I woke up with at the sound of sirens, bells and whistles. I immediately panicked and figured the cops had come and busted us. Then I remembered the “us” wasn’t who it was. The “us” was the Sunny Town bike gang. Jessie and I decided to leave it, for better things. Frankly, I only joined up with Team Rocket and the gang because of Jessie. I’d follow her to hell and back.

            Jessie woke up startled too. She scowled angrily and hit me upside my head.

            “OW! Why’d you do that for?” I whined indignantly. Oh, sure I know the answer, it’s because she thought it was my fault. I didn’t mind, but I wish Jessie could stop being so damn violent.

            “Cause, I didn’t want to be awakened!” Jessie retorted, her pretty face in a mask of rage. Then she calmed down a bit. She sighed, and stretched her body and took off her white dress, and headed for the bathroom. We’ve seen each other naked plenty of times, so it was no big deal. Anyway, she was just in her bra and panties, so no biggie.

            I got up and rotated my shoulder. It went numb from the night before, Jessie sleeping on it. I went into the kitchen and looked through the fridge. The sight of food, good food, still hadn’t lost it’s hold on me and I spent a good minute just looking at it with a smile on my face.

            I snapped out of it and picked up some eggs and the bread. I got to work scrambling them, added some salt, black pepper and a dash of milk, and fried them in a pan. Then I put the bread in the toaster and minded the eggs.

            When they were done, I dished out some for Jessie and added the toast to her plate. I scarfed down mine in one minute flat. I know how to eat better, but I still resent anything that was forced down my craw when I was younger in that place… my old home. Just thinking about it made me shudder.

            I put my plate in the sink and waited for Jessie to get out the shower. She did after a while and I rushed in. The bathroom was kind of small, but clean. It had a simple tub and shower, a toilet and a sink. The basics.

            I cleaned up in ten minutes flat and came back out to put on the recruits uniform they gave us when we were assigned our rooms. It was just a pair of white trousers, black calf length boots and a simple white short sleeve shirt with a large red R. R for Team Rocket.

            I slipped them on after putting on fresh underwear, and went to the front door, waiting for Jessie. Jessie had finished her breakfast and left the plate inside the sink. I would wash it later.

            We stepped out of our dorm, only to be bum rushed by the other recruits hurrying for wherever we were supposed to go. We simply followed them to find out where we were supposed to go. The destination turned out to be outside the dorm complex and into the larger, main building.           

            We were escorted down stairs after stairs after stairs… many people were exhausted. Us? We were barely winded. Years and years of riding bikes had left us in great shape.

            Jessie and I managed to score some seats near the front of the auditorium. The auditorium itself was humongous! It could easily and comfortably seat five hundred people. The floors had a nice mahogany wood finish. The lighting came from fluorescent lights about a hundred feet in the air. In the front was the stage and the podium. On the stage were at least tan chairs, all filled with important looking people all in Team Rocket uniforms.

            Except one.

            The only one not in the Team Rocket uniform was a tall, slim man in an expensive, custom tailored suit. His black hair was slicked back by an insane amount of hair gel, though not as much as Jessie’s. But not by that much. He sat, stroking a Meowth on his lap that I could have almost sworn was purring and speaking English at the same time.

            After all two hundred of the new recruits sat down, he stood up and focused his hardened gaze on all of us. Jessie looked at me questioningly, as if to say, “Who is this stiff?” but I shrugged. Jessie turned her attention back to the stage.

            “Good Morning, ladies and gentlemen. You are about to embark on an incredible journey, one that will most likely make you wield more power and more riches than you have ever seen in your entire life.

            “Of course, as all things, this comes with a price. You will most likely be ostracized from your family and old friends, be branded as a criminal, and you will live a life of constant danger and deception. If this life does not appeal to you, leave now. This will be your last chance.”

