truculent.

2. Ice

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Being who he was, even as a child, he was bullied. Bullied by his friends, teachers even, brothers, and forever always, his mother. She blamed him for what happened to his father. He died, really, he was murdered, supposedly, because of the boy. He was sad, because of his mothers words; desperate for affection, love. By anyone, really. His father was his only hope, his pride, his hero, and he died when he was a just  a small child. How could he feel if the wrong guilt was built onto his shoulders by his foul, soulless mother? She beat him, threw nasty words at him, that later, his brothers used, and threw him out in the rain to freeze. She burned him, spanked him, dug her nails into his skin until he bleed, but no matter what she did, he healed perfectly. No scar remained, only the thought and memory. No pain was felt, if he didn't think about it, no bruises or scratches left on his skin to prove what happened to him behind doors. She did these things almost every single day to him, as he grew older, his brothers, friends even began to torture him. Along with everyone at his school.

He had lived that way his whole life, even when his father was alive, with his demented mother, he was never safe.

He was waiting for the day, the day he turned seventeen to enter. He could only enter at seventeen, into the cruel, long training. It was worth it, he would be away from his mothers, his brothers, his so called friends. The stares, pointing, and whispers about him. That day, would be the best day of his life, besides the day he met the person who he loved, but that day had long so passed, he knew who he loved, yet he couldn't have her. He was lost in the sight of her, walking by everyday in school, or seeing her in class. He knew where she wondered to at lunch. He knew her secret, but he never told anyone about them. He was a very secretive, quite boy.

Once that day came when he turned seventeen, he was so excited. Kids usually were so joy filled, telling everyone how old they were or that is was their birthday, but he didn't. Like anyone really cared. He mumbled through classes, excusing himself from school early to head over to the place. He never told his family, they already knew. The principle let him go, being what he was, he needed to stay protected.

"You are a sweet boy, you need to be safe. Away from all this nonsense you pick up on everyday. Get some better training in you. I'm proud you're going. Stay strong, my boy. You'll make it big." He said. The boy smiled his bright teeth off, ones girls adored, but were to scared to step close to, being who he was. Everyone was afraid, and when he wrestled, even the strongest of boys were afraid of what he could do if he got angry. And when he got angry, he always took it to himself.

His fathers old working boots took him to the old, but young looking, glass building he needed to be at six o'clock P.M. He had been roaming around District Twelve until the right time for going. He filled the one paper he needed once he entered the building, took pictures of his markings, and walked in for testimony. Two other boys his age were there, all being born on the same day and ready to be with the others of their kind, if they were up to it. The older, more responsible and trained men looked them up and down as they walked into the room to watch the new pupils go through this new, and their first day of testimonies, their first test, beginning of training. The three boys eyed each other, wondering what they would encounter in the next three hours. One hour, or less if they pass quickly, for each boy, they must face something horrifying to pass the first test.

Here walks in the main commander, the man who will torture the three seventeen year old boys standing in front of him. He was short and small in size, unlike the others who had arms wide and strong as their heads, with tattoos spiralling around them. While the man covered up in a midnight blue suit, the others wore grey or black tank tops and loose jeans. Some were bald, some had long hair, some had fuzz and some had a normal man hair cut. The boys worried if they would have to cut off their hair for a test, but they had no time to worry about it any longer.