I wanted to cry; everyone else was.

Yet there I stood, with my father, both of us with dry faces.

His eyes were sad, and his smiles were filled with pain. Everytime he tried to reassure me, I could feel my heart break, and my insides crumbled.

On the inside I was screaming, throwing the most embarrassing and inappropriate tantrum, yelling at the top of my legs, begging for my father not to let them take me, crying my lungs out and making horrible faces because of it.

On the outside, I was composed with eyes that gave away that I was slightly tired, and signs that I had ever cried were nonexistent.

I was dressed in the uniform of the academy, a duffel bag slung over my shoulder, filled with the few things I was allowed to bring with me.

I never thought I would find myself in this position, but then again I never thought my mother would die, or even Mira.

“Now remember, they aren’t going to go easy on you just because you’re a new recruit,” my father spoke, his voice strained.

“I know dad.”

There was so much more he wanted to say, I could tell. He fumbled over his words before he decided on what to tell me.

“Nina, I love you.”

“I love you too Dad.”

A voice signalled that it was time for everyone to go.

I didn’t like the look my Dad gave me, and I knew that if he spoke, I’d lose it.

I wrapped my arms around him and when I pulled away I kissed his cheek, the way I did when I was kid.

“I’ll see you later, Dad.”

Then I left him. . . alone.