Artemis Neverending, District 2, Female, Age 18,

I was born the eldest of twins. Apollo and I, we were best friends. But we'd seemed like polar opposites. He was charismatic and funny, social and charming. He'd have been the sun, he was to me. I, on the other hand, was introverted, hostile, determined and cunning. I was older, but I looked up to him, I did, I really did. That sure changed throughout time. I remember him teasing me once he grew taller than I, I'd shove him and he'd make some comment that would throw us into fits of laughter. The thoughts gets make me scowl.

Our parents had been peacekeepers, they died one day in a rebel attack. Throwing us both, into a community home, foster care. Our parents had told us to be peacekeepers when we grew up, just like them. Something important to the Capitol. Apollo jumped at the chance, he'd been so excited, he practically dragged me into it. I was good, better than good even, I was phenomenal. And he would whine about it.

We realized soon that we both specialized in different things. But when it came to one-on-one, Artemis was far superior. Once put into the foster system, they continued. Apollo continuing his as a mere use to stay in shape, Artemis, it was her one way ticket to revenge. She wished there were more rebels in their District. Because she wanted to kill, to hurt them, for what they did to her family.

She hated the foster care, the orphanage. She was hit, she was hurt and sweet Apollo was their favourite. She soon developed jealousy towards her twin, how could she not? While she was ugly as a mule, he was as charming and handsome as anything. He'd been offered a job at being a model, which he'd accepted, for the money, always for the money. While she was hit in the Courner, he was everyone's golden boy.

It wasn't a surprise when he was adopted at age fourteen. To be honest, she'd expected it to come sooner. It was a rich, welcoming home, with a loving family. They even had a little girl already. My replament, was what I mostly thought of the little girl.

I expected Apollo to visit, to come around to see me, walk with me to class. But after he was adopted, he never even made eye-contact with me again. He was always surrounded, with friends. Fake or real, they all seemed to blur together. And sooner or later, Artemis realized she'd started to despise her brother. But he was her blood, her brother, the one who's made her laugh and smile, now wouldn't even look at her. She'd though adoption would only mean they wouldn't get to see each other as often, but instead it changed everything

This change made me change. He'd been my life, my whole freakin' life. And they he just left me, and it hurt. He was supposed to stay forever, be there with me forever. And when he left I thought that I'd still have that forever. But I didn't, because he erased that forever, he broke that forever, he laughed at that forever and then walked away. And it changed me. It changed me.

He wasn't my sweet brother anymore, he was some rich snob who only cared about image and money. But then, he was still Apollo, he was funny and charming and no matter how much she wanted to hate him, to loathe him, she couldn't. He was her blood and she still loved him.

She continued her training throughout life, and one day she snapped. I'd felt it. I'd been training, when all of a sudden his face way what I envisioned as I let my punch fly. It startled me, it stopped my punch in its tracks. Did I want to hurt Apollo?

Then it hit me completely, of course I did. He'd done nothing for me, he'd hurt me, he'd practically broke me. I snarled at the memory. My small little brother was gone, in his place an arrogant model, thinking he'd been God's gift to his adoptive parents. I visited him one day, it was late at night and I snuck out.

I was walking, when there I saw him, with his friends, laughing idiotically, smiling and her, his sister, sitting next to him. Curling into him as she laughed, the sight made me sick to the stomach. Because I'd been replaced. Because to me, he'd never been replaced, even after all that he'd done to me. He should be the with me, begging for my forgiveness, but instead he's laughing with Artemis 2.0, my fist clenched. I'd ran, I'd been reckless, too consumed with anger to let my thoughts process.

I'd caught, it was a beating, severe. It'd been my first bad one in years, the scars still seemed fresh if I ran my fingers over them. They were on my left leg. And they hurt, in memory, and they had hurt, physically. And it'd been his fault. And I realized that I hated my brother. I hated him. I hated him. I hated him. The next day at school, I saw him, his idiot sister attached to him. She didn't do anything wrong, technically, but I didn't care. Why would I? She hadn't done anything for me, ever.

Every week he'd seem to have more friends, he was prowling through girlfriends by the days. But that didn't stop them, they'd continue to throw themselves at him. Desperate enough for anything, and he'd let them. I grimaced, sick bastard. I wanted someon to see the monster that lurked inside him, I longed to see the day he was finally turned down. I smiled, that was a nice thought. Him being the one rejected for once, seemed he didn't doing it to others.

If she told someone that Apollo and her were related they'd laugh in her face, call her a liar, then leave. Artemis was a lot near, too scared to Trust anyone, Apollo did this to me, I'd think, blame him. But nobody would, because he was Apolloand she was Artemis. And she hated the fact.

Apollo, sweet little Apollo. At his new house he was the oldest sibling. Must have been nice, a change. She'd gone through a change too, his fault. She wondered if was ever beat a day in his life, even hit or smacked. She doubted it. His parents wouldn't dare break their little money-maker. And his sweet sister, she had no idea what kind of hypocritical, little bastard her brother was. He was her brother, hers, and she had the right to do whatever she wanted to him. That included pain.

