Project Venom #Watty's2016

The letter felt like a slap to the face. Five days. Five days until I shipped out for Navy basic, and now… 'honorably discharged for [Redacted] reasons.' A year of grinding, gone.

"You gotta be kidding me!" I roared, the official letter crumpling in my fist.

Mom’s voice floated in from the kitchen, "Watch the mouth!"

I stormed into the dining room, tossing the offending paper onto the table. "Come read this crap the Department of the Navy just sent me!"

Mom, spoon in hand, came in, her brow furrowed. She picked it up, read it, and for a long moment, silence stretched between us. "Oh honey," she finally said, her voice soft.

I sighed, staring at the ceiling. "A year… a year I worked. Five days, Mom. Five days. Now this." My gaze drifted to the fridge. "Any pizza left from last night? I think I'mma go out for a while."

She nodded. "I think so. Where are you going?"

"My friend Tristan's in Victoria for an audio show," I said, pulling out a green-lidded container with a few pieces of homemade pizza. "I think I'mma go talk to him."

Mom didn't reply. I went to my room, pulled on socks and my Sketchers, grabbed my keys, and headed for the liquid blue, 2016 Honda Civic sitting in the driveway. The engine, a Frankenstein's monster of a Nissan V6 with a massive Cummins turbo, rumbled to life, a deep, raspy growl that was all my own.

“Okay people,” I said to the GoPro on my dash, “I get it, you comment every week, you wanna see the Civic, so here’s the Civic. We're turning 510 Front Wheel Horsepower. Shall we?”

With a grin, I put the car in first and pulled out of the driveway, ready to outrun my disappointment on the open road.