'`'`Above The Be(a)st [Open]

I know who I am. But no one around here knows me. It sure is their loss though, not being able to befriend me before I get famous. When I tell them my last name however, they immediately understand. "Oh! Are you Shayde's brother? Terribly sorry for your loss ..." or "Sorry about Shayde ... He sure was a good kid." I'm already being shadowed by a ghost. And not only a ghost, but a disgraceful entity. Everyone knows me because of him, not because of myself. He isn't even coming home to give District 9 a Victor and bragging rights over all the other Districts. But I sure as hell will. These people are lucky to have me here. I could be in District 1 right now, training for them, working to honor those citizens, but instead I'm stuck here.

And if my father hadn't insisted upon coming to this dump, I would've stayed. I can't understand why he wanted to come back here either. His parents hate him for so many reasons, this place offers nothing to help with my training, and their are absolutely no pretty girls. None! How am I supposed to entertain myself? Count all the bugs here or something? This place is a dump and I hate it here. I just wish I could be back at District 1 with all my old friends, opponents.

So today, I am running. My father told me that I should take advantage of all the hills and open space by using it for running. Around here, running didn't look like any form of endurance training. In fact, nothing looks like training. all running activities or lifting or practicing trapping skills or studying plant species seemed normal. Everyone here did it - but for different reasons. For me, it was about winning. I want to beat everyone, I want to be the best. I don't want to survive, I want to thrive. All the other scumbags and hoes around here did it for work or because they want to be rebels or because they find it essential in their work. None worked towards glory - Only me.

My lungs expand with every breath I take. My hair is no longer standing as I want it to, instead it is falling onto my forehead, sticky with sweat. Although the air is crisp, I don't need my shirt; my dad suggested I get used to the cold. I have a cramp in my leg but I only need to run it off. The pain should disappear eventually. I have ran this route before and I know exactly where I am going. Everyday I make sure to run through the residential area of District 9, mostly so people can know me and recognize my dedication. Or perhaps stupidity for helping them ... I'm not sure any of them deserve it. They don't seem to be working to help District 9 rise above the rest as I am. And if they do notice me, they don't actually see me, they see him. The unworthy son of a bitch who gets praised for nothing. And what do I get in return for ail my hard work? All my dedication to them? All my years of training? That's right, I get nothing. No form of acknowledgment.

I must've been ignoring my surroundings because suddenly I'm dodging a throng of people in the Square. I guess I have been running blind with rage. I still am. I am only hoping that no one gets in my way ... I don't want to kill anyone. Yet ...