            At these words, many people left, in fact many from our row. There was still a majority, but not by much. To tell you the truth, I was hoping Jessie would get up and leave, so we wouldn’t have to join. I had no intention of being a criminal, but for Jessie, I would do anything.

            Giovanni smirked and muttered something about “ball-less bastards” and continued.

            “Now that we got rid of all the cowards, the next week will determine those who will stay permanently. The basic training will be the toughest, most difficult challenge of your young lives. There is a good chance that those who cannot stand will die. It does not happen very often, but it does happen. Good luck to you all. You will need it. Now I will introduce your drill instructors.”

            There was a good chance that some of us could die? I panicked for a bit, and reached out for Jessie’s hand, hoping she wouldn’t hit me. Thankfully, she seemed to have been reaching out her hand for me. I clasped her’s gratefully, a little bit of her courage rubbing off on me.

            Giovanni sat back down, and the Meowth jumped back on his lap. The tallest person on stage took his place on the stage replaced him behind the podium.

            He was a giant man around 7’5. He was nothing but pure muscle, his biceps larger than my head. He intimidated me, and probably everyone else except Giovanni. He wore a sleeveless black shirt with a red R emblazed on the front. His matching cargo pants were tucked in his military style combat boots. They shined with the customary glare that came from a spit shine.

            As if his physical stature wasn’t intimidating enough, his voice was even worse. Gravelly and not at all soothing, he spoke in decibels that are banned in airports and the surrounding area.

            “ALRIGHT, ALL YOU MAGGOTS AND PANSY WAISTS! MY NAME IS DRILL INSTRUCTOR MICHAELS! TO YOU, I AM THE CLOSET THING TO GOD YOU WILL KNOW FOR YOUR TENURE HERE,” then he stopped and put on a grin that could’ve curdled milk. Since there was no milk around, just all the males ( well mine did) felt there balls go into their stomachs, and pray to never, ever to come back out.

            “HOWEVER LONG THAT MAYBE! NOW THEN, THE REST OF YOU WILL MEET THE REST OF THE INSTRUCTORS LATER. NOW, ALL YOU PIECES OF HUMAN FILTH THAT IDENTIFY YOURSELVES AS MALES, LINE UP ON THE LEFT! AND ALL YOU SLOW RETARDS THAT CALL YOURSELVES FEMALES, GO TO THE LEFT! MOVE IT, MOVE IT!” he bellowed.

            For the second time that morning, I was shocked. Be separated from my dear Jessie? I didn’t want to go. My mind was racing; cold sweat erupted all over my body. For as long as I had known Jessie, we never have been separated. I didn’t want to leave her.

            In my panicked state, I did the only thing that came to mind. I clung to her, and balled out, “I don’t want to go! I want to stay with you Jessie! Please, don’t go!” I didn’t care what the other people were thinking or saying about me, I didn’t give a damn some of them were snickering. I was ready to fight my way into the girls’ dorms, just to stay with my Jessie.

            And I would have if she didn’t say what she said and did what she did.

            “James, c’mon. It’s only going to be for a few weeks,” she said and returned my clinging embrace. “Just keep going. For me, ok?” She looked into my eyes, and she was talking in a sweet and soothing voice that was so unlike her. At least the “public” Jessie.

            I nodded and wiped away my tears. She gave me one last departing hug and trudged off to the ladies side of the room. I shuffled over to the other side. As I looked up, I immediately realized I was the smallest and slightest of them all.

            I sighed, depression already setting in. I looked at Jessie and gave a little wave. She waved bye and a woman that looked almost as menacing as Seargent Michaels led off the ladies.

            I was already missing her.

 

 

            Team Rocket HQ isn’t just one building, contrary to public speculation. It is located in Viridian City. The main building was where you entered and where Giovanni resided. It is bordering the thick, large Viridian forest. Forest fencing, electronic sensors, and armed guards surround the other parts. In that part, the boys up in control know every pokemon and leaf in there.

