Author's Note: The wonderful cover of this book was made by @MagicPoppy of @GraphicsNation :-)

This arm is the bane of my life.

It's a common misconception that having a cybernetic arm would be "cool" and "useful," but it really isn't at all. It's like having a fully grown child strapped to your arm; it's really heavy, valuable and it's difficult to get it to do what you want. Don't you love being able to fold up your arm underneath your head when you go to sleep, maybe under your pillow to raise it up a bit? Well, when I do it, it raises my head up by about a foot, stretching my neck to unrealistic lengths and not to mention, it's made of metal. This thing makes life more difficult than you would imagine.

Then again, being in the US Military isn't all that easy, either.

I hear a loud knock at my door. The door busts open and light intrudes my apartment without my permission. I catch a glimpse of Tyrone's angry moustache before I flip over and burrow my face into the soft, white pillows.

"Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey!" Tyrone shouts.

"I'm vegetarian," I grumble, my voice cracking.

"Wakey, wakey, tofu and gourmet sadness? I don't know what y'all eat but get the hell out of bed. We've got a meeting in 10 minutes and you still ain't awake. Pull it together, man!"

"No one told me we had a-"

Tryone yanks my blanket off and pulls the cable connecting my arm and the electric socket out. My arm beeps, startling me. Tyrone walks out of my room and stops to look at me from the door frame. I swallow, ready to take whatever last words of "encouragement" Tyrone has for me.

"See you there."

To someone who's never met us, we might seem like rivals. We're actually good friends. He joined the military at the same time that I did and we met in a bar, both as drunk as we could handle without passing out. For a person who looks and sounds so angry all the time, he's real funny when he's drunk. In an attempt to get the bar tender's number, he spilled his beer all over himself and only noticed when I started soaking it up with a napkin and squeezing it into my glass. I don't know how that led to a friendship but it did, and looking back at that moment, I feel bad for the bar tender.

I close the bathroom door and change into my suit. I look at my watch. 8:55.