Disclaimer: Um, lets just think about this - NO!
One big long rush of emotion 'cause I'm being weird right now. Please R&R?
To Be the Best
I am the best. Not by choice, though. I was forced into this position. And now I don't see a way out. I am the best, and that's all I can live to be.
I hate it though. I hate watching the awed looks that people throw me. I hate it, because everybody that knows anything about this sport knows my name. And they either hate me, or want to be me. I don't know which is worse. I can't understand why anyone would want to be me. I don't want to be me. I exist to be the best, with barely any memories of what got me so far.
With no memories of what got me so far.
And I can't like being hated either, though I suppose it's easier. If they hate me, then they don't have to know me. And if they don't know me, then they can't hurt me. I don't want anyone to hurt me.
I'm a coward.
But I'm the best.
Amazing, really, how often those two traits coincide.
The best at blading, but fearful of living. The best at acting like I don't care, but afraid, terrified, of seeing disappointment creeping into his eyes.
Terrified of seeing my face marked an angry red, the mark shaped like his hand. People wonder about the blue markings. I only marked them that way so he couldn't. I paint them though, because I couldn't bear drawing blood. I couldn't bear marking myself permanently. Because that's what he tried to do. I'm afraid of him. And yet, I try my hardest to please him. Because I just want him to accept me. And he won't accept me unless I'm the best.
So, I've made myself the best. And I hate myself for it. I despise my very being for it. I despise him, but I love him. I need him. I need him to accept me.
So, I mark myself so he doesn't do it for me, I hide away so the world can never hurt me, I'm the best because I've nothing else for my life.
I hate being the best, but I couldn't live if I wasn't. He wouldn't let me.
Well? What y'all think? And yes, I know it's very short. Sorry bout that...