We marched reluctantly in our unfamiliar blue uniforms, two by two, across a boundary from which we could never return. The past years together burned forever in our memories. Our shared experiences changed us, shaped us, forged bonds that would never be broken.
As we slogged through the heat of the day, I felt a sharp, sudden shot in my left armpit. Eyes bravely front, I could not show my pain or surprise or risk the wrath of the leaders and witnesses. As we trudged on, I could feel the fluid running down my sleeve. I tried to staunch the flow without drawing attention to myself.
When we reached our target, all eyes were directed above, so I was able to sit down and assess the damage. Not too many drops were shed. My nearby compatriots and I were able to happily share the slightly warm, effervescent liquid before the march to receive our diplomas.