[ WP ] There is a story behind every tattoo . Tell me a story .

Across the left side of his chest was a black bar. It was as if someone had taken a large black marker and stroked it on his chest. I know that it is impolite but I could not help but ask. 
 
 He introduces himself after I did the same. With the formalities out of the way I cut to the chase, 
 
 `` Would you mind telling me about the tattoo on your chest? I know it is rude but it is just so bold and out of the norm, even for tattoos.'' 
 
 `` Well normally I would n't but you have been really polite about it so I guess there is little harm. Once I am done you will not be able to tell anyone else, understand?'' 
 
 I am hesitant because of the tone he took but now my curiosity is truly piqued. 
 
 `` That is fine. Who would I tell anyway?'' 
 
 `` Well it is a bit of a long story but here it goes... I was 18 when 9/11 happened. I came from a military town of sorts. More than ten percent of my high school joined up after graduation. I got lucky and got into a military academy. While I was there my parents...'' He paused for a moment like he was trying to find a particular way to describe it. `` My parents split up. My mom left and never came back. My dad was already often busy with work leaving me on my own. My first time home from the academy I spent in a drunken stupor.'' He sighs and his head dips slightly before continuing. `` It just fucking broke me. Once back at the academy I kept drinking. Every leave I wasted away in bars while the glasses piled up around me. Slowly my demerits built up until I was finally kicked out. Even after that I kept drinking as my life fell apart around me. At this point I had not seen my mom in over a year, my dad had become a ghost, my sister was going to West Point, and all my friends were at college themselves. It was just me and booze. 
 
 Then I got my DUI. 
 
 That was a bit of a come to jesus moment for me. I had wanted to be in the military for as long as I could remember but now that dream was almost entirely thrown away. I had spent my whole life preparing for it so I had nothing else. So I got ahold of myself. All the time I spent drinking I put into training. I needed to do a ton of community service to offset the demerits I had earned but I was eventually allowed back. I could not recover my grades from my first year but I could recover myself. 
 
 I joined the army and went to basic shortly thereafter. I then proved myself enough to get an opportunity to go to Ranger School. Physically Ranger School was the hardest thing I had ever done but when your mind and body have been broken before you know how far you can push. This allowed me to power through to the top of my class. 
 
 From there it was off to Afghanistan. I made it clear to everyone I wanted to go further. When I was little I dreamed of Delta Force. The elites among the elites. I took the placement tests and got a high enough score to be considered. Eventually I got the call.'' 
 
 I kinda shifted uncomfortably as we walk together through the park. I am coming to realize that this man is highly trained and could be very dangerous. But he also had a lot of vulnerability pushing him. 
 
 `` The black helicopters are real... Not real in the way that they hide aliens and stuff but real in that at any moment I could get a call to be swept off to some foreign land. I got the tattoo because my life became this black mark. If you look at my personal records almost everything is redacted. If anything I have done is declassified my name will be absent. Like my mom I have disappeared, like my dad I am a ghost.'' 
 
 He stopped walking and leaned against the wall of a nearby building. His eyes unfocused. I feel like he is staring through me into the abyss. 
 
 `` So few people know what it means to be no one. To be nothing. When I die it will be like I never existed. My body will lay in some far flung country and my nation will take no claim.'' 
 
 His eyes refocus and he looks at me but it still feels like he is somehow looking through me. Deeper into me than anyone I have ever known. 
 
 `` I am sorry for laying this all out onto you. I am sure you never expected this. Would you mind if I share one more secret?'' 
 
 `` Of course not!'' I respond impulsively. I feel like I have known him forever at this point and yet it had been only minutes. 
 
 `` We need some privacy if you would n't mind. The restroom here would be good enough. I just need to get this off my chest and I do n't think I have ever told anyone. I am sorry for this.'' 
 
 `` It's no problem, I am glad to be here for you.'' This is the most human connect I had had in a while. I truly am glad to be able to be there for him. My friends are mostly online. I have never been a supporter of the military or government, in fact I have been openly antagonistic, but this human connection seemed to overcome that history. 
 
 We enter the restroom and he glances around to make sure it was empty before locking the door. 
 
 He turns to me and his face drops. 
 
 `` We know what you have been up to.'' 
 
 Before I can even think I feel his hands around my throat. The back of my head smashes into the wall, then a sink, and finally the floor. All of his weight is baring down on me. My eyes well with tears but behind his is nothing but force and death. 
 
 It takes longer than I would have thought and I struggle as much as possible but he has done this before. He knows exactly what to look for. 
 
 When he finishes he produces a picture from his pocket and holds it next to my face while taking a picture using his phone. He produces a small swab and takes a sample from my cheek. Clinical confirmation. Ever the professional. Nothing like the broken boy he once was.
