankfully, I’m mildly competent at running. What I do is I simply don’t focus on it.

Left, right, left, right, left, right. My steps seem to jolt my whole body. How big is this pitch? I have to time my damn breathing with my steps to ignore the growing pain inside me.

“Keep going. You have 6 laps.” The lieutenant shouts.

6? Fucking great.

More counting steps, it seems.

I can feel the dirt under my feet judder with each step I take. I’ll literally take anything to distract me from the burning in my chest right now. Not as if I can even stop, there's still, what, 5 laps?

Just zone out, I guess. Let the pain wash over you. Can I do that thing where I somehow have time just fucking pass by in an instant while running? I did somehow burn fucking 11 hours reading that damn letter.

Just keep running.

And running.

And going.

Maybe this isn’t so bad.

“Alright, good.” The lieutenant says. “You’ve finished, stop running now.”

What?

Did I really do that? Fucking timeskip? Is zoning out that effective?

“9:02, a better 2km time than any of the others. Good job. Lykan was fucking right about you, what even are you?”

What am I? Great fucking question.

“I’m Amaya.” I barely manage to say, out of breath. That run took everything out of me, my whole body aches.

“Smart response. Get your ass to the dorms. We’ll keep your nocturnes to a minimum.”

“Nocturnes?”

“Night exercises.”

Makes sense.

Quickly scurrying back, I scoop up my bags and rush to the left building.

It’s a surprisingly clean looking place, if not a bit hostile. Plain white walls, dark concrete floor and radiators dotted on the walls.

The first door upon entering just says “ROOM 13”. I don’t think I need to say why I think this is the room.

As I slowly creak open the door, the other girls are already knocked out on their beds. The room itself is pretty nice, it’s split into 2 sections connected by a gap in the walls. Each bed has a wardrobe and 2 cabinets, along with 2 sockets up top. They really like doubles.

Nevertheless, I’m tired out my fucking mind too. I don’t care about changing, I have no other clothes to get into.

Shoving my bags under my bed and taking off my shoes, I drop myself onto the mattress.

Solid, how I like it.

God, did I really do that? A 9 minute 2km run? That’s pretty fast, I think. At least better than everyone else (yes more ego fuel!!), and that's enough for me.

But like, how do I even do that zoning out so effectively?

It’s fucking useful, and I wouldn’t want it any other way; but y’know, you’d still have to be curious. The lieutenant might be right.

“What am I?” What an impossible question to answer.

What am I? I’m me.

I’m special.