Post by Juicy J on Feb 24, 2014 2:02:10 GMT
▪ g a a r a ▪ ▪ Male ▪ ▪ fifteen ▪ ▪ sand village ▪ Genin Biography Before I explain, it is important that you understand I will try to recall to the best of my fragmented recollection the events of my childhood. And in doing so I request that you do not make me specify particular names. They haunt me. I am from Sunakagure, village hidden in the sand. I'm the youngest son of the fourth Kazekage, as well as the brother to both Temari and Kankuro. I grew up rather isolated, and was raised by my uncle which I refuse to name. It hardened me in more ways than one and although it's hard to believe, I wasn't always like this. At birth I took my mother's life. And a woman who's name I cannot recall used a possession jutsu to place the Shukaku within me, because of this my father resented me, I think. The relationship between us had always been cold and calloused, and I quickly learned that I was not welcome in my own home. He was unnecessarily angry and rough with me growing up, and I feel comfortable admitting that I never did love him, not once. Outside of my home life, I had tried to fit in, but I slowly began to realize that I was always going to be pushed out of society for something I could not control. As a result of it, I grew distanced and isolated from other kids at a young age. My uncle was the only one to truly accept me, and I welcomed the feeling, I craved it. In the beginning, my uncle had a warmth which I didn't understand, but it made me quite comfortable to say the least. And although I will not mention his name, this does not mean I have forgotten it. I will never forget it. As I aged, the thing inside of me grew stronger and violent. That's when my father began to fear me as well, and he was not alone. I feared myself, and noticed that those around me did as well. I hated myself for it, and envied others who were accepted. On a cold clear night, my father explained to my uncle that I needed to be rid of. He agreed. And the cruel nature of the world set in. I remember quite vividly being distraught that night, and I remember the blood, the cursing, the scar which carved into my skin and the harsh words that passed his lips before he detonated. He had a choice. And for the life of me I cannot forget his name. I wish I would forget it, I want to forget it. I want to forget it all. I can still hear his voice in my head. He had the choice, he had the choice. It haunted me. I remember during my early adolescence I would wake, screaming. Always screaming. My head ached, and his whistled words inclined into an intense hum. I tried desperately to drown it out for years. I turned on the radio, the sink, the bath tub, but his voice still rang in my head. He had the choice. My ears pulsated, heat rushed to my neck and cheeks. I hurdled up the steps, clumsy and brutish in my movements. I rushed, galloping up the stairs and tumbling, I couldn't take his wretched chatter. I rushed into the bathroom, splashing water onto my face and heaving. With little restraint I looked into my reflection. I was a monster, and as to remind myself, I carved it into my skin. After several assassination attempts, I had grown used to having to fight to prove my place on this earth, and I grew angry. I began to exhibit strange and cruel behavior, specifically towards people and other outdoor creatures, and as I aged my behavior grew more bizarre. Other children at my school stayed away from me. I was excluded from play because I was too rough, girls were afraid of me and boys didn't understand my odd nature. I was left alone quite often with my own imagination, and slowly I could feel my mind begin to twist and turn, forming dark and hidden crevices that held such sinister desires. It was the only company I had, and it did not run from me. It fascinated me, the way it crawled, howling and licking and curling itself around me like a coiled serpent. It protected me the way I had imagined someone who cared about me would. And although I once considered it a curse, I began to admire it. I liked the way it hated. Look down on me and you will see a monster. look up at me and you will see your god. Look straight at me, and you will see yourself. |
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