            Apart from the main building are the dormitories, the training buildings and the training obstacle course, for both men and women. There are also two pokemon centers and a well equipped pokemon lab and holding area.

            For the rookies like myself, I was to be separated from the opposite sex. It was to make sure nothing that would make us ‘distracted” would interrupt with the training, even though if you did manage to meet a girl, they wouldn’t stop you. They figured, if you got past all of their guards and the fencing, maybe being “distracted” was good for you.

                        Supplies took up the entire first floor. We were led past there, as three guys gave us our things. The first guy gave us the basics: A blanket, pillow, toothbrushes, razors, bar of soap, and a couple of plastic bags.

            The second man then asked us our clothes sizes and given two pairs of sweatpants and shirts, boots and two pairs of sleeveless shirts and cargo-pants. They made sure to put my stuff down hard, trying to make me drop my load.

            The third guy was a little bit more kind, and gave us a duffel bag, a booklet, writing paper, a few envelopes and some stamps. I nodded gratefully at him.

              We were led to the training dorms for the guys. It was a five-story building, set up American military style. There were cots for the guys to sleep in, not to comfy, not to uncomfortable. They were lined up across the large room. Underneath each cot was a drawer the size of the bed where personal effects were kept.

            We piled into the room, about twenty of us per room. I dropped my stuff on a bed in the back and stretched my arms. It was good to get that load off. I sat down and began to put my stuff away in the drawer. Thankfully, they came with combination locks. A piece of paper was in the drawer with the combination and I memorized it.

            Hey, I may not seem all that smart at times, but I have a great memory.

            I ripped up the paper and placed the pillow and the blanket at the head of the bad and began to read the booklet. Apparently it was a miniature Team Rocket manifesto, and I was engrossed in the book. Not to engrossed to notice one of the larger guy standing over my bed.

            “Can I help you?” I asked politely, trying not to look scared. At fifteen I was tall, but not taller than that guy. I was around 5’8 while the guy was at 6’4. I was in good shape, but the guy looked like he ate steroids for breakfast, lunch and dinner. His black hair was set up in tall, pointy spikes. He gave me a menacing grin.

            “Yeah, this is  my bed,” he said, mocking my english accent.

            Surprisingly, anger, not fear rose up in me. “Oh, yeah? Where’s your name?” I shot back hotly.

            The guy looked surprised that I stood up to him, especially since I hadn’t budged an inch.

            “Get off of my bed, punk,” he said offensively.

            “There are plenty around here. Find one for yourself.”

            That’s when I noticed that a crowd was starting to gather around my cot, looking at the situation. I am, by nature, compliant and looking to diffuse a potentially violent situation. I guess years and years of living with Jessie being the violent brawler had led me to realize the importance of not fighting.

            But something got in me, almost like a side I never even knew I had. It scared me.

            “Alright. I’m going to give you ten seconds to get out of my bed before I kick your ass.”

            “Oh really? I didn’t even know you could count that high,” I said, a grin forming on my face. A snicker ran through the crowd.

            The guy started to sweat, realizing he was making an ass of himself in front of these people, these people who should be fearing him. He didn’t even give me the ten seconds and tried to slam his fist in my stomach.

            Out of nowhere, a foot rushed out and kicked him square in the jaw. It was my foot. The guy stumbled back, looking equally as surprised as I did. I jumped out of the bed, and put myself in one of the fighting poses Jessie taught me. She taught me how to defend myself, just in case she was never there. I never needed to put them to the test.

            Until now.

            Luckily, a drill sergeant came in, and slammed the door noisily, alerting us of his presence.

            “What in the name of all that is good and chocolaty is going on here?” he asked, sounding nothing like the person who was training some of the most elite criminals in the world. He spoke in a strong southern accent. He was an imposing man, who seemed to be both dangerous and warm. It was an odd mix. He wasn’t as puff as the other drill sergeant, but he was still more muscular than the average athlete.

