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No, I didn’t have a normal childhood. Mom also pushed me to become… who knows what she wanted me to be.
Dad trained me to be a warrior, but my mother didn’t want that. She fought back by hiring tutors who shaped me intellectually instead.
She probably wanted me to become a scientist of sorts. Thanks to her, I speak seven languages, play two instruments—badly—and finished college before turning eighteen.
Numbers are my best friends.
I can solve mathematical problems within minutes. I’m good at programming—computers are my first language. It’s to no one’s surprise that I know how to shoot or throw a knife at a certain angle to hit my target.
Everything I am, I owe it to my parents and their pathetic divorce. They called it quits before I was a year old. I assume it wasn’t amicable since they continue fighting every chance they get. I’m their pawn in this ridiculous war. My parents ensured I didn’t enjoy my childhood.
There are advantages to being raised as, what I like to call, a future super-soldier.
At sixteen, I developed my first video game. Dad helped me sell it and afterward create a company. I could’ve emancipated myself and put a stop to my parents’ feud, but I didn’t. Instead, I chose to move in with my father so I could finish my training.
War doesn’t intrigue me, but security consulting and protection do. I want to do what special forces do, but with more liberty and under my rules using my resources.
I want to learn how to infiltrate a place, be almost invisible, and capture a drug lord, human trafficker, or even a dictator.
One day, I’ll set up a company that can work cases governments can’t because of the political implications. It’s a different way to fight battles and create a better world. Dad doesn’t think I can do it, but he humors me by training me and letting me join when he’s working cases.
However, there are days like today that I’m about to get on his last nerve. It’s time to either retreat or listen to him and stay frozen while we observe.
“Mason, I don’t understand what you’re trying to do. You’re a successful software engineer. You could build an empire with your knowledge.”
“Or I could save lives if I combine my training with said knowledge.”
He shakes his head, exasperated. “Sometimes, you can’t have everything, and you need to make a choice.”
I almost laugh. Neither he nor my mother gave me a chance to pick one thing. I had to do it all to please them. Now that I want to combine everything I learned, he wants me to choose. Not only that, but he wants me to take on the one thing he didn’t teach me.
Oh, the irony.
“Why can’t you trust me? If you could do it all over again, I bet you’d have another child. A son who can be better than me and carry the Bradley name, unlike me.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You don’t think I’m capable of doing shit.”
“But what if you die?”
I grunt. Is he kidding me? “Everyone dies. I could slip while crossing the street, hit my head on the asphalt, and die of brain damage.”
I could bring up my epilepsy, but I don’t because it’s controlled with medication, and I haven’t had a seizure since I was ten. It’s the same with my asthma.
“You were a soldier. You still work protecting others. Why wouldn’t you want me to follow in your footsteps?” I almost pull out my hair in desperation.
It’s hard to understand my father. More so when he’s so quiet and the only times he speaks is to judge me. It’s not like I want him to chat like my mother, but could he just be a little more open to communication and receptive to what I need? I guess that’s the only trait my parents share.
They don’t give a fucking shit about what I want or need.
He huffs. “It was a different time. I wasn’t good at school. My parents didn’t have money to pay for my college education. It made sense that I enlist. My family worried about me. I didn’t understand until I got to see mothers, fathers, wives, and children cry when they lost a loved one. You’re my only child. It’d kill me if I lost you.”
“I’ve heard you say that you can’t live in fear. And yet, you’re projecting your apprehension upon me.”
“One day, when you have children, you’ll understand.”
“Well, I’m going to do this, so either you support me and train me well—so I don’t die—or I’ll do it on my own.”
