Where to start!? I guess the beginning is always the best place, but where does this tale truly begin? When we were young? When I left for Bootcamp? The day I got back? Who knows really!?
I was always close with my younger sister, she was the reason why I chose the military over college. I decided to join the Marines because of my family situation. Everyone always says they do it for the fact that they want to protect their country, they want to take care of those that can't take care of themselves... To me I had one reason, MONEY! I needed it badly.
More accurately we needed it badly. I grew up the oldest of two children in a broken home. The money was always tight and so were our nerves. My mother sweated her days away in a dry cleaners for little to no cash 6 days a week. She worked harder than anyone I had ever met. My father split when I was too young to remember. Needless to say I had to work.
I got a job doing lawn care through a friend of my mom's. He was a good guy and owned his own company so he turned his head once in a while if he saw me doing something I shouldn't, like smoking underage, swearing when I busted my knuckles... Little things like that. My mom also would turn her head to these kinds of things as long as my grades stayed good and my work record spoke for itself.
Not many people could call me out about work. I worked all summer long while friends went on vacation and even gritted my teeth as girl friend after girlfriend would leave because I would have to work late. Needless to say I was not living a "Charmed" life. I was content enough though. I had more money than most kids my age and even though I gave half of my check up for rent I was still able to buy my own video games and such. With the winter season I worked doing little things like snow removal for people.
My sister did all the house work... She had a lot to keep up with, laundry, dishes, cleaning the carpets and the bedrooms. I paid her 40 a month to do my room for me once a week so she could have some spending money. This was my little way of showing that I cared because all to often my temper would get the better of me.
I never got violent but oh I could get loud. When I reached my senior year in high school however I knew that mowing lawns was not what I wanted to do all of my life. So... I talked to the recruiter, passed my physicals, did all the little tests. Scored pretty decently on the ASVAB and got a 93... this let me pick pretty much whatever job I wanted. I knew in my heart there was only two options for me though. Diesel mechanic or Rifleman. I chose the latter of the two given the fact that I always had a fascination with rifles and especially military grade rifles.
Upon graduating high school and saying good bye to all of my friends and family, I left for Parris Island South Carolina. I have so many things I could say about Boot Camp, primarily that I loved it and would go through it again ANYTIME! Also, I would recommend anyone that has half the temper that I had to go through it. I learned how to control my anger, be calmer, more relaxed... I learned how to be a man. Instead of getting angry at little things I let them slide and instead of being so short fused I learned that the best way to deal with things was to just relax and let them simmer before approaching them again.
I remember how this particular event started... I had just put my bags down in the entry to my mom and sisters little two bedroom apartment. I would only be back for about 2 weeks and decided to stay at home and spend the time with them. We had an impromptu family meeting and it was decided that I would take the couch and leave my clothes in the closet in my sisters room. My sister and mom got to keep their privacy and I got to keep a bit of a sense of normalcy. Get used to not being ready for a Drill Instructor to jump down my throat.
The first two days were a bit rough at home. I won't deny it. I missed Boot Camp sorely. I tried to just explain it away but I couldn't. The lights in the kitchen would come on at 5 am when my mother would make her morning cup of coffee and I was instantly awake. Not a sound had been made and I was already up and going. It was an instinct.
My mom would leave for work around 6 or 630 am and from then until the time she got home around 430 pm I was alone in the house with my sister.
My sister is a bit shorter than me at 5'6 but god she looks good. She had just turned 18. That wasn't even something I dared to argue about. She had short brown hair with blonde highlights, a perky set of C tits. Nipples that would poke through her shirt if she didn't have a good bra on. Her legs were always my favorite looking back. She had long gorgeous legs. Just because I could describe my sister to you like this doesn't mean that I had held sexual feelings towards her. I just looked at her and knew that she was a lot better looking than me. I was just your average built guy up till I got back from boot camp.
I had a decent build from working in a strenuous physical job. I had always been in okay shape but she was always the one that had a better look to her. Maybe it was the clothes I wore, who knows?
