LINE UP!

"Name." A tall man with broad shoulders sneers down as me, as he assesses my skinny legs. lanky arms and overall thin build. He has a scar on the left side of his neck that shows he almost became best friends with a wicked blade.

I gulp, and he catalogues the movement as well.

"A-." I begin in a quiet voice. Being meek won't get me anywhere, so I try again. My grip tightens on the strap of my bag that is across my chest. "Ashtin", I say...not much louder than before. I internally roll my eyes at myself. Well, atleast my voice didn't quiver. I'll take the wins when I can.

"Family name." He belts at me, spittle flying at each syllable.

I straighten my shoulders and say proudly, "Sulan".

He stares, without blinking, into my eyes. I'm not sure what he's looking for or if he's going to find it. Luckily, the awkward stand off only lasts for a few more seconds before he leans in and shouts in my face. "LINE UP!".

I flinch, but am able to recover and step away from the madman. I make my way towards the line that is forming behind him. I keep my eyes on the ground and walk to what I am hoping is the end of the line, as it is the farthest from the bossy fellow. As I go to stand in the next vacant spot, a pair of feet block my way and I gasp in surprise.

I look up into the face of a bulky, tan and rugged teenager who leers at me before hooking a thumb in the direction behind him. I take that as he wants to be last in line, so I move towards the new spot. But before I can reach it, another person blocks my way. This time, it's a tall, lanky kid who is giving off some dark vibes. I almost want to push his buttons and see how deep his darkness actually goes, but I remind myself of my goal and look behind him to see if that's where I should be.

The next guy slowly shakes his head at me, so I continue to look down the line of at least 50 male teenagers - that I just walked by - and it dawns on me that they want me to go all the way back to where the first madman waits, Mr. Bossy himself.

Damn.

I feel heat crawl up my neck in embarassment, so I hike up my collar and try to soothe my nerves. I walk towards where they all want me to go. When I get there I try to inch as far away from him as I can, almost as if his bad attitude is contagious.

I look to the next person in line, who is on my right hand side. I nod in greeting, "Hello, I'm Tin."

He glances my way before looking to the side in dismissal.

"Shut the fuck up, Tin." He says.

I widen my eyes...that, was unexpected. And rude. i grumble under my breath in displeasure and look back towards Mr. Grumpy who's actually not sounding half bad anymore.

I see that he has checked in another boy who is heading our way with watery eyes.

My hear throbs in sadness for him. This isn't right. We, as a country, should not have to do this. We shouldn't have to sentence our youth to fight the battles of old and out of touch leaders. There's other solutions than the route with senseless slaughter and bloodshed that they are currently pursuing.

Last week the country's leaders announced a decree that all abled-body males ages 16 to 25 must serve the infantry. They must arrive by noon on this day to their closest command post and to begin training and assimilate into the ranks.

There's more options than this, I know it.

But my family...I sigh internally. It doesn't matter anymore. What they think doesn't matter anymore either. I'm here and I'm going to see this through.

My name, my real name is Astin. I am not a male, but I am a 17 year old female hidden under loose clothing who has just joined a militarized borstal facility for boys.

I have been enlisted and recruited.

And I will show them what I am made of.