~Restoring*Our*Innocence*~Rosetta, Nofo, Shrimp

[Rosetta]

Who is that girl I see…

Lethe Turner

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Staring straight back at me?

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Twenty four more children.
Twenty three more dead.
One more scarred.

Lethe swallowed hard as she watched the recap of the Reapings. Every face left an imprint in her heart that seared her. She was sure she'd picked up a glimpse of each and everyone one of these kids during the Victory Tour. They flitted like shadows in and out of her mind. The sight of a girl's tiny hands, once clapping for the Victor, now clutching one another as she made her way up the stairs. A brief glance of a boy flattening his hair, bored, but now frantic, his hair sticking up more than ever. She had even met one of the kids Reaped, Michael Smith. She'd just seen him as another wannabe Career in the Games. She'd never actually expected that to come true. And now she was about to watch them all be sent off to their deaths.

Lethe curled up further on the couch, the train rattling on around her. She was still feeling guilty about opting to watch the Reapings alone, away from Sundra and Arden. But, it was something like with her own face: she was afraid to see their's, fearing the death that lingered there. In two weeks, they could both be gone from this world.

The Reapings for the next Games had snuck up on her, nearing as hectic months passed spent in fancy gowns, at dinner parties, shaking hands with important people, plastering on fake smiles. And finally, it had come and Lethe had woken up in a cold sweat, remembering the words: "Ladies first! Lethe Turner!"

It was an effort to get up, shower, get dressed and do her hair in a satisfactory way. It was effort kissing each and everyone one of her siblings, knowing she'd be leaving them again for at least a month to watch familiar horrors yet again, not as close, but enough. Her mother had held her close and stuffed some bread crumbs into her hands, knowing a certain lizard loved them. Of course, Camalia would be accompanying her.

"It'll be okay, mom," she whispered in the kitchen, forcing her voice to remain steady. She jerked her head towards the door, where her siblings were just behind it, readying themselves, anxiously. "Don't worry about me...it's them." As soon as she said the words, she regretted them. The woman she held in her arms seemed to crumble further with the prospect with losing another child, whether to her own mind or Death's clutches. Despite this guilt, Lethe swiftly wrenched from her mother's grip, unable to bear the women's tears. Ever since the Games, ever since the operation, Lethe couldn't deal with being around her family, couldn't take their looks at her, tears, obvious efforts to cover the mirrors and anything reflective. Though it was all out of love, it only succeeded in irritating Lethe, forcing her to withdraw to Camalia and her horses, causing her to unravel the threads her family had hoped to strengthen after the Games...

Camalia licked Lethe's arm, and proceeded to skitter up it as the clip finally came to District 12. Lethe ran her finger gently over the lizard's scaly back, wondering if perhaps District 12 would once more gain back the luck they'd had with Victors over the years. Or would the title go to a more unlikely District, such as Lethe's own District. The announcers on the television seemed to be wondering the same thing, but with a lot more relish, sickening Lethe, who hastened to turn it off. And she thought standing on that stage, watching the two children be sentenced to Hell had been bad enough...

As a Mentor, doomed to try and keep the two unfortunates alive, Lethe had to give her family one last fleeting hug and a flutter of a kiss before hurrying onto the stage. The mayor eyed the lizard on her shoulder, but Lethe ignored him. Let him think what he wanted. She took her seat, cradling an ever eager Camalia in her hands, watching the filling District Square out of her real eye.

As the trembling, anxious crowd swelled, as did Lethe's own nerves. Was it to be her siblings? One of her many? Or kids at school? Perhaps it was a blessing she'd never been too popular and never had too many friends. Less faces to have to reminded of, first off, and now, since that was no longer a problem, less people to have to care for. It was the sad truth that when the Reapings rolled around and you weren't familiar with the tributes, you just stopped caring. Another sad truth though was: everyone knew each other, so unfamiliar faces were uncommon.

Lethe tuned it all out until the names came. And she waited with bated breath, just like everyone else. And she was frightened, frightened. And it wasn't any of her siblings. And her parents breathed again and she managed a small sigh. But, it was Sundra and Arden, two people Lethe had glimpsed and had never had any problem with. Two innocent kids. Arden was rather attractive, a pity, really. Such looks wouldn't last in the Games. Sundra was a Wie, a name Lethe had to dig out of her mind for a while to come up with Storm Wie, an older boy in the District that she'd never actually spoken to and had watched be killed on television by his ally, who later went on to become the Victor. It always seemed the allies turned on one another in the end. For her sake, Lethe prayed Sundra had learned enough from her brother's death that allies were risky. Anya, Saskia and Razor still found themselves in her dreams every night.

Yawning, Lethe stood to stretch across the couch, listening to the satisfying crack of her neck and shoulders, releasing the built up stress. Yet, she never had a shortage of stress nowadays. In selfish fear she'd run into Sundra and Arden if she left the room, Lethe stayed there for the night, sleeping little, the rocking of the train bringing to life too many memories for Lethe to handle. Finally, tear-stained, sweating and curled into a fetal position, Lethe was roused by a Capitol attendant, who told her it was morning and that they'd arrived.