            “I am Sergeant Reams. At the end of the week I will give a special prize to the guy who makes the best joke out of my name,” he said with a smile on his face.

            A few laughs and snickers erupted in the room. I was still wary of the guy who tried to attack me, but he had picked an empty cot somewhere near the door.

            “An ass whuppin’,” he finished. The laughs stopped.

            “Anyway, since it is still good and early in the morning, we will begin your basic training,” he continued, pacing the room his hands folded behind his back. As he passed by my attacker, he gave him an odd look, and as he passed me, he gave me the same. I ignored it and stayed at attention.

            “We move out now,” he said and went to the door. “All men, line up. We find out just how damn tough you are.”

            I had no clue who I was at that point, much less how tough I was.

 

 

            The obstacle course was like something out of that movie, The Renaissance Man. You know, the one with Danny DeVito. It’s ok, but nothing to write home about.

            Anyway, there was a starting line, where whoever was the person who started it sat in a tower, kind of like the ones lifeguards sit in.

            The first obstacle was a series of tires we had to run through, twenty tires long, ten tires long. After that was the first in a series of three walls that were around fifteen feet high. On the first were five ropes for people to climb up, the second only had four, and the third only had three.

            After the walls was a long monkey bar set. There were about a hundred rungs, three feet of distance from each rung. Beneath the rungs was what looked look like a wide and deep pit filled with muddy water.

            Next up were a few hurdles we had to jump over to get to three tunnels. Through the tunnels was our final goal, one large (fifteen, twenty feet in length) with just one rope. Then there was this rope we had to swing across another pit filled with muddy water to get to this large tower. To get up the tower, there were rungs you had to climb up. From there, you rappelled back down, and made a mad dash for the finish line.

            Unluckily, I made it to the first of the line, along with my antagonist from before. He scowled at me, and held his fist up menacingly. I held up my middle finger, something Jessie always used to do to people who ticked her off.

            Sergeant Reams came down the line, making people get into groups of five. I, of course had him in my group.

            “The rules are simple,” Reams said. “You get across that obstacle course as fast as you can. The winner will get all the praise and respect of his peers. The loser will get ten lashes with a whip. Get to your starting places.”

            I had no intention of coming in dead last. But I had no intention of winning either.

            Reams held up a starter gun and pointed it up in the air. “On your marks.”

            Automatically, the four in my group bent down. I didn’t.

            “Getsetgo!” he shouted and pressed the trigger.

            As soon as that trigger went down, I was off like a shot (no pun intended). Of course, my adversary had other plans. He grabbed my foot, and I fell face forward. To add insult to injury, he got his running start on my back.

            I recovered quickly, my past experiences with pain making me heal fast. But I was pissed. I ran across the tires easily, coming in fourth, some guy falling down. As we neared the walls, the guy tried to grab onto the rope. I was running at top speed already, so I caught up to him. I jumped in the air and launched a jump kick at his back.

            I hit the small of his back. A gasp of pain came from his lips and he slid down, grabbing at his back. I jumped on his head and grabbed on to the top of the wall. I pulled myself up and jumped down, my knees taking the brunt of the impact.

            I was neck and neck with the other two guys by the time I was over the second wall. We climbed over the third wall at the same time, but I was faster. I was at the monkey bars. A flash of genius came to me. I swung myself to the top and carefully started running across the bars. I had the lead now.

            I jumped off of the bars, and leapt across the hurdles. Running across garbage and trash back in the alleys of Sunny Town really paid off. The hurdles were a piece of cake where I was concerned.

The tunnels, on the other hand, were not. They were muddy, wet and had a fowl smell. I went in them and kept my belly from touching the ground.

As I emerged, I saw my nemesis was desperately trying to do what I did on the monkey bars, but had slipped and fallen into the pit beneath. I ignored it and kept going.

