[hr][h1][center][color=#ff6666]ELIF[/color][/center][/h1][hr]
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Joining the military was to Elif the obvious course of action. After the disaster her father and those who shared a profession with him spent a lot of time in high demand for their services, something which made Elif realize that she wasn´t suited to the life of a medic. She had plenty of experience running around for materials and dealing with the sight of the most gruesome injuries imaginable, yet found herself very lacking in the academic department. Most of medicine, it seemed, had to do with memorizing things from books and charts. She looked at her new path in life with no regrets whatsoever. Those first two talents had to count for something, right?

The general who stood in front of her and the rest of her just as amateur squadmates acted less like a human being and more like a rabid dog only slightly held back from tearing their throats out. She watched as he jerked and shouted from squad member to squad member, as if an invisible chain clamped around his neck was keeping him from a rampage. And then the man locked eyes with her.

Her legs trembled in fear regardless of how much she desperately tried to find a positive side to the discipline she was about to receive, with her natural lankiness exaggerating the effect. She was the sort of person who put no effort in to hiding their emotions. Anyone observing the girl must have probably noticed over half a dozen different signs that she wasn´t sure what was going to happen.

Throughout his shouting the instructor spat so much on her face that Elif thought that it almost might have been intentional. She had similar experiences with patients and their many, many different bodily fluids, so this was nothing to her. No, the pain all came from the man´s words. She didn´t want to be pathetic. She didn´t want to be a killer. 

His final words, asking her who the hell she thought she was, sounded like him reading her thoughts and rejecting them entirely. They struck her deep.

[color=FF6666]“My name.”[/color] She uttered, trying to sound professional. [color=FF6666]“My name is Elif Edilweiss. Sir.”[/color] She tacked on a ´sir´ at the end to emulate the others. [i][color=ff6666]Would all military service be like this?[/color][/i] she thought to herself. Even the voice in her mind spoke meekly and submissively.