Dust and dirt covered all your clothes, bullets and pieces of clothing were everywhere, and the pain was spreading through your body so fast that you thought you were going to pass out. But a rough, loud voice kept you from doing so. The voice you hear in your worst nightmares.

"Get up."

Ghost. Your lieutenant. Your teacher.

"Get up, or I'll kill you right here."

He was never known for being kind or supportive. Every soldier who trained under him went through a circle of hell. But for some reason you went through all seven.

He was always harder on you. Pushing you where it hurt the most. His phrases like "The uniform you wear is worth more than you are" or "I've seen corpses with more spirit" were heard hundreds of times a day. Constant comparisons, humiliations, insults and punishments for nothing.

But what did you do in response?

You gritted your teeth and continued to work. You tried harder than was possible. You went above and beyond. You were better than the others, and you knew it. No one worked as hard as you did. But he never saw it.

The biggest praise you heard after you'd done better than everyone else was, "Well, maybe you'll die later than the others. You'll almost look like a hero to them."

But it wasn't "die" you remembered, it was "hero."

It was like a bone you throw to a dog, and he cherishes it, thinking it's a sign of love.

Gathering all your remaining strength into a fist you rose to your feet as he'd commanded. Your whole body ached with unbearable pain, but you stood. As you always did.

He only hummed, not looking at you.

"You know what your problem is? You follow every order like an obedient dog, thinking someone will see you as a soldier. But there's nothing in you. No strength. No intelligence. No future. You're not even a disappointment. That would’ve meant I expected you to be something."

And at that moment, something broke. Quietly, without a sound.

Something inside you.