I traversed the last wall with little difficulty, and swung across the last pit, regaining a little bit of energy. As an after thought, I kept the rope on the side I had landed and started up the rungs. It was a lot harder than it looked. The rungs were just little wooden stumps about an inch in thickness.

As I finally got up, a stunned drill instructor helped me into one of the rappelling harnesses. I was a good two hundred stories in the air. I turned around, faced the drill instructor, swallowed my fear, gave a little wave and jumped. I plummeted backwards, and started slowing my descent after a hundred or so feet, giving myself a bad case of rope burn. I did it again, and landed firmly on my own feet. I slipped out of the harness and ran at top speed to the finishing line.

 I skidded to a stop after the finishing line to see astonished stares and a few gasps. Including from Sergeant Michaels. His jaw was dropped, and I could see every filling and every yellow tooth in his mouth.

He looked at the watch in his hand. “You sent the old record to hell and back… to hell and back…” he muttered, the quietest I had ever heard him. The funny thing was, I was barely tired.

The rest of the recruits did their turn in the obstacle course, but all throughout, Michaels kept on looking at me in disbelief.

I took that as a good sign.

 

 

            “Now, son, if you throw a punch like that, you’ll end up breaking your fist than a persons jaw,” Reams admonished to one of the recruits. We had gone into the dojo on the grounds for basic instruction in martial arts.

            The dojo was a large gym. It was divided into three parts. From the entrance, there was the boxing and training area, a large ring set up along with punching bags of various sizes and shapes outside. Jumping ropes hung from pegs along the plain walls. Light came from a few windows in the walls, and from hanging lights from the ceiling.

            The second part was the dojo itself. It was a large room, with padded floors. Hitting boards and wooden kung-fu dummies were set up along the walls. Also, weights that corresponded with different parts of the body were stored in doorless cabinets.

            The last and final part was the gymnasium. It sported various gymnasium equipment like high and low horizontal bars, high and low parallel bars, side horses, long horses, bucks, vaulting boxes, rings, springboards, and a trampoline. I liked that part the best.

            We were busy training being taught some of the basics. Me? I already knew them. In fact all of us did. The lives that we had led had forced us to know them. Practically all of us had come from gangs or broken homes.

            I was busy going along with what Reams was teaching. Apparently, Reams had been taught more than a few of the deadlier martial arts.

            “So, this is the record-breaker? You would think he could throw a harder punch,” he said, a smile on his face.

            “Well, sir, I heard somewhere when you’re shadow boxing, you shouldn’t punch full force,” I said matter-of-factly.

            He chuckled a that. “ Well, son, you are right. Folk’s mess them self’s up doing it too hard. Anyway we’re going to stop this and get down to the real good stuff.”

            He told everyone to stop and we formed a circle around him. He started to pace the circle, and started talking.

            “Ok, people. Now, I know this is only the first day of training, but I’ve seen some stuff, stuff that I’m surprised has happened already. If any two of you recruits have a problem with each other, all fighting will be done in here. This dojo. If I hear of any fighting anywhere else outside, I or any other drill sergeant will whip you. It’s simple,” he said in a calm manner.

            I hate whips. I hate them with a passion.

            He stopped pacing. “Now, those who are having a problem with someone, best raise your hand now so you could duke it out now.”

            Immediately, ten hands shot up. Reams smiled. Then he pointed at one of the largest guys there. He was the definition of beefcake. He was around 6’7, 325 pounds. He wasn’t all muscle, but it was enough.

            “Who do you have a problem with, recruit?” Reams asked with good humor.

            “Him,’ he said pointing at the poor sap who he was going to grind into powder.

            It was me.

            “Me!” I said, my voice going one note higher. I swore, I never saw that guy before in my entire life, except this morning…. he was one of the guys on my five man team.

Damn.

            “Yeah, you, you little pip-squeak. I’m going to enjoy breaking you,” he said in a low, quiet voice that gave me the shivers. He ran his head over bald head and stood up.

