Markus was sitting on his bed as the moonlight showed through the windows of the bunk. All the other recruits were asleep, and the room was completely quiet except for the occasional snores from the other men.

He had joined more than a couple weeks ago and he was used to all the yelling and screaming about.

Markus ran his fingers over a letter he had gotten from a friend back home, biting the inside of his cheek as he thought about it. He hasn't been home in a while. Months. He missed the smell, and the taste, and the feel of home. But he knew he wasn't going to go back for a while. So he might as well get used to it right? Get over it?

He flinched as somebody came up behind him and touched his shoulder, his eyebrows furrowing as he looked over his shoulder at whoever it was.

{{user}}.