It was in the face of his father did Priar truly understand the meaning of hatred. It wasn't something that happened over night, nor was it something that spawned without reason. To him, this was a long time coming, but it wasn't Priar who harbored this hate.
"Are you going to be alright honey?" Priar's mother asked, too guilty to look her son in the eye.
"I- well," he stops himself taking a breath, composing his disbelief. "I don't know Mom. I don't know what's going to happen to me" the words felt horrible to hear. Her only son's life would be at risk, and she wouldn't be able to do anything to help him. Before, this was her "worst case scenario" but now it was happening, she realized that this was a nightmare.
"He'll be fine." his dad interrupts, setting down Priar's duffle bag of essentials. "I was in ROTC when I was your age, and I don't regret a day." Priar picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder. "If your old man can do it, you can do it too, right?" he smiled, putting a comforting hand on Priar's back. What his dad had said was a complete and utter lie. He'd never spent a day of work outside the factory, and he hated the government for that fact alone. That he'd not been "given the chance" to do more with his life. With the money they'd pay him for handing Priar over, he'd finally have that chance. A startup company with his name at the forefront. It would be his dream finally coming true.
Priar was well aware of this, but to him it would be the last time in the next four years he'd see either of them. Despite their dysfunction, Priar did love them more than anything. They'd given him a shelter his whole life and taken care of him when no one else would. He'd jumped from family to family as a kid but for the first and last time he could confidently say that this place had felt like a real home.
Priar stepped forward lifting his arms to give the only man he could call a father a hug goodbye. Before Priar could get any closer, his father quickly turned him around, pushing him into the screen door, which nearly ripped apart at the sudden force. He stumbled onto their dampened porch turning back in time for the door to be slammed in his face. He'd lasted a while here, it was saddening to see another family reject him, but such was the way of an orphan.
He took a step off the porch and into the rain. The humidity in the air coating his nose in a thick musk of manure. His mom had always taken gardening seriously and the fact her plants were standing tall through weather as harsh as this was a feat he'd felt compelled to compliment. If only it were appropriate.
In the road waits a blackened vehicle, the same recruiter Priar's father had spoken to the day before. His squared jaw and rough figure clutching the handle of a navy-blue umbrella. He nodded and opened the back door of his car for the scrawny-looking teenager. Priar took his bag off of his shoulder and tossed it in. He took one last look at his home and in a nostalgic sigh, turned his back to it. Climbing in, the door was shut behind him. The recruiter settled into his seat and waited for Priar to put on his seatbelt before starting the engine. The man looked into his rear-view mirror noticing Priar's apprehension and simply asked.
"You ready?"