            “Uh, Sergeant? I have no argument with him,” I said, hoping Reams would stop this madness. I had no intention getting my nose broken. Or for that matter, any other part of my body.

            Reams smiled and beckoned for me to stand up. I got up and decided my best bet was to play possum.

            I assumed a fighting stance.

            “The rules are simple. You kick the crap out of each other, no interference, until I deem it fit,” Reams said as he led the entire class to the ring.

            I climbed in, hoping that if I got caught in the ropes, I would fall down and get knocked out. As it were, I just stumbled in.

            My opponent leap-frogged his way in, and cracked his knuckles in anticipation. I gulped, audibly. A lump in my throat formed and I couldn’t even protest.

            “Begin,” Reams said, as he stood outside the ring.

            I wanted so bad to protest. “But aren’t we going to at least get some gloves? Mouthpieces? Life insurance?” I asked pathetically.

            I got no answer as the guy advanced on me. I was smaller and faster, sure. But he was bigger and visibly stronger. I barely stood a chance to get out of this alive. As I concentrated on keeping out of the big guy’s grasp, I saw they were placing bets on me.

            Great. Just frickin’ great.

            The guy tried to end things quick and clean, throwing the hardest left handed haymaker I ever came close to getting hit. I ducked in time, feeling the wind rush over my head. I was right within his guard, so I threw as few quick jabs at his stomach. It was like hitting solid oak.

            He smiled, and tried to reach for me, but I dove between his legs, and scrambled back up to my feet. I was petrified now, and I showed it. I don’t know exactly what came over me, but I started running around the ring. It made sense at the time.

            Of course, he gave chase. So there we were, I, running like a headless chicken, balling for Jessie, while the guy just tried to get his hands on me. I shot a glance at the outside of the ring, watching the other recruits laugh at me. I didn’t care about them, but I laid eyes on Reams.

            Fight. You can do it, he mouthed at me. I know it sounds kind for corny, but for a minute, I could have sworn he saw something in me. Something no one had. I thought the man needed to get his eyes checked.

            We were doing circle after circle, when inspiration hit me. As I neared the turnbuckle, I jumped up and planted my feet on it and bounced back. I threw myself back, and did a spinning roundhouse, my momentum adding to the force of the kick. The balls of my right foot met his jaw with a satisfying thump.

            He staggered back. I took the advantage and ran and started throwing punch after punch. A right haymaker, a left uppercut, an right iron palm strike that originated somewhere around my ankles. Blood spurted from his cut lips and a bit trickled from his nose.

            I stepped back, huffing and puffing. I expected him to fall down, for I to be declared the victor.

My hesitation almost got me killed.

In the flash of a heartbeat, he threw me a grin, almost like it said, “Well, I respect you now. To bad you’re going to die.”

He threw a left jab that connected squarely with my stomach. The air rushed from my lungs, pain spreading through my stomach. Then a right hook to the side of my face. Stars clouded my vision.

As I felt my brain start to shut down, I imagined all the times Jessie used to hit me.

“You think that’s something?” a tiny voice in my head jeered at me. “Imagine what Jessie’s going to do to you when she finds out for embarrassing her!”

I shook off the stars and started to get to my feet, but then the guy threw a vicious kick to my ribs. I was thrown a few feet and hit the turnbuckle.

It became an old fashioned beat own. I once saw it happen in Sunny Town; a gang war had erupted because some rivals decided to move in on our turf. One of the members had tried to do it to one of us, but he was quickly cornered. We beat him black and blue, and sent him, literally, running for his mommy.

Now I was on the receiving end. He worked me over good, his feet, huge jackhammers really, not missing an inch. I was bleeding all over my body, an especially nasty cut on my forehead. Then something snapped in me.

“Enough!” I thundered. His foot came down again, but I caught it. Holding onto the foot, I tucked myself into a ball and rolled away from the corner, taking the guy down.

