Once we were all lined back up at the door, we started on a whirlwind tour. After a few turns, I was thoroughly confused and had no idea where I was. Eventually, he turned down a hallway that I had no idea if we had been to or not.

At the end of the hallway was a set of double doors. As we passed through them, I was struck with a familiar feeling. I almost felt I was back in school because we were in a cafeteria.

It was indistinguishable from any other cafeterias I had seen in my life. From the food serving area with the bland off-white walls the color of dirty white clothes to the large yellowing tiles on the ground, it all reeked of cafeteria vibes. I was right, but also so very wrong. When someone mentioned that it was a cafeteria, we were promptly informed that it was a dining facility or Defak for short, which is a pronunciation of the acronym, DFAC.

"All right, listen up, this dining facility isn't run like the cafeterias you're used to back home."

As Sergeant Michel mentioned home, a heavy weight fell into my stomach. I could remember going to school and eating in the cafeteria. Although, I couldn’t remember when the last time that happened. As the sergeant took us through all the DFAC procedures, I let my mind drift to what I could remember.

It was then that I realized I didn't know the day of the week, the month, or even what day it was. I didn’t understand how that could happen. My heart began beating faster, and my breath came in short gasps. I wasn’t sure if I knew what year it was. Sergeant Michel's voice started to sound like it was underwater. I could have been a different age altogether; I hadn't even looked in the mirror.

Shadows started to creep at the edge of my vision. Why hadn't they told me about my parents? I could feel the sweat drip off my nose. Were they dead? No one had told me anything. My legs went limp, and I fell to one knee.

Suddenly there was a face right in front of me. The girl who was sitting across from me in the White Room. I felt pressure on my shoulder, and as I looked over, I could see her arms resting on them. As I looked back and I could see her lips moving.

I could slowly make out her words. "It's okay, just breathe. It's a lot, but if you breathe, then you'll be fine."

I could barely do as she suggested, but her determined eyes and steady hand calmed me. As my vision continued to lighten, I could see everyone clustered around me looking worried, except for Sergeant Michel. He hadn't moved and looked slightly irritated.

I got back to my feet, took my place back in line and decided to focus on what Sergeant Michel was showing us. The sergeant showed us how to get food. He was right that it wasn't like a school cafeteria. There were a lot of rules to getting food. Breaking any of them would get you sent to the back of the line or your eating privileges completely removed.

Rule number one was no talking in line. Rule one was probably the hardest rule for some people to follow. Even I had trouble, and I usually like to stay as quiet as possible.

Rule two was no looking around. I might be mistaken about rule one being the hardest; if I am, this is the hardest rule. The last rule was multi-faceted and involved how we moved about while in line.

We were informed to stand straight ahead at the position of attention. When we asked what that was, we were told it would be taught a little later, but it's basically just standing still and not talking. We were also told to "shut up" and "pay attention" when we asked that question, but that wasn’t part of the instruction.

Next, we had to be at an arm's length from the person in front of us, and we couldn't move forward until they did. Once we were in the portion where food was served, we had to face the server and shuffle left or right while our food was served. After we received our food, we were to move to a table and fill up every available seat.

Once we were sitting, we had to wait until the whole table was full to be allowed to eat. At the time, no one asked what would happen if one of us decided to eat before we were allowed. We discovered that information on another day, which was a hungry day.

One of the good things about the whole process is that Sergeant Michel told us we would have our own place to eat. While he was telling us the rules, he walked our group through the line, showed us where to sit, and lectured us some more while we ate.

"This is your area and your area only. I expect you to take care of it, keep it clean, and follow all the rules while in this common area. You are not to sit anywhere else or intermix with the other groups. As I just said, this is a common area, and you will see other groups.

"Perhaps later in your training and education, you might receive more privileges. For now, the rules are ironclad, and there will always be someone here to enforce them." He looked around at everyone for a moment. "Alright, times up."

We barely had any time to eat, only a couple of minutes. I was barely halfway done with my food when he told us to get up and throw it all away.

"Now!" He yelled.

"But sir-" it was the small girl who had been next to my bed, I still didn't know her name, but she was abruptly cut off. Her plate didn't look as if she had eaten anything yet.

"My name is Sergeant Michel, and you will address me as such, or did I not make myself clear?" The girl was stunned and just stared at Sergeant Michel, unsure of what to do next. "Well, yes or no? Did I make myself clear?" He said a little louder.

"Yes, sir." Was the girl's meek response.

"SERGEANT!" He yelled. "Obviously, I did NOT make myself clear. Now say 'yes, sergeant'".

"Yes, sergeant."

"Louder."

"Yes, sergeant." The girls squeaked, albeit a little louder.

Sergeant Michel slammed his hand down on the table and yelled, "LOUDER!"

"YES, SERGEANT!" She half yelled and half sobbed.

"Everyone, SAY IT!" He looked at the entire table.

"YES, SERGEANT!" We all yelled in unison.

"Good," he said, his demeanor flipping like a coin.

I would have thought I just hallucinated everything that happened if I hadn't still felt an ache in my jaw from a few hours earlier. Sergeant Michel was hard to understand. He was calm and seemed even-tempered. However, he had just shown how quickly he could get angry. I knew, personally, that I felt like I was starving, but after his outburst, I wasn't going to say anything.

"Now, everyone, pick up your trays and let's go. It's not my fault you eat slowly. But, just how you learned to address me properly, soon you'll learn to eat quicker."

We all got up and deposited our trays into a conveyer belt that took them back into the kitchen to presumably be cleaned and reused.

"Don't worry," he said after a few of us were caught trying to take a peek into the kitchen, "you'll all get a chance to see what is back there once it is your turn for K.P., which is kitchen patrol."

He took us out of the mess hall through a different doorway than the one we came through and continued to give us a tour. After we turned a couple of corners, Sergeant Michel abruptly stopped us and ushered us to a smaller hallway that quickly dead-ended at a door with the word janitor stenciled. He was calm and talking in a smooth monotone like he did when he first entered the white room and looked even more tired than before.

"Look, kids, I'm sorry for what I did in the mess hall. You all just need to know that there’s a time and place for everything. Certain expectations have to be adhered to for you and me too." He paused, looked down the hallway quickly, and ran his hand through his hair.

"So, the gist is, if you don't want to be yelled at and punished constantly, you have to learn the rules quickly and follow them without question." He waited until a few of us nodded in agreement before adding, "If that happens, then we can really reap the benefits of it."

After he was sure we all understood, he continued the tour. While walking around, he told us that we would have classes but that it won't be like when we were in school.

"This is not a school," he said, "but I don't want you to think of this place as a prison. We, the cadre, treat this as a military school and want you kids to do the same. In military schools, there are all diverse types of kids, some are here because of family tradition, and others are here as a last solution for troubled youth."

He mentioned that while some of us did hurt other people, it was an accident and that we just needed the discipline to learn control over our abilities. Also, since they were military, and this was a military base, we would be treated like soldiers or treated as prisoners from now on.

"You kids will have the best instructors and learn everything we know about being soldiers. Everyone here is a soldier; it's our profession and passion, and no better people can teach you the art of discipline.

"Every soldier here volunteered for the assignment because they wanted to help you make smart decisions in the world. We all want you to be intelligent when you get released. You kids might not know this, but you’ll find out that the world is already very different than it was just a short time ago, and it's still changing.

"When is that?" I asked before I could think better of it.

"When is what?" Sergeant Michel replied.

"When will we be released?"

"That depends when you and the world are ready," he said vaguely.