Yusei Rhee D1 [Done]

[Cato]

Name: Yusei Rhee
District: 1
Age: 18
Career

Appearance:

I always try to keep my appearance crisp. Dark blonde, shaggy hair covers the top of my head falling down the sides of my face stopping just right above my ears. I keep my face clean of facial hair because I don't like the scruff, and even a tiny beard makes me feel unclean. The only hair noticeable on my face, is the dark eyebrows covering my almond shaped blue eyes. And even my eyebrows remain nice and neat. Below my eyes is a large nose. It's extremely out of place on my face. The bridge of it has a bump, and it's crooked. I wish my nose didn't exist. Tiny, pale lips sit square on my face. Sometimes the tips will curl into a smile showing off my crisp white teeth. But even those won't make up for my bony facial structure.

I'm not the skinniest person in the world, but I have very little body fat. I'm made up of muscles from my many year of training in the academy. Although some of that has gone away over the years. Various scars cover my body, yet they don't mean anything. I pride myself of them because it shows what I've overcome throughout the years. Spending time in the detention center caused me to lose a lot of weight, and I'm still recovering from it. Eating is hard because my stomach refuses a lot of food now, and I spend time vomiting it all back up. It's all about training myself over again. Learning how to eat and drink properly. I guess looking like a training dummy for the rest of my life isn't an option because recently I've shot up quite a bit in height. Standing five foot eleven inches, I almost match my dad's height now.

Personality:

Memories haunt me. When I close my eyes at night, I see their face. My mother and my father. I feel horrible that I wasn’t able to save them, but what terrifies me the most is knowing how I reacted. It was wrong of me to murder their killers. But I got what I deserved. Locked away in chains and torment for the longest amount of time knowing that every second could become my last. The fear of the men marching through the hallways leading towards my cell still lingers inside my mind. It changed me. It turned me away from everything that I had ever done. I insulted my parents memory. And that was enough torment. Knowing that I was wrong, and that I didn’t do what they would’ve wanted me to do slowly kills me on the inside.

I live a calmer life now. I don’t use my fist for actions. No, I listen when people share their stories. I listen to how they talk, and I try to allow myself to use my better judgement to make unbiased opinions. Judging people is wrong especially since I don’t know their story. It shames me knowing that I did that. I used my fists and destroyed every person in my way. I want to keep my temper calm because even the angriest of people won’t undo what has been done. It took a lot to learn that, and I’m still learning from every single day. I know what it’s like living through the pain. I wouldn’t say that the time healed the wound, but I will say my time in the detention center made me realize how precious life is.

Meditation has helped me a lot. I use it to clear my mind. To turn my emotions off, and I allow myself to become one with nature. I once thought I was a monster. A force to be reckoned with, but I’m not. I am a human being. Every person in the world is a human, and nobody deserves pain. Yet each day I’m faced with it. My past lurks behind me. It threatens to jump out of the shadows at me, and sometimes I’m not sure if I can keep it behind me. I’m afraid that one day it’ll make me return to my old life. I don’t want that. I’ve worked too hard to become the man I am today. I’ve pushed myself past the limits, and now all I want to do is help people. Helping people is the way of life because without people on my side, nothing matters because united we stand and divided we fall.

History:

I trained as a career for the longest time. I wanted the chance to shine in the games. To show the world that I am worthy of the crown given at the end of the games. I loved making people scream in pain. I loved breaking bones, and destroying people because it’s what I wanted to do. Every chance I had to watch the games, I did. I stood in the square. My favorite deaths, the slow painful ones. Each individual should suffer when the life left them. My weapon of choice? I use a sword the most because it can sever limbs from bodies, but I also enjoy maces. Bludgeoning people to death seems fun. Crushing every single one of their bones before finally bashing their skulls in was the perfect torture device. But really all I wanted was to make my parents proud.

I made friends through my brutality. I stood with them. I fought with them. I even got into wars with them. Every single night when the sun set, I snuck out of the house and went to be with them. I tormented people. Destroyed people. I was in activity that I am not proud of today. I looked for a place to go. A place where innocent citizens were lurking so me and my buddies could have some fun. And oh what fun we had listening to them scream. But one night the wars went too far. I remember running home and seeing my brother laying on the ground. His lifeless eyes stared at me, but there wasn’t any movement in his body. His heart wasn’t beating, and his lungs weren’t expanding. The house was mess. Furniture was turned over. Windows broke. Dishes strung out on the kitchen floor. But none of that was the worse of it.

I remember turning a corner and finding my mom face first on the ground with a pool of blood beneath her. I remember turning her over and staring into her eyes. Tears swam down my face because she was the world to me. I owe her my entire life, and this is how I returned a debt. I remember taking my hand and closing her eyes blocking her view of everything that was around her. But even then nothing could compare to the rage and anger I felt. I looked down the wall at a blood trail, and I chased after it like a mouse chasing cheese in a maze and in the bedroom was my dad. Someone broke into the house. They killed my family. They destroyed my entire life which was only the beginning.

It wasn’t long until I armed myself and set out on a mission to find whoever killed them. I vowed to destroy them like the destroyed my family. And finally I found them.. In a moment of rage, I murdered them like they murdered my family. I made sure they felt the same pain my parents and brother felt. I made sure their death was slow and painful. For a split second everything felt better. I was happy that they were dead until I realized their death wouldn’t bring back my family. Nothing can bring the dead back to life.

Shortly after that, I was arrested and sent to the detention center. I was tortured every single day. Their memories haunted me. I could see them lying on the ground. I could see the way they looked. The horror etched into their face. And I could see them staring at me begging me to not kill them. Everything started making sense. I finally started understanding life. Killing people doesn’t do anything except make the situation much, much worse. I ruined my life. I was a disgrace to my family’s memory because I definitely didn’t honor them. And that hurts me the most. Knowing that what I did was stupid. I acted foolishly, and I was forced to pay.

Thankfully, I was released from the detention center. I was sent back home to district one where I set out to change my life. When I got back, I started learning martial arts as a self defense class. I wanted to know how to disarm people instead of aiming to kill them. I had to learn that all lives matter despite what they may have done. The past is in the past. I can learn from it or continue making the same mistakes over and over. I know that I will fall. I know that I will make mistakes, but I don’t want to kill anyone else. I have been asked if I would change anything in the past if I could, and my answer has always remained the same; no. It’s because of my past that I am the person I am today.

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