~Yarella~

Yuri Warewell was a kind young man. He was probably the most pleasant eighteen year old you'd ever meet in District 3. Currently, he was nodding and grinning widely, baring his off-white and ever-so-slightly crooked teeth to the older man stood in front of him. The older man was a local merchant who sold various pieces of clothing. No one really knew where he got the different articles of clothing from, but it was assumed he and his wife tailored them themselves.

My moss green eyes scanned the piles of shirts and dresses and trousers that were on display. I took in the various different colours and patterns of the fabrics. Usually, I wouldn't be interested in how two colours complimented each other or how tidy needlework was, but at that moment I was finding anything I could to keep myself awake as Yuri and the merchant conversed. I had switched off from their chatting a while ago, finding that their topics of conversation were extremely dull. So here I was, staring at the unusual designs on ties. How interesting.

Tired of looking at clothes I glanced over at Yuri, who was stood to my right. He was quite tall -much taller than me- and had a lean build, the product of a couple of hours a day weightlifting. His short hair was slicked back, giving him a rather clean and tidy look. Originally, it was an ash blonde colour like mine, but when he had turned sixteen Yuri dyed it a light teal colour and had kept it like that ever since. I had no idea where he got the dye from, but I had the theory he had purchased it from one of the merchants. However, whenever I asked him he would never tell me. Yuri would insist that the garish colour made him unique, but I just thought it made him look like a clown. He was a peculiar sight, my brother. You wouldn't think he was the mayor's son. Then again, you wouldn't think I was the mayor's daughter.

Straggly hair that reached just below my shoulders, narrow eyes that created the illusion that I was always squinting, thin lips, crooked teeth and not a speck of make-up present on my face. You'd think I was a factory worker rather than the mayor's daughter. In all honesty, I don't think I'd be able work in a factory. Long hours, low pay, hardly any rest...it must be exhausting, and I'm guessing all the hard work is definitely not worth it.

It's weird thinking that the only thing stopping me from being a factory worker is the fact that I'm of 'higher status' than everybody else. If I wasn't a Warewell, I would be slaving away in a factory helping to make some kind of electronic device for people in the Capitol. Then again, maybe I'm not smart enough for even factory work. Let's just say I'm not exactly the sharpest tool in the box. When I left school last year my grades were horrible. I hated science, I utterly failed in maths and I did atrociously in history. However, it wasn't all bad. I excelled in English, with my teacher praising me for my 'vast amount of creativity'. Not that my father really cared about that. It was always about academics, and Yuri always won in that field.

Yuri left school with top grades, something he enjoyed mentioning whenever he could. His success quickly became the standard that I was expected to reach. I never lived up to my father's expectations though. And that seemed to disappoint him. It also seemed to make Yuri happy. But it wasn't my failure he was pleased with, it was the fact that he became the trophy child that made him happy.

He was the one whose name would always slip into conversations between my father and his friends, usually followed by some degree of bragging. 'Yuri was top of his class in science' and 'Yuri used to be head boy' were favourites and always seemed to find a way out of father's mouth and into the ears of whoever was around to listen. According to father, Yuri was the greatest thing since sliced bread and he couldn't stop bringing people's attention to how amazing he was. And then there was me, left on the sidelines to be ignored.

As my brother finally ended his conversation with the merchant, I found my gaze transfixed on a bracelet that was being displayed on the stall. It was made up of small, irregular-shaped chunks of a glistening silver rock of sorts. In between each shard was a small ruby red bead. Red was my favourite colour, and the way the ruby reflected off the silvery shards caught my eye. I wouldn't usually find a need for jewellery, but this piece was something that would grab people's attention and make people notice me. I wanted it.

Glaring over my shoulder is Yuri, his eyes focusing in on the bracelet. It's obvious that he's criticising it, making a mental list of what's right and what's wrong with it. I also know that the only reason he's leaning in so close is because he wants a bit of attention. I ignore him. There is silence between us as we both stare down at the bracelet. Inside, I'm just waiting for Yuri to make a remark like he usually does.

''It's a bit much, isn't it?'' There it is. The comment I've been waiting for. Yuri's obviously fake posh accent irritates me and I feel the need to bite back at his snide comment.

''Your hair is a bit much.'' I retort whilst giving him the most menacing look I could muster up.

Huffing, Yuri stepped back slightly and scowled at me. It was apparent that my remark about his choice in hair colour did not go down well. Turning his back on me, he began walking briskly away, trying to keep his polite and professional demeanour in tact. With him gone I turned my attention back onto the silver and red bracelet, but it was quickly averted back onto my brother again as he began giving orders to me.

''Hurry up Yarella, we need to go.'' He called out, treating me like I was his pet dog or something. I glared daggers at him in response, but he seemed unfazed and continued to stare at me as if he was expecting me to rush over. Begrudgingly, I strolled over to him, leaving behind the bracelet I so desperately wanted.

