Bretonian Armed Forces Recruitment Centre (iRP)

[Stoat]

Rachel dithered outside the recruitment center. Was this really what she wanted? She thought of the look on her father's face when she'd been expelled from school. She remembered her mother's when it happened the second time, and winced. That had been five years ago. Then there had been the alcohol. Then the trip to rehab. Then the drugs, and the re-admittance to rehab. She'd reached the end of the line now. There was no way she could go back to the family. Not now. Not after ................

She shook her head. No, no more would she be the disappointment. No more would she accept the disapproval she saw in her parent's eyes on the rare occasions she saw them any more. She had nowhere else to go, she'd made sure of that. Taking a deep breath, she pushed through the door.

The room was heaving. A sea of bodies stood before her, most in their late teens or early twenties. She was confronted by a large, weathered man in uniform with sergeants stripes, who pushed through the bodies to appear in front of her.

"Afternoon miss. It's a bit........ manic in here today. You thinking of signing up?"

Rachel nodded.

"Excellent! Well, forget about talking to anyone today. Take this form, fill it in, and put in the letterbox outside and we'll be in touch. It'll save you having to mix with this lot."

She took the form and quickly retreated outside as the sergeant pushed his way back into the throng. Finding a small cafe, she sat, ordered a coffee and started to fill in the form.

Name : Rachel Furlough
Sex : Female
Age : 21
Address : Benedict's Hostel, 223 Gordon's Way, Barrowcliffe, New London.
Place of Birth: Cambridge
Height : 163cm
Weight : 159lbs
Education : n/a
Qualifications : n/a
Reason for joining the Bretonian Armed Forces :

She stopped writing. What were her reasons?

She shrugged to herself. There was only honesty that could work now. The lies never had. She started writing again

I need discipline. I need structure. I need a life. I need support. I need all the things my family never gave me. I need a new family. I need a second chance.

She sighed, fold the form, placed it into the envelope and made her way back to the recruitment centre where she posted it.

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