Darius Kudirka

As I walk home from school, the streets of Vilnius, Lithuania, bustle with activity. It's late spring, and the air is filled with the scent of blooming flowers. My father, the chief general of the Latvian Armed Forces, is in charge of building a new military base 100 kilometers away. This project, a huge military base for the German army, is supposed to help secure Europe. Everyone says it's a big deal for our small country.

At 15, I think it's good that we're contributing so much. But as I get older, doubts creep in. I don't want to crawl through forests with a gun or shoot people. The thought makes me uneasy, but I can't talk to my father about it. He's in a different world, consumed by his duties and the importance of this base.

After school, I usually head straight home, but today I decide to take a detour through the park. It's my way of clearing my head. The leaves rustle in the breeze, and I sit on a bench, watching the ducks in the pond. I wonder about my future. Finishing school is my priority. Once that's done, I'm prepared to leave Latvia if I have to. The idea of living somewhere peaceful, away from military responsibilities, appeals to me.

When I get home, my mother is in the kitchen, preparing dinner. She smiles when she sees me, but I can tell she's worried. The tension at home has been palpable since the construction began. We sit down to eat, and my father joins us later, looking exhausted but determined. He talks about the progress of the base, the strategic importance, and the upcoming inspections.

I listen quietly, nodding in the right places, but my mind drifts. I think about my friends, school, and the kind of life I want to lead. I respect my father and his dedication, but I can't help but feel disconnected from his world. The future seems uncertain, but one thing is clear: I need to find my own path, even if it leads me away from here.