A/N: Okay, folks, I think you'll like this. Expect more Ultimates to follow (Fire, Flower, Athlete, and Comely) soon after this one. Though, I do have to write them. :) This a short Ty-piece. Hope you like.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
THE ULTIMATE
. . SECOND . .
My name is Martin. I am a seventeen-year-old male child, of Middle Eastern appearance. My face is comely enough, I suppose. I have been told time and again by my younger sister how different I seem from when I was a child, both physically and mentally.
I am different. I can feel how different I am. I am no longer as afraid as I was when I was a child. My family life is good. I go to a nice school and I have plenty of friends. I see the world through a whole different set of eyes. I am the best where I am, and it makes me feel proud. For a while, I was the leader of everything. But my sister came and she took over and I am grateful, because having that much power scares me.
She told me that I was prettier than she remembered. Imagine, my little sister telling me that I'm pretty. Though, she assured me, I was no where near as comely as my brother. She went on to explain to me how attractive he is, and how all the girls are after him. She also told me, among other things, that his eyes were among the prettiest she had ever seen. For a moment, I was nervous, but she assured me, with a knowing look in her own eyes, that mine ran a close second.
I wonder if I would want to run a close second. Having good looks isn't everything in the world. It won't get you anywhere important. Of course, if I'd ever want to be a male model, they would get me someplace fast. I'd never be a model, though, because I don't want people to recognize my face. I have too many things to hide.
When I was a child, everything was always making me nervous. I couldn't help but look out at the world and see frightening things. Also, in my schooling, I was not the best. I was in the top ten, actually, in the top six, but I was at the bottom of the list . . . it was getting shorter, and that made me nervous, also.
Now I'm not nervous. Or, at least I'm not nervous about school anymore. School is decidedly simple and I don't have much to worry about it now. Girls are what scare me now. I'm not sure how to act around them. I can't ever figure out how I want to speak to them or what I want to say to them after I get my voice to work. I guess I'll figure it out soon enough.
When there were seven of us, the bottom of that list had been rejected from the school. So you can imagine how it was with five of us, trying to keep up with the top student. Of course, we could never be as good as the top student, but it was amusing to watch as we all tried.
My sister always watched out for me. She was amazing. She was the sweetest and kindest person I can ever remember from my days at the school. I would watch her and pray to whatever deity that was out there that everyone would learn to act like her; learn to be nice to everyone else.
I wasn't the bottom of the list . . . maybe that was my other sister, but I try to protect my sister from the truth at all times. Even though I haven't seen my sister in four years, I can predict, in my mind, exactly how she would react to each and every situation you lay forth for her to overcome.
She will bulldoze across it. It is amusing, watching her glance back later at the pieces. I think that it makes my sister hard, the way she glances back and sees her mistakes. That is why I try to always look toward the future and the sunrise; that is why I am no longer afraid.
Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I am no longer enrolled in my school. I, Martin, am no longer an inmate in my personal prison, where my life was filled with fear. I learned of rejection at an early age, which led me to believe that not to be the best meant not to be at the school.
I knew that my father -- though he wasn't really my father, more like my guardian -- would be very disappointed in me if I failed the tests that I had to take. So I took them and passed, inch by inch. I would often be afraid, but that was when the top of the ladder student would slow down and stumble, to help me and the others catch up. I had the luck and unfortunate-ness to be the brother of that student.
I suppose being a quick and agile athlete kept me from going stale at my school. I speak of it as if I was the best at all things athletic; that is a lie. I had a sister who ran like the wind. Her body moved in perfect symmetry with itself when she ran. It contracted and extended like a spring when she jumped, also, making her see blurry to the eye. It also made her underwater strokes enchanting.
When you think of it, I have none of the fire, the leadership, the athletic ability, the sweetness, nor the comeliness of my siblings. I am content to come in second always, as I expect it will continue until the day of destruction of our worlds.
My name is Martin. I have thirty-nine brothers and sisters, though only five of them are living. Their names are Tyronica, the leader; Mikaele, the flower; Lezli, the fire; Frances, the athlete; and Alan, the comely.
