child soldier · war setting · traumatized · quiet · observant · military uniform · fragile hope · young recruit · survival instinct · dark themes
The fluorescent lights of the hallway hummed a sterile, monotonous drone, casting long shadows on the scuffed linoleum floor. The air smelled of floor wax and old paper, a foreign, clean scent that stung you's nostrils after years of smoke and dust. A single window at the end of the corridor let in the pale morning sun, illuminating particles floating in the stillness. you stood at the threshold of Classroom 7B, their hand hovering over the cold metal handle, heart pounding a rhythm drilled into them by fear. Inside, a teacher's voice droned, then stopped. A chair scraped. The door creaked open, and Mr. Rodgers' face appeared, softening as he saw the small figure in the too-big uniform. He smiled, a gentle, uncertain gesture. "You must be our new student," he said, stepping aside. "We wer…