Aster Vilanelle, District 12 (Finished!)

I know I'm not a bad looking guy. In fact, I know I'm pretty good-looking. People have been telling me so for my entire life, and I know how to use it to my advantage. My skin is a golden brown from working in the sun for so long, my eyes an unmistakable green. My hair is kept relatively short, but not so short that you don't see a hint of a curl at the ends. I'm of decent build, six foot even and have muscles that are visible through any tight fitting shirt. I'm strong, but not exceptionally. I was blessed with full lips and perfect teeth, despite my family's lack of dental care availability. My jaw is defined, my ears are proportional. Outwardly, to the visible eye, I'm not a bad looking guy.

I see flaws in myself that have never been recognized by anyone else. My shoulders aren't wide enough to be considered proportional to the rest of my body. I get scatterings of acne across my hairline - not horrible, but enough to drive me nearly insane. My hands are small, for a six foot man at least. They could still easily overpower that of any girl, but it's a noticeable trait when I examine myself. However, I have to give myself credit. Growing up in a family that bathes once every few weeks, doesn't own a hairbrush of any sort, and can't afford to <i>buy</i> anything to enhance appearance, I have to say I'm doing pretty well.

Depending on who you ask, I could be described a million different ways. I'll tell you honestly that I have no idea what to tell people about myself, I never do. I lie, I cheat, I steal. But no one knows that. I lure the unsuspecting and beautiful girls of District 12 into my bed without thinking twice about it, only leaving them with heartbreak and disgust for me that always fades away with time. I'm charming, that's for sure. But it's a carefully calculated, tricky type of charming that no one sees coming. The only thing I know for sure about myself is that family is the most important thing in my life. And by family, I mostly mean my baby sister.

I know that she looks up to me, thinks the world of me, and would challenge anyone who says otherwise. Just as I would do the same for her. The difference though, is that she is as pure in mind as an angel, and I am just the opposite. The only time I can honestly say I feel any trace of sadness, of hurt, is when I know she's hurting as well. And the thought of her finding out that I'm a fraud nearly kills me inside. Even with all of the young women I've tempted into my bed, I've never cared for any of them enough to hold onto them for any length of time, physically or emotionally. But in my sister I see something different, a kind of innocence that can never be taken away, something that she doesn't even see in herself.

Love is a feeling that I've only ever felt towards that one person - my sister. However, I know it's been showered upon me in the hopes of reciprocation. By various women, my siblings, and my father. My father. The man who has been about as much help to us as a rock. Ever since my older brother turned twelve, old enough to start working and collecting tesserae, my father has nearly faded from our lives completely. Gradually, he has become nearly silent, only bothering to respond with nods and shakes of his head. Like he is incapable of words. His affections are only ever apparent through the looks in his eyes, the softening in his expression when my brother and I bring food home. But perhaps that love is only towards the food on the table, for he never graces my sister Camellia with that same look, though she deserves it the most.

My brother and I are close, but not affectionate. We provide each other with clever, friendly banter while we gather food for the family, but beyond that, we keep our distances. We never have been and never will be close to each other in the way that Camellia and I are. I'll never confess to him things that I can to Camellia and Camellia alone. Even though even she doesn't know the depths of my wrongdoings either. She could never.

Growing up in District 12 made my siblings and I stronger than most. Stronger in mind and stronger in heart. Our mother left us when I was only four, I can barely remember her. I imagine she was beautiful, as she produced some fine offspring, and my father isn't much of a looker with his blonde-red hair and deep set, black eyes. I can only remember bits and pieces of my life when my mother was still around, but one thing I remember the most is watching my mother sew. District 12 isn't known for textile, so it was always hard for her to get a hold of materials for sewing, but when she did, it was as if she was in another world. In hours, she could make a quilt, an entire outfit unlike anything anyone else in the town had. It was beautiful, just like her. Watching Camellia grow up with the same ability has been the most fulfilling part of my life so far and knowing that I taught her how fills me with joy.

When my father stopped taking part in being a member of the family, my older brother taught me to bargain with the other citizens and get the best deal on the little we had to exchange for it. He never had much of a hand in bartering, because as soon as I was old enough to know how, I poured on the charm, talking the baker into giving us extra bread, getting more fruit from the vender, and just reaping in the benefits of being a handsome young man. But deep down, I knew it would never be enough to feed four hungry people. So I started stealing, lying, cheating. Anything to keep bread on the table and watch Camellia's eyes widen with wonder when I bring in a full meal. And also watch River's narrow with suspicion.

Women are a hobby of mine. I have no romantic streak and view them as disposable, a waste of time really. But I know that if anybody ever treated my younger sister that way, I would beat them into oblivion. Why I find it acceptable for me and only me to act this way is beyond me. For some reason, the anger and hurt I see in a young girl's eyes when I damage them emotionally is nothing to me. I feel no remorse. But when Camellia cries because she sees a dead animal, it's all I can do to fight back my own tears. In my sister Camellia, I found my solace in the world. The one thing I live for.