You know, I never understood people who snapped, especially that guy from the WWF, Kevin Shamrock. You know, the guy who used to “snap” and put people in that Ankle Twist? Ouch.

Well, that day, I finally understood. I snapped. And it wasn’t pretty.

As the big guy went down, I leaped up and jumped up into the air and came down on his stomach. I did it again. The first time, the air from his lungs was knocked out. The second time, I broke one of his ribs.

He tried to roll up, but I just kicked him hard in his head and he ended up on his belly. Then, I did the ankle twist. To make him scream, to make him beg for mercy… it was a feeling that I loved, that I relished.

That scared me.

I snapped back out of it and left him on the mat before I did any damage. As it was, his foot was going to be sore for a few hours; nothing a bit of ice could help. I hopped out of the ring, sore all over, blood blurring my vision.

As I started to limp back to the dormitory, Reams stopped me.

“Told you could do it,” he said cheerily.

I gave him an odd look. “What do you mean? I got my ass kicked!”

“Well, this might be the first time when you could actually say, ‘Yeah well, you should see the other guy!’” was his reply.

I wondered what kind of mental institution had Jessie got me into.

 

 

            I sat down slowly on the cafeteria bench and turned my nose up at the slop they were feeding us. It was in the evening, and I was till smarting from that afternoon. A quick trip to the nurses office had me all patched up. I suffered from a few bruised ribs, a couple of cuts, one or two – like the one on my forehead – required a few stitches. Nothing I couldn’t live with.

            I was prepared to just shovel down whatever the hell they gave me and roll up and die. Of course whoever the devil the guy who was bothering me that morning was going to let me just stay.

            The stuff they sereved us was edible, but just. I slurped it down in two minutes flat.

            I had eaten worse. Jessie once volunteered to cook one night.

            The people around the table just looked at me, wide eyed, surprised someone who even resembled a human being could eat with such gusto. I was still hungry.

            “Are you going to finish that?” I asked my neighbor. He shook his head no and pushed his bowl over to me. I thanked him and finished it off.

            I got up and put the bowl in the pile where we were supposed to put them on the counter. As I started to leave to go to my bed, the guy who’s soup I had finished stopped me. I tensed my body iin anticipation, ready to run. Or fight.

            “Hey wait man!” he yelled. I slowed to a stop.

            He was a few inches taller, around 6’0. He was kind of muscular, but more athletic than anything. His hair was kept in a longish bowl hair cut. He had green hair and dull gray eyes.

            “Hey, thanks man. For finishing of my slop. My names Dawes,” he said in greeting and thanks, sticking his hand out. I looked at it warily, but I still shook it.

            “I’m James. How are you?” I said politely.

            He looked me over and cocked an eyebrow. “You don’t trust me do you?”

            I decided the best thing to do was to be honest. “In a word… no. It’s nothing personal, but where we are, and the stuff the instructors let us get away with… it’s enough to make anybody paranoid.”

            “Tell ya what,” he said, a grin forming on his face. “ Give me a chance here. I owe you. I’ve got a few friends here. We could help you.”

            “Help me?’ I asked bewildered. At this point I had no idea what he was talking about.

            “Alright, since I owe you, and I hate owing people stuff, I’ll show you around, help you out. It’s my business to know what’s going on around me. And you my friend, need to know who your enemies are.”

I smacked my head in disbelief.  “ I have enemies already? It’s only the first day!” I wailed.

He put an arm on my shoulder and slowly led me back to the mess hall. “It gets better. Or worse. Depending on how you look at it,” he chuckled.

I sighed.

 

 

Well, that’s part 1! I’m debating if I should do part 1b in Jessie’s POV or continue in James’s POV. Someone please help me! AHHHHH!!! THE MADNESS SETS IN SO QUICKLY! Before I go entirely mad, please send comments and suggestions to shagti2@aol.com and all flames will be sent to shoveitupyour@ss.com! G’night everybody!