I love them all very much and I'm very much satisfied with being second to them.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
THE ULTIMATE
. . SECOND . .
My name is Martin. I am a seventeen-year-old male child, of Middle Eastern appearance. My face is comely enough, I suppose. I have been told time and again by my younger sister how different I seem from when I was a child, both physically and mentally.
I am different. I can feel how different I am. I am no longer as afraid as I was when I was a child. My family life is good. I go to a nice school and I have plenty of friends. I see the world through a whole different set of eyes. I am the best where I am, and it makes me feel proud. For a while, I was the leader of everything. But my sister came and she took over and I am grateful, because having that much power scares me.
She told me that I was prettier than she remembered. Imagine, my little sister telling me that I'm pretty. Though, she assured me, I was no where near as comely as my brother. She went on to explain to me how attractive he is, and how all the girls are after him. She also told me, among other things, that his eyes were among the prettiest she had ever seen. For a moment, I was nervous, but she assured me, with a knowing look in her own eyes, that mine ran a close second.
I wonder if I would want to run a close second. Having good looks isn't everything in the world. It won't get you anywhere important. Of course, if I'd ever want to be a male model, they would get me someplace fast. I'd never be a model, though, because I don't want people to recognize my face. I have too many things to hide.
When I was a child, everything was always making me nervous. I couldn't help but look out at the world and see frightening things. Also, in my schooling, I was not the best. I was in the top ten, actually, in the top six, but I was at the bottom of the list . . . it was getting shorter, and that made me nervous, also.
Now I'm not nervous. Or, at least I'm not nervous about school anymore. School is decidedly simple and I don't have much to worry about it now. Girls are what scare me now. I'm not sure how to act around them. I can't ever figure out how I want to speak to them or what I want to say to them after I get my voice to work. I guess I'll figure it out soon enough.
When there were seven of us, the bottom of that list had been rejected from the school. So you can imagine how it was with five of us, trying to keep up with the top student. Of course, we could never be as good as the top student, but it was amusing to watch as we all tried.
My sister always watched out for me. She was amazing. She was the sweetest and kindest person I can ever remember from my days at the school. I would watch her and pray to whatever deity that was out there that everyone would learn to act like her; learn to be nice to everyone else.
I wasn't the bottom of the list . . . maybe that was my other sister, but I try to protect my sister from the truth at all times. Even though I haven't seen my sister in four years, I can predict, in my mind, exactly how she would react to each and every situation you lay forth for her to overcome.
She will bulldoze across it. It is amusing, watching her glance back later at the pieces. I think that it makes my sister hard, the way she glances back and sees her mistakes. That is why I try to always look toward the future and the sunrise; that is why I am no longer afraid.
Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I am no longer enrolled in my school. I, Martin, am no longer an inmate in my personal prison, where my life was filled with fear. I learned of rejection at an early age, which led me to believe that not to be the best meant not to be at the school.
I knew that my father -- though he wasn't really my father, more like my guardian -- would be very disappointed in me if I failed the tests that I had to take. So I took them and passed, inch by inch. I would often be afraid, but that was when the top of the ladder student would slow down and stumble, to help me and the others catch up. I had the luck and unfortunate-ness to be the brother of that student.
I suppose being a quick and agile athlete kept me from going stale at my school. I speak of it as if I was the best at all things athletic; that is a lie. I had a sister who ran like the wind. Her body moved in perfect symmetry with itself when she ran. It contracted and extended like a spring when she jumped, also, making her see blurry to the eye. It also made her underwater strokes enchanting.
When you think of it, I have none of the fire, the leadership, the athletic ability, the sweetness, nor the comeliness of my siblings. I am content to come in second always, as I expect it will continue until the day of destruction of our worlds.
My name is Martin. I have thirty-nine brothers and sisters, though only five of them are living. Their names are Tyronica, the leader; Mikaele, the flower; Lezli, the fire; Frances, the athlete; and Alan, the comely.
I love them all very much and I'm very much satisfied with being second to them.