''Where are we going now?'' I asked with little enthusiasm as we walked down the cobblestone path. I trailed behind my brother, knowing full well it would annoy him as he would have to eventually stop and wait for me.

''Sy and his brother.'' Yuri replied, not bothering to look at me as he spoke.

Whilst I would usually find my brother annoying, I had to admit he was probably one of the nicest eighteen year olds I knew. Almost everyday he would go around District 3, visiting merchants and families. He would ask how they were doing, give congratulations or condolences if necessary and would generally just show some kind of interest in their daily lives. Why did he do it? Mostly because he believed it was a good representation for him and the rest of the Warewells. What effect did it have on the people of District 3? Quite a big one.

Almost everyone knew my brother and would always smile and greet him whenever he would pass by. People seemed to be in high spirits when he would visit and he was very popular. However, wandering around the district talking to people I hardly knew was not something I found very interesting.

''Ugh, I think I'm going to go back home.'' I told Yuri.

''I thought you said it was boring at home. That's why you came with me.'' He said, stopping in his tracks and spinning on his heels to face me. One of his eyebrows was raised at me.

''I went out to stop being bored, not to get even more bored.'' I briefly explained.

''It's not boring! It's quite interesting actually.'' Yuri defended.

''For you maybe, but for me it's about as interesting as watching paint dry.''

Yuri looked at me, his mouth hanging open slightly in disbelief. Surely it wasn't that surprising that I found this whole routine boring. After a few more seconds of standing idly with his mouth agape, Yuri finally sealed his lips and folded his arms across his chest. He tilted his head downwards slightly and glowered at me, his dark green eyes seeming to burn into my skin.

''Fine. Go back then.'' He said, his voice as cold as ice.

Recovering from the shock of hearing my usually polite older brother using an icy tone, I headed back home where boredom awaited me.

XXX

Lounging around the living room was not my idea of fun. Unfortunately, there wasn't much else to do. Father was in his study, Yuri was still out chatting with the citizens of District 3 and Yasmin and Yoren, my younger brother and sister, were still at school. Bored out of my mind, I looked quickly around the room for something to do. My gaze landed on the large bookshelf leaning against the wall on the far side of the room. Surely there would be something interesting to read.

Swiftly, my eyes scanned along the numerous shelves of the bookcase. Skimming through the titles, I found nothing of interest. Just as I was about to give up my search for something to destroy my boredom, my eyes spotted an unfamiliar book. It was sticking out of the bookcase slightly and did not look as worn as the other books. In fact, it looked quite new. There was no title on it, which made me curious. Pulling the book from the wooden bookcase, I examined the dark leather cover. It was blank, there was absolutely no indication as to what was written inside it.

Opening the mysterious book, I began to read through it. I quickly realised that the wonky, untidy handwriting was my father's. I also quickly realised that what was written inside were my father's numerous speeches he had made over the years. They were dated as well, with the earliest being written almost twenty years ago. Flicking through, I watched as the dates grew later and later, until I reached the last speech he made. It had been written just two weeks ago, and I remembered my father reading it to the district a few days ago. As I read through, I imagined my father's hoarse voice saying the words.

''Citizens of District 3, as you all know a great danger to our children is looming over us. I am of course talking about the reaping. I'm sure all of you are familiar with this tragic day, when the Capitol pick two children and steal them away to participate in the horror show that is the Hunger Games. This year will be the 71st Hunger Games, and I am utterly disgusted at the fact that this shocking event has gone on for so long. I'm sure you all are too. So, whilst it may seem a bit late, I am asking you all to go against this horrific show.

Whilst we may not be an army that can storm into the Capitol and destroy it, we can still rise against the government that controls the Games. I want you all to refuse to watch the Games. If a Peacekeeper tries to force you, you say no. If they beat you, you do not give them the satisfaction of giving in. I am not asking you to rally, I am asking you to do something other than watch the Hunger Games. Sleep, work, have a party. Just don't watch the Games. If we work together, we can succeed together.''

I remembered how the crowd reacted when my father had finished. Some applauded and cheered, fully in support of him. Others thought he was mad. Going against the Capitol by not watching the Hunger Games, what was he thinking?

I turned the page of the book and found another entry. Only this one wasn't a speech, it was my father's own thoughts. More specifically, it was his thoughts about his rebellious speech and the consequences of it:

''What was I thinking? I basically told everyone in District 3 to rebel against the Capitol! And just before the reaping. I have a family of four children to look after! The Capitol will surely punish me for this, maybe they'll even punish my children! Oh god what was I thinking? They'll probably imprison me for life, and my children...no, Swarovski will protect them, he wouldn't allow anyone to touch them. But he's only one man... How could I do this? I've not only endangered myself but my children are now targets as well. I have to do something, but what? Maybe...no it's stupid. That would never work. If worse comes to worse, I'll sacrifice myself. I'm not letting the Capitol lay a finger on my children.''

