Alessandre Mercado - D2 {done}

I look into the mirror, studying myself. I see a pale boy-man with high cheekbones, blue eyes, a quirky mouth, and black hair worn in a choppy style. He's not very tall - only 5'8", and he's fairly thin. I weigh in at 139 lbs. It's like, when I stare long enough, like looking at a stranger, or a shell. They say you can see the soul by looking into the eyes, but I don't. I just see eyes. Granted, eyes of an arresting blue shade, but they reveal nothing of me, the me hiding under this mask. If my sum total was in my appearance, I'd be happier than I am.

Looking at me, you can't tell that though I am not the strongest person around, I'm wicked fast. Or that I excel at gymnastics. That I am best with a bow and arrow, and throwing knives: weapons of speed, considered 'girl weapons' by most of the others. My body looks like a body, my face looks like a face. I am dressed casually today, though my style varies. What I end up wearing most is a gym uniform, exercise clothes, for the obvious reason. When I do decide to go out, especially to dance and party, I wear the most stylish things we see here in D2. I like to look good, even when nobody's looking.

I am that sarcastic guy who is often seething inside and expresses himself with snarky comments. I really don't like most people, mainly because it seems like most people don't like me. I admit, that could be just paranoid alienation speaking. It's hard to tell, when it's in your head. I have worked on it a lot, but I still have a quick temper, though not nearly as bad as it used to be. I get bored really easily if I have to do something I'm not interested in. This is why I didn't do well in school; the teachers said I was bright but not working to my potential. That's fair, and true. Now I only have to train and not go to classes as well, and it's better that way. I think, because of my training, I could kill someone without hesitating. I have that inside of me now, the killer instinct. At least, I am pretty sure I do.

So, anyhow, I get angry easily, and I don't put up with being bullied, something that happened mostly when I was younger; I'd be holding a knife at some asshole's throat before he knew what'd happened after I sneaked up on him (I am quite good at being sneaky.) One guy started crying. I can understand the feeling, though I wouldn't ever admit it. The thought of actually being in the Games, let alone volunteering (as I am expected to do,) leaves me cold. It, honestly, terrifies me. I dwell on it all the time. I hope that in this last year which I am eligible, someone else will volunteer before I have to. This is my one big secret. I want to live, and I doubt I could win. I want to fall in love and have a family. I want to live a life. Maybe I could be a trainer, after this year. I want. Instead of telling everyone this, I rebel in little ways, like getting wasted on a rooftop and looking at the stars all night.

I've had crushes, but never really fallen in love; I like boys, but I don't kick pretty girls out of bed, either. Funny thing: I can find a hookup when I want one, but none of them turn into friends, or more. Maybe I'm just shallow, or hard to like, which I already mentioned. As far as my home life goes, there's not much to tell. I love my mom (I know, pathetic, the only person I've ever loved is my mother,) I just don't get along with my father when I even get to see him. I can't stand my brothers. They are twins, younger than me, just fifteen, but they are already bigger and stronger than I am. They do everything in their power to annoy me, and I return the favor. There isn't much else to tell about me, personality wise.

So, I was born to Alyssiana Mercado and Franklin Derry. My mom comes from a fairly well off family, and she wouldn't have to work if she didn't want, but she does anyhow, and she is some kind of top secret scientist - she can't talk about her work with me or anyone. My dad is older than everyone else's father; he's a retired peacekeeper. My parents divorced when I was six. I only visit my dad maybe once every couple months, and after an hour, I am ready to go back home. We don't get along; he's strict and, I think, mean. He doesn't hit me - that would be a big mistake if he ever did, but his 'advice' is rarely kind, and as for praise for the things I do right, forget it. I think I disappoint him because I look and move and take after my mom. My mom understands me, though, as much as anyone could.

I started training for the games when I was just a kid, which was my dad's idea. My mom was against it, but, being a stupid kid, I for once took my father's side, and demanded I get to train. Back then, I loved the Games, thought they were so exciting. After half a dozen temper tantrums she gave in, though she was in tears over it. I've always felt guilty about that. I kind of resent it, too, because maybe if she hadn't been so afraid then, I wouldn't be so afraid now. But mostly I love her anyhow. So anyhow, it quickly became apparent that while I could handle a sword as far as the basics go, could endurance run (although feeling like I was dying,) if I had to, but those were not strengths of mine, and I would never excel at them.

Fortunately, my trainer at the time quickly moved on to things I would be very good at: throwing knives, gymnastics, bow and arrow (though knives are my specialty,) and sprinting. I dodge well, and I am no slouch when it comes to sneak attacks. I had one good friend from the time I started training til I was fifteen, a girl named Elisabeta who was doing the same course of training I was, we were very close, and then one day she was just gone, along with her parents, and no one knew why or how. That did effect me profoundly, and I haven't tried to make a real friend since then. I hope I can get over that eventually. Her, I could have told how much the Games scare me, now. Back then they didn't, but that was because I knew I'd never be a tribute at that age.

Oh, one more thing. You can call me Alec, since 'Alessandre' is such a mouthful. It's a family name on my mom's side of the family, that's why I got named it. Anyhow, everyone calls me Alec.