dominic merluccius. d4.

My mama once compared me to a pufferfish 'cause of the way I stand in front of the mirror and puff up my chest every morning. Pufferfish stick out their spines to protect themselves. I stick out my chest to be brave.

As one of the younger Careers, I still have a lot to prove, and hopefully, enough time to do so. Sometimes, I feel like I'm lost at sea, unsure of myself and what direction to take. Still, I swim - in the physical and the metaphorical sense. The water is the one place where I feel completely at ease, and I know how cliche that sounds coming from a kid from Four. Walking on land is nothing like gliding through water. I'd rather feel droplets of water still trapped in my tight curls than feel soft, dry hair. It's not an escape; I know that I'm still in Four, just four feet down. But it's the closest thing to it.

I'm an only child. I don't really mind it, even if it means all my father's expectations fall upon me. My mama isn't around anymore. She's not dead, just gone. Said she needed to find herself. I don't blame her. Whenever my father sees her around the district with other people, he always comments that at least there's no other children, and I agree. Whenever she sees me, she asks how I am. I'm still her son. I couldn't imagine what it would be like if there were another. I look more like her, too - same mouth, same nose, almost the same everything. I have my father's eyes, though, or at least something like them.

My father tells me to be great 'cause there will always be someone better. I have to be fiercer, "no puppy dog eyes", as he says I have. But I'm a pretty happy kid, what can I say? Beyond the constant pressure and all. I like to make friends and have fun - there's no rules against that. I flirt with girls sometimes, too (although I'm not that good at it, but who's telling?). I can be serious when it's time to be serious, but he can't tell the difference. I lack focus. I lack drive. But little does he know of the laser-sharp focus I get when I'm underwater. Or when I really, really put all my energy into training (I don't have much, but still). I'm not easily frightened either. Sure, I may flinch when a throwing knife goes off-course in the training center, but who wouldn't flinch when a knife comes flying at them? I can run for long distances, stare down someone in sparring (while trembling, but not as much as I used to), and I'm not scared of heights. I'm practically a victor already! I'm not just a scared kid.

I do get scared, though. But I hide it. I've seen friends hurt during training 'cause they froze. I watched a friend drown one day, in spite of all her great swimming skills, 'cause she got scared. She should've just fought through it. She should've lived. I don't even remember her name now. I force myself to forget each time I think of it. That's what courage means, sometimes. Leaving the past behind, even if it kills you. At least, that's what I've always believed. I still swim in the waters that her life dissolved in.

Sure, I'm kind of skinny, not really muscly yet, and I've got to work on my form, but I am not a coward.

I puff my chest every morning. Have since I was eight. Can't stop now, else I'll be eaten alive.