truculent.

7. Sword

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Cato, the beautiful blond haired boy who was loved by everyone, but his family.

Cato, as of the age of newborn, was despised by his whole family. His older sister always thought he was the lowest of lows, his parents expected more of him every time he did something good. His mother wanted another daughter for she feared and never wanted a son who was indeed Truculent. His father hated him for getting the family gene that came from Cato's mother's side. Everyone who knew Cato loved him, he was adorable as a child and the top in his class grade. He would share whatever he had with anyone and help others up when they fell. He was such an angel, although his Markings grew on his arms, no one feared him. His family slowly began to deteriorate his self-esteem, they all hated him and so he began to hate everyone else.

Cato grew up in an abusive household, getting hit every day for a list of the littlest of things he did or did not do. He had to set out something of his own to pick on when his anger became too much to hide. He once even his hit sister when she was telling him something horrible to hear. Cato would bully other kids in school, younger kids who were more vulnerable to the words he uttered, to the pain and forced he put into his punches. He was much like Katniss as a child, protective of his feelings and violent when forced upon.

It became unbearable to Cato when he was sixteen. He still had to wait a whole year to get into the Justice Building, but he was so tired of waiting. He would forget about the kids he picked on some days at school when his thoughts filled him in on how good life would be to be there, with dozens of other men like him. Men he would be proud to call friends, men who wouldn't treat him like dirt.

He would miss girls, he would miss girls a lot.

Cato had one steady girlfriend for almost a year, but it all went downhill before he left.

Cato ran away from home, dropped out of school, dumped his girlfriend and gotten into the Justice Building all in the same day. Let me explain.

The abuse at home had been getting severely intense before he left. His father wasn't just hitting Cato when he came home drunk from the bar, he would hit his mother, then his sister with his leather belt or his dirty hand. Those times when they were getting punished for nothing was the only time they needed Cato, the only time Cato helped anyone anymore. He stood up for them, took their hits, and took his father out in seconds. They would thank him, but go back to their old ways of hatred just the next day. It was pointless to try and please them. He gave up trying years ago, and never pleased them anyway.

Cato had recently heard a rumor that his girlfriend was caught cheating on him with another boy two years older than him, and he wasn't Truculent, making out behind an abandoned ware house by the fence. He pulled her out of class the day before he left to ask her if it was true. She told him the truth, cried about it, and begged him for forgiveness. She was afraid of what he would do to her if she kept it a secret and he found out the wrong way. She was right to be afraid. He slapped her and ditched the rest of the day, staying by the edge of the district.

The day of finding out his girlfriend cheated on him and his father coming home to torture not just him but the rest of his family, he packed the little clothes he had, stole some food from the cabinets in the kitchen, and two blankets from his room, stuffing all of the things he needed in a plastic bag and left. He even took the little money his mother kept secret in her drawer to at least have something in case of an emergency. Cato stayed in a room on the sixth floor of an abandoned warehouse for the night, sleeping without one of the blankets because it was fresh that spring evening. In the morning, he tracked down his girlfriend, told her it was over, and never saw her again.

He grabbed his things from the warehouse and stared moving. He traveled through the illegal forest to Seven from Two, his home district, until he could walk no further. That took him all day. By night fall, he set his things behind a dumpster of a bar, and walked in. He kept his face low and jacket collar up, hoping no one would see his Marks. Thankfully, the bartender did not ask him his age when he ordered a beer, and was Truculent himself. Cato saw the tip of a black line on the back of his hand when his sleeve brushed up, the man pulled it down quickly and left Cato to his beer. Once he was finished, he was about to order another one when someone said,