She wanted him to feel the pain he had once inflicted upon her, the pain she would feel whenever his name was mentioned around the orphanage or school, even town. He'd dropped his peacekeeping dream, according to the town gossip, to pursue modelling. Her brother would never have done that, she knew he wouldn't have, she knew. Turns out, she didn't know him anymore, when his face appeared in the Capitol's magazines and advertisements around the District.

And then she knew that he'd changed.

Her Apollo, would never have chosen money over dream. She knew him, he'd never shown the same interest in modeling than he had in peacekeeping. He'd wanted to honor our parents, he'd wanted to make them proud. They'd be the opposite of proud. At least, she was. He'd turned his back n family the second fame and fortune reared its ugly little head. And he'd pushed her down and shoved her out of his way to achieve it.

But when she got up, some pieces of herself were replaced, instead of looking at him lovingly, her expression had turned to one of pure hatred. When she got another beating for being distracted by his stupid face, she'd like to have blamed him too.

He was her nemesis. He was her undoing. He was her brother still, though. She'd fantasized herself hugging or hurting him, sometimes both. But then she'd wake up and he'd still be at his new house, with his new sister and new persona. And then no matter the dream, she'd want to hurt him all over again. She'd imagine him begging her for mercy, smiling maniacally back, him crying, screaming. Then she'd wake, feeling guilty but vengeful all the same. Which eventually led to the question within herself, could she kill her own blood. Her own brother. Her own twin. Apollo.

Was he even her brother anymore? Blood does not define us, Apollo was living proof of that. He'd come from a foster home, she's sure he would write about it later on.

I came from The slums, the worst of the worst. And I rose to fame, my looks brought me here. I knew that if I kept going, eventually my saving grace would come, it would save me. Then, a family of three walked in, and I knew that I'd found it. They adopted me, and I was forever gracious. They took me in, loved me and cared for me. They already had a daughter, her name was Rhea. We hit it off immediately, we loved each other. She was the sister I'd always imagined. I liked my new life, soon I was modeling again, earning money from it. I got to then quit my pastime job, working to become a peacekeeper, to pursue modeling completely. Even if you come from the humblest of beginning, you'll find your place. Either like me, you'll rise to greatness or continue living the life you never deserved. Life at the orphanage was horrible for me. And I am ever so grateful that my angel came. Hopefully yours will too. Love, Apollo Enema.

Enema, that was his new name. Enema, how did I loathe that name. Artemis threw the magazine across the room, too angry to care. This article, it'd been like she never existed. His smiling face, the picture of him accompanying it, seemed to be mocking her. She scowled back. She stretched, trying to keep all her swirling emotions in tow. She was currently sitting cross legged on her bed, a lumpy old metal thing with a mattress flung lazily into it.

I wanted to burn the magazine. It felt like torture reading through it. But she had too, no matter how much she wanted to put it down that part of her at the back of her head urged her on. The slums, the worst of the worst. She gritted her teeth, how she hated him right now. It was during times like these where she really saw why she loathed him so, others times she'd wonder why she hated him so much. But the next day she'd always know. She always did.

She was the sister I'd always imagined. That one hurt, he had a sister. Her. Although judging by the article he'd seem to have forgotten. That made her stomach turn and her fist clench. She wanted to scream, but that would only earn her another beating. So instead she closed her eyes and tried to sleep it off. She was his sitter, how could he have thrown her away so easily, so quickly, not even seeming to flinch. Rhea, the girl's name was like a poison.

Life at the orphanage was horrible for me. Sure it was Apollo, sure it was. He'd been their favourite, their golden-boy. She'd been beaten and abused. He'd been able to get a job and work for himself, he'd had the privilege of pursuing his dream, he'd been adopted because of how happy he was at the orphanage. He'd never been beaten, yelled at, slapped, hit, kicked, hurt. No one had ever broken his heart. They made him sound like a hero, something inspirational, someone to look up to. He was anything but those things, he was a sick, cold monster. Who'd killed her without a second glance.

She raised herself off the bed, and slowly stalked over to the magazine. His face was smiling at her, almost as in a trance she felt her mouth open and fist move forward. She screamed loudly before punching the wall. A horrible scream, that she'd used to try and show her e options, to tell him her thoughts, shout her frustration. The wall had a hole in it and she was confused for a second before she just realized what she'd done. The reaction was immediate, the pain was intoxicating. She was feeling faint, her vision blurry, she heard voices and screams. And then, the last thing she saw was Apollo's face, smiling at her as she crumpled from the pain. She felt her vision go dark and her foster mom scream at her face, she felt a slap and some more pain, before her whole vision went black.

Your fault.

She thought gingerly, Apollo's golden Features burning bright in her mind.

How fun do you think it'd be to write Apollo's pov, just think about it. His take on the whole betraying/abandoning thing. How awesome would that be, I'm tempted to write it actually...