Post by uwu on Feb 3, 2014 17:33:51 GMT -5
Cause You gotta be bigger, be faster, be stronger If your gonna survive any longer In this lifetime, it better be the right time The first time might be your last time Am I a failure if I got nothing to lose No, I'm not a failure, I got something to prove | My name is Quincy Maul, age 18 of District 1, the district of the luxury items. I stand about 5'11 inches and weigh, on average, 168 lbs. Here is my life story. Birth to Age 5: I don't remember that much during this time, but my parents and family always talked about it constantly. In the photo albums, it looked like I was pretty chubby as a baby. My parents always said that I was one of the biggest babies the doctors ever had to deliver, being 13.5 lbs. My parents, for some reason, had a sense of pride for that. For the first couple of months, my parents didn't have many chances to sleep, since I always kept them up because I slept starting midday and woke up crying in the middle of the night. They got me checked up on to make sure I was fine and didn't have anything wrong (I was their first and only child, so they didn't really know what to do). They doctors said that I was fine, and it was usual for babies to do that for a couple of months. My ability to walk came to me when I was about 2 1/2 years old. That's when I started causing havoc in the house. I never stopped walking around the house. I especially loved walking up and down the stairs for some reason. My parents got scared because if they put me down and looked away, I would walk away in the other direction. They got so worried whenever I did that, that they just bought one of those funny baby pouch things that you put on and strap the baby in it so you can keep your baby close and have less fear of losing it. They also got a baby play pen for when they had to both leave and couldn't get a baby sitter at the time. I didn't like either of those things because it caused me to be claustrophobic. I'm nearly completely better now, though. A couple of months later they tried to teach me how to talk and read, since they were major bookworms, and hoping that I would like books as well. They tried using all sorts of devices, from flash cards to picture books, but, to them, it didn't seem like anything was helping. It wasn't until a half a year later that I was able to get it, with my first word being 'sword'. They were hoping that I would be reading a lot from then on, but I didn't want to. I didn't find books that fascinating, and I still don't. Why read about adventures when you can create your own? By that point, they finally decided to send me off to daycare since they finally got the money to do it (my dad got a raise and my mom decided to get a job). I did better in the daycare for some reason. I was calm and didn't cause that much trouble. My parents didn't complain about it, though. As long as they didn't have to worry about me too much, they were fine. To me, daycare was an open space of somethingness. I could do so much more than in the playpen or at home. There were other kids. My parents didn't really know that many families that were close by who had children, so I didn't really interact with anyone my age. I was a toddler, so I didn't really care, but that was probably why I constantly ran around since I had no one to play with. At the daycare, I had no real reason to run around. They had loads of things for toddlers to do, like building blocks and small, nerf weapons. I preferred the water table for some reason. I guess it was the boats that got me. I never really understood how they could float like that. I remember vaguely trying to sink them by filling them with water out of bordom. I guess that's were I got my weird sense of 'fun'. Age 5 to age 13 My parents were vary hesitant on sending me to school when the time came along. They didn't really believe that I was 'a very calm little kid'. They wanted to, but with all that I did at home, they just couldn't accept it. After multiple long discussions with each other, they eventually sent me to school. The elementary school they sent me to was supposedly the 'best elementary school in District 1'. If they were going to give me a education, they wanted it to be the best one. I honestly hated elementary school. It was slow, boring, and painful. The school had to many stupid rules that we, the students, had to follow, like no speaking unless spoken to and always be in school uniform on school ground, no exceptions. I thought that the school itself was hard, and with the stupid rules to add, I couldn't stand it. I was tempted to run away from the school multiple times, but I became afraid of the consequences that the school teachers or headmistress might give me if I did. I honestly don't know how I survived. But through the trouble there also was pleasure. I met some of my really good friends their. In the third grade, there was this one kid named Justinian, but everyone called him Justin. Everyone thought he was weird since he dressed different from everyone else. I didn't care that he did, and I felt bad for him. I went up to him one lunch and sat next to him and started talking. I found out that we were had a lot in common with each other, and we were best friends from then on. We hung out a good deal during elementary school. Whenever we could choose a partner for something, we always chose to be together. Whenever we were at recess, we always made up crazy games just for us two, and that was where we had the most and only fun in every school day. The games we lasted until about the end of 5th grade. Our normal teacher was having a baby. She had to miss the last couple of months due to the baby, so a long term sub came. The sub was a total ass. Of