I wasn't a crier; never had been, never will be. The whole crying is being vulnerable, which some people say it actually mean you're being strong, was never my forte. Personally, I think it's a sorry excuse for women to internally fall for the man that felt 'confident' enough to show their emotions. Really, it's all mostly just a way to turn others on, make them feel like they are something special because you are showing all sides of yourself.

In reality, there is no point to crying about things that you can't change. Crying and showing how you're 'really vulnerable' doesn't get you squat. Action does, not moping. Even worse, when you cry, you either are ridiculed or people sympathize you. Personally, I think the later is worse.

I hate it when people go out of their way to look in your direction with that whole, 'this kid looks like a kicked puppy' expression. It really pisses me off! I mean seriously, you have no clue what I'm going through, or if I even care at all. And yet, you'll take a moment to either glance at me, or even talk to me, saying how you understand with those eyes full of pity? The ironic thing is if you truly understood, you wouldn't be pitying me. Instead, you'd probably just leave me alone, knowing that's what I really needed.

So, no, I won't cry. There's no point in doing it, and I'm pretty sure I closed off my tear ducts years ago.

"Mitchel, you alright?" The blonde girl asked.

I snapped out of my rant, pulling my gaze away from the window. Grayson was staring at me quizzically, like I was some foreign species he was supposed to analyze. The fork in my hand that was hovering above a piece of cold, slimy chicken, now picked at it as I realized I wasn't hungry.

I gave a weak feigned smile in the girl's direction, "Of course, why wouldn't I be? We're in the Taj Mahal of training bases, didn't you know?"

Looking back, my tone might've been a little harsh towards the girl, but, I mean, what kind of question is: you alright? I'd like to know anyone that was 'alright' with the mess they'd been thrown into.

Her blue eyes shimmered in a confused emotion that also held, drum-roll please, sympathy! Was I really the only person that understood how humans worked?

Unfortunately, no one was really in the joking mood. An awkward silence found its way over the table in the cafeteria, and I just couldn't handle it anymore. The slimy chicken now had an interesting pattern of holes in it, although slightly mushed around the plate. I wasn't hungry, and I definitely didn't want to socialize, so I stood up.

Of course the chair I was sitting again made a horrible protesting shriek as it skid across the floor. They all snapped their gaze up to mine, and I felt the awkwardness threaten to drown me.

"I'm going back to the bunks," I muttered, now avoiding eye contact with the others as I picked up my tray.

The girl muttered something to the brooding guy sitting next to her, and I realized that I never learned their names. But did it really matter? We'd all probably be dead anyways, so it wouldn't really matter if I knew them or not.

I heard a desperate sorry followed by footsteps.

"Oh joy! Have you decided to become my shadow now?" I snapped, directing my annoyed stare at Grayson.

I slammed the tray over the trash can just to make sure everything fell out. That's the type of conscientious person I am. I didn't want to make anymore work for those people that had to clean the trays.

I turned around to face Grayson, and I noticed the blush on his cheeks. This caused me to roll my eyes, before turning around and walking faster towards the bunks. I didn't know why I was so angry with him all of a sudden. It wasn't like he did something to personally offend me, and, yet, I was acting like a total asshole.

Well, I was already an asshole, it just came with my personality, but I never wanted to be an asshole to Grayson. But here I was, acting like an absolute brat.

"Mitchel, you hardly ate--"

"Way to go! You're observant Sherlock, why don't I give you a gold star?" My voice dripped in a poisonous sarcasm that probably shocked the boy.

I heard a frustrated groan from behind me before I felt him grab my arm. I wasn't expecting him to yank my arm so forcefully as I stumbled into his chest. Almost immediately, I pushed him away, sending a dirty scowl in his direction.

"Would you knock it off?" Grayson snapped, a vein pulsing on his neck. I knew I shouldn't have, but I suddenly felt glad seeing that I made him angry. Good, now maybe he'll grow some common sense and stay away from me.

"What do you want?" I snapped, not really wanting to hear what he had to say anyway.