Slamming the book shut, I placed it back in the bookcase. A horrible feeling built up in the pit of my stomach. The thought of being a target made me feel terrified. But it was the idea of Yoren and Yasmin being targets that made me feel even more sick. They were only young, not even old enough to participate in the Hunger Games. The thought of something bad happening to them made me feel faint.

Suddenly, I jumped as I heard the front door open and then slam shut. I heard running coming from the hallway, and it was getting closer to the living room. My heart was pounding; had the Peacekeepers come already to take my father away? I was contemplating hiding, but my body was frozen in place. Trembling, I stared at the living room door, waiting for whoever it was to come bursting through.

But there were no Peacekeepers. Instead, two small children came charging into the room, big smiles plastered on their faces. At the sight of me, their eyes lit up and they both shouted out my name in glee. ''Yarella!''

''Yasmin! Yoren!'' I exclaimed in joy as they embraced me.

Glancing over at the doorway, I saw my blue-haired brother creep into view. His beige blazer was flung over his shoulder and a faint smirk was on his face.

''I decided to pick these two up from school.'' Yuri quickly explained.

''I wondered why you were taking so long on your tour of the district.'' I said as I released Yasmin and Yoren from my arms.

Yasmin and Yoren were soon telling me about their day at school. I listened to the duo, keeping a bright smile on my face and occasionally laughing at their blunt comments about the teachers and students they disliked. However, it seemed like my smile wasn't very good at hiding my inner concerns. As soon as Yasmin and Yoren had retreated upstairs to their rooms, Yuri approached me.

''What's wrong?'' He said, concern laced in his voice.

''Nothing.'' I replied, almost too quickly.

''There's definitely something on your mind, Yarella. What is it?'' Yuri was persistent. There was no point lying to him, he could read you like a book.

''I found father's journal. It said about us being targets for the Capitol because of his speech a few days ago.'' I confessed, my voice quiet even though it was only me and Yuri in the room.

''What? You read father's journal!'' Yuri exclaimed whilst still keeping as quiet as possible.

''That's not the point!'' I told him, a slight twinge of anger in me. ''We're targets, all of us! Me, you, father, Yasmin and Yoren!''

Yuri placed his head in his hands and slowly dragged them down his face. I looked into his eyes, trying to find some hint as to what he was feeling. But I found nothing. After a more than awkward silence, Yuri finally spoke to me in a hushed voice. ''We're not targets.''

''Yes, we are!'' I insisted. I was in disbelief at what I was hearing from Yuri. He was denying the obvious.

''No, no we're not. The Capitol wouldn't do that.'' He murmured as he slightly adjusted one of his bracers. I noticed he wasn't looking at me and instead he was staring at the light carpet.

''Stop denying it, Yuri! The Capitol would gladly make an example out of us!''

''No!'' The outburst was so sudden I jolted backwards. Looking at my brother, I could tell even he was surprised.

With a shake of his head and a deep breath, Yuri's cool and calm demeanour returned. There was a slight pause before he addressed me again. ''No, they wouldn't.''

Even though he was hiding it well, I could still see a hint of it in him. Fear. He was scared. But he didn't want to admit it. I myself felt that I had shown too much terror, but there was no way of hiding it for me. It just seemed to break free of its confines and take over my body like a disease. I hated Yuri for being able to hide it better than I could, and I struck him with my words. ''Give it up. Just admit you're scared.''

Yuri looked up at me and I could fully see the worry on his face. I was almost certain I saw sweat drip down his forehead. It almost made me feel sorry for him. No, I wouldn't stop. I would continue with my assault.

''Stop pretending! You always act like you're in control, but you're not.''

Yuri was shaking, but I couldn't tell if it was in fear or anger. I soon found out it was in rage, as he countered my vicious verbal attack with one of his own.

''Well you don't really have a tight grip on things either, do you? Look at you! You look like you've just seen a ghost. Father won't let them anywhere near us, don't you understand?''

''I understand. I understand that he doesn't have half the power the President has, and that he could be struck down in an instant!''

This seemed to strike a chord with Yuri, who froze like a statue. I was expecting a counterargument, but there was none. Instead, Yuri turned around and stormed out of the room, down the hallway and out of the house. I didn't see him until the next day, the day of the reaping.

Author's Notes: I hope you enjoyed this! I'm not sure if and when I'll finish this fanfic, but I'll try and update when I can. Please make sure your criticism is constructive, and remember to fave, follow and review if you enjoyed!