Abraham Warsaw Forsythe Peacekeeper FINISHED

I've heard people say that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger...I think that those are the people who have never experienced anything to make them believe otherwise. If you had lived my life, seen the things I have, or for that matter done the things I have you would have a much different out look on life. When I was a boy there was nothing I wished for more than the sweet release of death, and sadly it never came. I suppose this brings us full circle, I'm not dead and in a way it made me stronger to have gone through what I have...now other people wish I was dead. You see I'm living proof of that statement, I am stronger because of it, but in my line of business I have seen better people then myself crumble and die under those circumstances. Here's my story though, nothing fancy, don't know my family...hell...I don't belong anywhere, I made up my own name.

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The first things I recognized and saw in the world weren't the smiling faces of my family, that in itself has tortured me all these years. Instead I woke up in a foster home, and the first face to look into mine was some hag that ran the place. I'd say that I was well taken care of while I was there, loved and treated fairly like the rest of the kids there, that's a lie though. I have to take part of the blame with that though, I made it hard to love me, especially considering all the trouble I got myself into. I'd shove the other kids around, beat on them, in short I was just cruel to them. They didn't love me, I didn't love them so why in the world would I treat them like they were royalty. Actually, if I'm being honest, and I'm never honest, I hated the lot of them. They were always wining and complaining about their lives, how their parents had left them there because they didn't love them. I didn't even have that to complain about, my damn parents had apparently thrown me to the elements as soon as I was born.

There was no explanation for my sudden appearance on the doorstep of the foster home, not a note or a person in sight. It was amazing that I had even surivived to that point, the head of the foster home made a point in telling me that if it weren't for her I'd be dead right now. I couldn't help but think to myself "If only you had let me die instead of have to listen to your senseless prattle", but in a way I'm thankful to the hag for keeping me alive to that point. I swear she knew more than she let on about my arrival at the home though, every time I asked her about it she would avoid the questions or give me some vague answer that I could make no sense of. So naturally I began to fashion a story of my own, one that I could tell people that asked me, or spread around the foster home so I didn't feel so left out. Nothing to fancy, actually it was more foolish than anything, I was an accident child, the result of an exciting night after a party celebrating another victory for District 1 in the Games.

It was complete garbage and unbelievable, but I clung to it like it was my lifeline. I felt like if I had at least one thing to live for my life would be better. At least it explained my sudden appearance in this god forsaken place, at least in my mind. In some other minds it wasn't quite that simple though, my story was unbelievable and an attempt to get myself more attention. Of course it was true, my story was unbelievable and I did make it to get more attention...that didn't mean I liked him pointing it out. I tolerated his annoying babbling and even his attempts to draw me into a fight, is it my fault I have little tolerance for people who continue to badger me...no. So yeah, he pissed me off and I ended up snapping and hitting him, it wasn't just a little punch either I kept hitting him until he bled. That was the last day I spent at the foster home, the extent of their generosity was spent now, and my violence wouldn't be tolerated.

I was allowed to stay just long enough for me to learn that the boy had survived my assualt. Once it was clear he had infact surivived I was kicked out into the streets. I was still just a kid at that point, if my memory serves correctly I was only about seven years old. Despite my mean streak I was still just a kid, not really fit for survival on the streets at this point. As seems the natural instinct of those born to survive though I found a person...or rather persons who could keep me safe and alive. It was a little gang of guys, some of the best in the district as far as their fighting goes. I owe them everything I am today, I'm every bit the hunter and fighter that I am today because of what they taught me about survival. I wasn't content with that though, I was learning about survival, and I was learning to focus my strength properly into my assualts, but I still felt empty.

I avoided the training facilities, not wanting anything to do with the people who frequented those areas. Besides I had some difficulties to deal with the Peacekeepers since I hit the streets. It wasn't all easy to be living in District 1, by far the richest district, and have nothing to show for it. No family to turn to or pamper you, it was just me out here, left to fend for myself. When I wasn't out trying to get the necessary things for survival I was working out in the attempts to become the strongest there was. After all if I wasn't strong what was I, nothing but your average run of the mill orphan. I suppose it got me the respect I wanted, I became quite the muscular young man since I had nothing better to do then spend my day working out. That's when a new path opened up before me, the life of a Peacekeeper. It wasn't glorious or the perfect life, but it meant getting out of the life I had now and doing something that I might be remembered for. On top of that it would give me the chance to try and find my real family...and make them pay for leaving me out in the world without them.