Without even pretending to be glad, Lethe dressed in simple jeans and a t-shirt before making her way from the train onto the platform. Cameras instantly flashed in her eyes, but used to it, Lethe walked, blank-faced into the Training Center, trying not to glimpse the small, blonde figure in the reflective glass the building was made of. The lobby was as bustling as the outside, but this time with tributes, Victors, stylists and Capitol attendants. Lethe eyed the other Victors, glimpsing Topaz Ross, whom she'd always find quite glamorous, with her poor, younger sister. A couple of the Victors were speaking amiably, hugging each other and even laughing. Lethe had no one to do that with yet. Heron Kimberling was the most recent Victor other than Lethe, so she perhaps she felt just as left out as Lethe, but the girl couldn't bring herself to approach anyone.

Instead, Lethe shadowed Sundra and Arden over to their stylists, which included a stylist Lethe was familiar with, who smiled and waved at Lethe. She considered going up to her room, but the thought of being alone in this all too familiar city rooted her to the spot. Following the tributes it was, and seeing as Lethe had never seen a boy naked and seeing a naked one being groomed wasn't her preference, she'd joined Sundra and her stylist, following them up to a separate room.

And there, Lethe leaned against the wall as Sundra was made beautiful, remembering her own experience. How Mel did her hair, how it flowed long and gorgeous, not thin and frizzy as it was now. Her eyes were large, both fully functioning, her stance tall, not slouched. And for the first time in her life, she felt beautiful. Those times were long gone. Lethe Turner would never feel anything, but atrocious. A monster.

Living with herself every single day was just a struggle. She couldn't use mirrors, couldn't bare to feel her own skin, couldn't even hear her name. Monster. Monster. Monster. That's who the unrecognizable girl was. A monster.

Lethe didn't stick around much as they were dressing Sundra. Soon they'd be breaking out the mirrors to show the girl how lovely she was and Lethe didn't want to be there. And so, she made to leave, but Mel, who'd crept in a few moment's before, caught her.

"Wait one minute, Lethe," she called and Lethe froze, nervously. Mel ran to the closet and came back with a dress bag. "Put it on," she winked. "You'll be in the audience for the Opening Ceremony and the current tributes can't get all the attention!" Too embarrassed to change here, although Mel had seen her changing before, Lethe quietly thanked her and slipped off. Back in her room, Lethe unzipped the bag and felt her stomach drop.

The dress was classy, semi-formal, but flashy. Extremely flashy. Full of glitter and reflective pieces. Oh, that foolish stylist! Lethe knew she hadn't meant it, knew the woman, though caring, wasn't the brightest. She'd just made it so Lethe was just noticed more, something the girl dreaded the most. All Lethe wanted to do was fade away, just as easily as her reflection seemed to. Just as easily as her ability to recognize herself. She wanted to disappear, deny the existence of the Games-what Games? She wasn't a Victor, not a monster. No, she was just Lethe Turner, a simple District 5 girl, just that! Not a monster!

Lethe lifted the dress, gingerly and smaller article tumbled free. Examining it, she found that Mel had even gone out of her way to make a tiny dress just fit for Camalia. Lethe grimaced at the lizard.

"Am I really about to force you into this?" she asked and Camalia replied with a lick. Knowing it'll just make Mel happy, Lethe sighed and dressed them both and put on her best smile, a proud smile. For Sundra and Arden. Might as well pretend.

Still, she couldn't resist having animate conversations with Camalia all night just so everyone would leave her alone. And it worked.

The next morning, Lethe could taste the silence before her breakfast. The dining room just for her District (at least for breakfast and dinner-the tributes spent lunch together) was filled by only herself and the two unfortunates, all eating quietly. Even Lethe's milk being poured into a cup sounded loud.

Lethe supposed this was the time she was supposed to actually be polite and talk to the tributes. She was their mentor, their lifeline and all she'd done was ignore them! She'd been in their place before-oh gosh, just a year ago-and if she'd been ignored so, her fears would've definitely been heightened. But, what was she to tell them? Lethe had long since come to terms with the fact that her victory had just been luck. The mutts always seemed to go for her allies rather than herself. And when it had come down to herself and Razor? Now, that was just bizarre-the tiny, one-eyed girl taking down the huge Career. Luck. Luck. Luck.

Was that what she was to tell them? Be lucky? Pray the mutts turn the opposite direction, that your knife hits the right way? Her thoughts told her nothing, nothing at all, but the silence was breaking her down. Lethe cleared her throat.

"So, um, hi," she tried. Hi? Lame. "I'm Lethe, but you probably already know that. And this-" Lethe pried Camalia off of the muffin that she was munching on and held her out to the tributes, "is Camalia. Don't worry, she doesn't bite. She likes to lick people." Camalia scuttled out of Lethe's hands and proceeded to run her tongue over Arden and Sundra's fingers, happily. "See, she likes you!" Lethe smiled, but she could still sense the tense atmosphere. She cleared her throat again and leaned forward, fingers interlocked. "Listen, this is my first year doing this, I'm really sorry, I, uh, hope you guys do well, okay?" Do well?! What a stupid thing to say!

Lethe lifted Camalia by her tail, once more taking the lizard out of food and put her on her shoulder to buy time. But, with that task finished, she knew she must speak again. Swallowing hard, Lethe asked, "Do you guys have any questions for me? I'd be happy to answer them! Just ask."[/size][/blockquote][/color]