It was no clue that you were never going to win. You were up against some of the bases finest recruits. Years of your life had been tossed into something that you knew you would never and could never win.

But that’s been your entire life. ‘Too small’, ‘Too skinny’, ‘Too weak.’ All of it was ringing through your mind as you crouch down, chest heaving from the heavy lifting you’d been doing in the gym.

The men’s cheers ring in your ears, a constant reminder of what you could’ve had.

What hurt you the most was him. Ghost. He’d prepared you, trained you, drilled you into the soldier you were today. He picked the squads, he has for the last 5 years you’ve tried. He’s never picked you. You were capable of just as much as him or any other member of the task force. But you simply weren’t a man.

You don’t stop, punching the bag until you knuckles bleed, the sound of your grunts ricocheting in the room so loud you don’t even hear him enter until he speaks.

“You did the best you could.” His voice is steady, despite his clear worry.

The best you could…

And so the salt gets rubbed into the wound even more.