"What's going on with you?" He asked, voice soft and gentle like I was some wounded animal. In that instant, I wanted to pummel him to the ground, punch him, hurt him. Why was it that whenever someone wasn't happy and full of rainbows and butterflies, people decided that they should lower their voice, soften their gaze, and try to fix everything? Last time I checked, you weren't some Fairy Godmother who could ipidy bobbidi boo all my problems away!

"What's wrong with me? What's wrong with you? We aren't even friends! Stop stalking me!" I shouted, turning on my heel.

I briefly saw his stunned face. Part of me was screaming to turn around and apologize, tell him I didn't really mean it and that I don't know how to deal with all of this, but the other part of me had this sick satisfaction that he would be gone.

It would be easier. I wouldn't have to worry about loosing control, or saying the wrong things. I could be an asshole and no one would really care. It would be easy, painless, and better for me. If I had no connections, I wouldn't have a reason to live. It would make all of this easier, because I was going to die. I already knew that, and no amount of training would change that.

"Mitchel--"

"Leave me the f*ck alone," I seethed through gritted teeth, satisfied as I watched him visibly flinch at the curse.

"If that's what you want," Grayson sighed, voice quiet and disappointed, which made my eyes blaze with a hatred that would scare my strongest enemy.

"Glad to see you finally caught on," my voice was low, dangerously threatening as I turned away from him. How he acted like he expected more from me heightened my rage. He didn't know me, and he didn't have the right to act like that. To act like he was someone I cared about, that we kept each other on each other's toes.

I hurried to the bunks and decided to blow off some steam, heading towards the showers. Of course, I had the worst luck in the world. Replaying the argument I had with Grayson in my head, my gaze was angled towards the ground instead of up. Basically, I was like every ignorant, self-centered asshole and wasn't looking where I was going. I stumbled backward when I ran into a person.

"Uhh--sorry," I said flatly, voice seeping with the left over exasperation from before.

"Mitchel, wasn't it?" Cody said, looking down at me with an amused expression in his honey eyes.

"Yeah," I sighed, a look of petulance in my eyes as I crossed my arms over my chest.

Cody laughed, "Geez, save the angst for the enemy. What crawled up you ass and died?"

"Grayson," I said, and then realized how that sounded. "Not like that--"

The man had an understanding look on his face, "Lover's quarrel?"

"No!" I said fast. "No--just met the guy. Honestly, he's like a sad puppy that follows me everywhere. He is beyond irritating."

He raised an eyebrow at me, a barely audible scoff of disbelief escaped his lips, "Um hmm."

"Yep," I said, feeling the awkward tension threatening to suffocate us. I brushed past him after muttering, "Nice talk."

Out of nowhere, Cody called out, "Mitchel!"

"Yes?" I said through gritted teeth, trying to not sound like he was inconveniencing my life.

An unreadable expression was in his eyes as he spoke softly, "Don't be so hard on him, okay? I know all of this is tough and confusing, but don't take your anger out on other people or let your fears drive you to isolation. That's how you die here."

I quirked an eyebrow, feeling more temperamental than before. However, thanks to my better judgement, I didn't say anything else. Instead, I continued into the bathroom. 

Turning on the shower head, I waited for the water to get warm. When I hopped in, I was replaying the conversation between Cody and me while messaging the shampoo into my long caramel hair. None of these people knew me, and they probably wouldn't ever get the chance. Normally, I really wouldn't care, but I found some truth in Commander Cody's words. Shockingly, I felt a little bit guilty about everything. However, I pushed the sense of regret down, knowing that if I let my feelings get in the way, all of this would be more unbearable than it already was.

Pushing people away helped me survive, not allowing them to enter my life when I knew I'd surely loose it. And that meant Grayson and I couldn't be friends. I couldn't let him be apart of the messed up horror that was me and my life. I wasn't good for him, and I'd surely poison the little faith he had left in humanity.

Besides, chances were, I'd die, and I didn't want to go into this with a group of people I cared about. I didn't want to watch as they died, my body collapsing and turning into frayed grass just like theirs with no one around to remember us. I wasn't worth remembering, that much I knew from the List. If I was, chances were I wouldn't be shipped away for the soul purpose of becoming feed for cows who were going to be slaughtered anyway.

I guess that was the way of the world; tricking living things into thinking they mattered until their lives were taken from them faster than they could even say I love you.