MackenzieFowler

      The bugle call sounds at 4 a.m. and madness ensues. This morning marks my third day at the Cadet Leadership Course. Except for minor degrading, the Citadel has been a nice, safe place so far. My mother wouldn’t have forced me to come otherwise. Before I had to give up my phone on day one, she had told me that I could be weak only after trying my best.

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      I quickly make my way down the stairs, my heart racing with anticipation. We’re up an hour early, what will we do today? My feet finally meet the red and white checkered quad, I make a beeline for my flight with a slight limp as multiple cadre yell, “Walk with a purpose!”, and reach my spot in formation. I take a seat and listen in to the hushed conversations around me, only getting bits and pieces. Some of the cadre are mumbling about the girl’s bathroom. Remaining silent, I search around for the physical training instructor: Major Farese.

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      As if on cue, a bald, veiny head struts through the entrance. Anyone who had the gall to speak during his absence immediately fall silent as he carefully scans his surroundings. His face was stoic; eerily so. Even my breath has stilled, but after minutes of suffocating intimidation from Major, it still dared to escape; albeit nervously. Major seems to sense the extra molecules in the air that come from me and whips his head in my direction, though he can’t pinpoint who the breath had come from. I feel his strong aura press against me and begin to shrink into myself, but my fear suddenly turns into anger. Sorry for breathing, Your Excellency, I think to myself as we continue to sit on the cold floor. After a few minutes, I realize Major seems off this morning.

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      He barks a command:

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      “Parade field, NOW!”

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      Our flight commanders don’t have us march off of the quad like we normally do. Instead, everyone walks with a purpose across the checkered area (no running allowed on the quad) and once we reach the sidewalk, we haul ass to the large field. Major Farese stalks out and paces in front of us with a predatorial nature.

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      Eventually he says, “Does the girl who left the bloody tampon in the shower want to come forward? If not, everyone will have to go through a punishment.”

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      Nobody moves or speaks.

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      Major then starts to pick his prey — two guys and one girl. Even though everyone has their nametag pinned on their hat, Major still tells the three cadets to state their names.

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      “Chadwick, sir!”

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      “Thomas, sir!”

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      “Conyers, sir!”

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      Then Major instructs Chadwick to get into push-up position and for the girl, Thomas, to sit on his back. Conyers is instructed to go into a squat. I feel a twinge of pain. Conyers has a pretty serious knee injury from falling during the Marine Obstacle Course. Everyone knew that. What is Major doing?