course I didn't tell him, or use that term at that time, but I hated him more than I hated school, and that's saying something. I mean I couldn't stand him. He was worse than the teachers that were normally here. He wouldn't let us stretch, sniff, or make any noise. I will never understand why he chose to be a teacher, let alone a 5th grade one. Anyways, he was the one that made Justin and I stop acting like kids. He thought our games were stupid. I wanted to just ignore him, but I didn't want to get in trouble. The 6th grade was the worst grade ever for me. I wanted to get out of the stupid elementary school and go into 7th grade at the secondary school. Everything seemed better there. Every day I watched the clock ticking down until the end of the school year. I honestly don't think I learned anything that year, and the only things I remember were the end of the year party we had. It was alright. There was good music, and I think Justin and I had a pretty good time there. I enjoyed the food and games they had, like the piñata shaped like a couple of the dead tributes. I recognized some of them as former dead District 1 and 2 tributes, but there were some others that I couldn't really completely remembered them. I was really curious why they were using them. Then I was kinda wondering why we were using tribute shaped piñatas. I didn't spend to much time thinking about that since I could be doing it to an actual person sometime soon, since I turned 13 earlier in the year, making me reapable for 2 years. That was the only time I questioned why they trained us to be so violent. The rest of the times I enjoyed it. Age 13-Age 15 Middle school, in my opinion, was a million times better than elementary school. Not only were the teachers much more nicer, but that's also when I started my actual training for my games. My parents, again, were on the fence about letting me do training, since they didn't want me in the games in the first place. They were about to not let me do it at all, but I signed myself up so I could do it. Justin said it was completely worth everything, and I believed him. At first, the training and school schedules didn't clash that often. I honestly liked 7th grade. There was a bigger option of classes, and the elementary school classes could never beat them. But as my 7th grade year ended and 8th grade started, I had to make a big decision: continue school or train for the games. My parents wanted me to finish up all my school years, but I didn't listen to them. I really wanted to do well in the games. I just started not going to school at all and focusing on the training. Some of my other school friends got distant due to my choice, but I didn't care. As long as my friendship with Justin lasted, I was fine. I only needed one friend. But I nearly lost Justin. He was sparring someone, and he got knocked over really hard. He didn't fall properly for some reason and received major neck injuries and a concussion. Fortunately for him, District one has some of the best doctors in Panem. But I was scared for him, even though I knew he would make it. I guess it was just the shock of it happening to him. I learned that anything can happen to anyone, no matter how much you don't want it to. That still didn't stop me from doing stupid shit like usual. I just was a little bit more careful in training. Age 15-Age 18 Around the time I turned 15, I realized that I was nothing like my parents, and didn't want to be like them at all. No matter how hard they tried to change me by then, I would push harder to continue to be different. And they constantly tried to change me from who I am. They attempted so many times to get me back into school, to stop training. I didn't listen. Even though they didn't want me to train in the first place, they at least tried to get me to join 'the best one out there', like they always try to do to me. They wanted me to join the Jedi counsel, one of the best training academies out there. Instead, I purposefully joined the Sith academy, their enemies, their rivals. My parents hated my decision, but I knew they would. I just don't want to be the good kid they except me to be. It doesn't feel right. A year later, I got the title 'Darth' from completion of my training or something. It was probably one of the proudest moments of my life. For once, since the time I met Justin, I felt a true sense of happiness that I could never feel with my parents. I was officially part of the Sith order. My parents started yelling at me when I told them my good news. They didn't see eye to eye to me. They were angry that I was so obsessed with 'something so cruel as the Sith.' I tried explaining that a lot of kids were doing the same things at other places, and that I like doing it, but they didn't care. They were still angry about me dropping out of school I guess because they brought that up. After that, I just tuned them out, started packing my stuff, and left the house. I didn't, couldn't deal with that. That was the stick that broke the camels back. I ran away from my house to Justin's. They pleaded with me to come back, but I denied all of their pleas. After a month, they finally gave up on trying to get me back. They stopped caring about me in general. I felt a slight feeling of guilt, but quickly pushed that out. I didn't need them distracting me from doing my best, in the academy or in the games. At age 18, I continue to train with the Sith, helping others along the way with their own training. I'm more focused on the hunger games than I've ever been since I started. I don't want to ruin my chances of winning. May the odds be ever in my favor END |
Quincy Maul
Lyrics- Not Listening by Papa Roach
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