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I was probably about fifteen when I made my first attempt at joining the Peacekeepers. It was hard to get in, I had no credentials or even the sponsorship of any of the trainers within the district to support my sign up. I was just a muscular kid intent on joining the Peacekeepers for District 1, in reality they had no reason to choose me over someone else who was better qualified for it. Never the less something made them accept me into their ranks as the newest recruit. Of course as a result my life was made a living hell because the other trainees didn't appreciate my presense. I lacked the proper amount of...well anything to support or reason out why I was here other then my own will. Because I wasn't born into this, or selected into it I was set apart as the outcast, not that it should surprise me that I was like that. All my life I had been an outcast, unwelcome in almost any environment or lifestyle...why should this be any different for me. It just solidified my belief that the people around me were no better than animals that needed to be taught who their masters were.

I didn't mind being the odd one out though, like I said, it was nothing new to be being an outcast. It just made me more determined to prove to them that I had what it took to make it in the academy. A street kid was just as competent a Peacekeeper as any of those snotty rich brats were. Infact in my mind I was more qualified for it, I had seen things they hadn't, I had lived on the streets, I had done and seen things they will probably never experience in their lives. It was a double edged blade though, I was heartless and cold, and my teachers and superior officers took note of it. The "no man left behind" idea didn't sit well with me either, my whole life it had just been about me, so changing that particular ideal was difficult...or impossible. This made the group exercises difficult for me since I never wanted to wait for my squad members to keep up. For that matter I didn't care if they even "survived" the drills, in my mind they were just collateral damage, and the main focus was completing the mission.

As time progressed I gained the reputation of being ruthless, heartless, and about as close to a criminal as one could get without actually being one. I had no love for my fellow "cadets and trainees", actually I took every opportunity to beat on them when no one was looking. My intimidation factor kept them quiet about it, and their uniforms for the most part made sure the bruises or broken skin never showed. One simple glare was enough to keep them quiet though...and I began to go from the hated street boy to the feared Peacekeeper. I sort of liked the reputation that I had now, people still didn't love me, but I didn't want their love anymore, what I really wanted from them was respect and that's what I got. When graudation finally came I was the top grad in all categories...accept for maybe the group exercises, but I can't express how little those exercises meant to me anyways. Once I graduated though I will admit, that for the first time in my life I felt a sense of accomplishment and pride. It's not like I had much to compare that moment to in my life, but I think it's safe to say that it will remain one of the greatest moments of my life.

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Throught my years as an official Peacekeeper I did very little other then wander around and perform my requested duties. It wasn't until I had been doing it for several years that I was tasked with hunting down the runaways from the districts. Apparently my ruthless and cold nature made me perfect for the job, after all, it wasn't like any of the scum that left the districts deserved any mercy. The best part of the hunt was finally finding the person and letting them struggle for a bit before bringing them in. My favorite jobs were the ones that called for the person to be brought back dead or alive. In this more modern era though that isn't allowed, all of them need to be brought back alive. I still remember the mission that got me my nice mask...my trophy. It was a runaway that wouldn't go down quietly, they had a bit of a fight in them and they dealt their fare share of damage before I finally got them in. It gave me hope that not all the people in this world are truly pathetic.

They've grown soft over the years, the Careers stuck in their routines of training and the lower districts to busy trying to get food on their tables to worry about fighting. There is nothing like street survival and the burning desire to be the best. A small part of me wonders if my parents know what I've become, that I'm now one of the more ruthless members of the Peacekeepers. I'm what is commonly refered to as "the Hunter", wandering from district to district searching for the people who have run away or are thinking about running away. Throughout my travels I will make the effort to try and ask around about my family in the hopes that maybe the start of my life was a mistake. I didn't just suddenly appear in this world, and my parents are out there somewhere. I'll hunt them to the edge of the abyss and back if I have to, I want them to know what their son has become...I want them to fear me.