seeing is believing // [stare]

[sbeeg]

Brown eyes examined the training gym. Zanita wondered if it was made with ever a thought that it would hold this many people at once. The trainers seemed a little overwhelmed as they handled ten tributes at once, all frantically trying to throw a javelin or start a fire. The camouflage trainer was covered from head to toe in paint and not on purpose.

Settling down beside the knife rack, Zanita tried to catch her breath. She had spent all day running around the gym getting her hands on as many different weapons as possible. Knives, javelins, swords, tridents- all expensive and well made. Nothing like the old, shoddy hunting knife she had back home. She held on to one of the knives from practice. It was one of the simpler ones, the hilt bound in leather. It was still made of nice metal and sharpened to a crazy sharp blade, but if felt a little bit like home.

Her eyes fell to her token, a simple band around her left ring finger. A little bit of home. She closed her eyes for a second and saw him there in all his glory. Tall, muscular, and full of attitude. He was talking to her, grinning and offering a hand. He only smiled like that for her. Or he used to.

She snapped her eyes open. There was no time left in her life to dwell on Sebastian.

Looking down at her knife, she pressed the tip of the blade to the pad of her finger. Watching as it pricked the shallowest cut. It should be easy to slice someone open. The past victors did it with ease by the time the finale rolled around.

"They all make it look so easy," Zanita said to herself, her eyebrows furrowed at the little bead of the blood on the tip of her finger.

[Stare]

all i know, all i know is
that my heart aches from time to time
haven't you, haven't you been
reading the questions in my mind

Fallon gravitated toward the nameless tributes.

It wasn't that she didn't like the names, but there were just so many - they floated in the air like storm clouds, hovering low and condemning the first generation tributes for daring to volunteer without a legacy. She much preferred the few patches of sunlight she could find, though they seemed at times to be few and far between.

She was happy to find others like her, though when she stumbled upon Zanita she wished it was a bit farther away from the statue-ghosts. All the weapons stations had them, and Fallon had been doing her best to avoid them. Mama had always told her to stay away from sharp things, anyway. Drifting behind the District Nine girl, she just barely caught a low murmur.

"They all make it look so easy."

"That's because it is easy," Fallon chirped up, stepping around for a better view of the tiny scarlet pearl on the girl's fingertip. She held up her own hand, indicating the bandages she'd been practicing with at the First Aid station earlier. "Keeping it in, that's the hard part."

Against her better judgement, Fallon's eyes shifted toward the statue-ghosts. She'd seen what they bled when the tributes attacked them. It wasn't red. Shuddering, Fallon leaned in closer, keeping her eyes on the ghosts in case they decided to suddenly move. "Especially when they're around. I think they intend to kill us in our sleep."

let it down, let it down now
it's much too late to make amends
all i see, all i see now
is merely an echo of the end

[sbeeg]

The little drop of blood slowly slid down her finger, morphing from a perfect ball into a tear drop.

"That's because it is easy." Zanita whirled around, her knife automatically raising between herself and the strange voice. Years of living on the edge of the district had made her reflexes sharp and the girl was prepared to face whoever was taunting her. However, what she found was very different. A small girl, splattered with freckles, was looking at her. She raised her hands showing off all the bandages that were wrapped around her fingers. "Keeping it in, that's the hard part."

Zanita lowered her knife. This girl wasn't a threat, and she certainly wasn't mocking her. She looked weak, and didn't exactly look like a model volunteer for the Hunger Games. Then the girl's eyes shifted to something behind Zanita. "Especially when they're around. I think they intend to kill us in our sleep."

Zanita looked behind her, and saw the observation deck where the Gamemakers sat watching them. She assumed that was were the stranger had been looking.

"I wouldn't worry about that, they need us alive," Zanita said, giving the girl a shrug. "For now, anyway."

[Stare]

all i know, all i know is
that my heart aches from time to time
haven't you, haven't you been
reading the questions in my mind

Fallon chewed anxiously on her lower lip, frowning at the statue-ghosts. They weren't moving - yet - but Zanita's words hadn't quite convinced her. They were ghosts, but somehow she didn't think they would be able to follow them into the Arena. If they wanted their revenge, they would have to take it soon.

Her gaze shifted upward, toward the real life monsters, and her frown deepened. That was where the most fearful glances were directed, but she had yet to completely understand why. The tributes were afraid of them, Mama was afraid of them, but they were just people and she was sure they wouldn't start feasting on her before her Private Training Station.

The statue-ghosts were different. They were unpredictable.

Fallon glanced over her shoulder briefly at some of the names. Hammerfell, Ruined, Turner. She sighed, looking back at Zanita and her knife.

"I haven't hit them yet," she murmured conspiratorially. "I think they get angrier when you hit them. There are so many names that are bigger than mine, I'm afraid it makes me an easier target." She paused, gesturing pointedly at the knife. "Not you, though. You're name's small, but you know how to fight them, don't you?"

let it down, let it down now
it's much too late to make amends
all i see, all i see now
is merely an echo of the end

[sbeeg]

As the girl talked on Zanita began to realize that she might not exactly know what this tribute was talking about. Something about hitting things, and how the "things" get angry when they do. Everyone gets angry when you hit them, or at least Zanita does. But as Zanita lost herself in this girl's strange speech she found herself a float again in the discussion of names. Big names and small names. Her eyes shifted over the rest of the gym, on the Victor's daughter from Five and the three Eckharts from Six. To a Hope and a Summit and a Fray. To a Hammerfell.

The girl was right. They were small names in a much bigger games. Many tributes had been forgotten as time moved on without them, and the risk to be hidden in the median of statistics was all too high for Zanita and this wisp of a girl.

The name Luzell meant nothing. Zanita was nothing but a street rat who lucked into a chance at glory.
"Not you, though. You're name's small, but you know how to fight them, don't you?"
The girl pointed to her knife and suddenly she didn't feel like such a nothing.

Zanita looked at the simple knife. It felt like an extension of her own arm. She had killed animals, gutted and skinned them all with a knife like this one. She had pressed the tip of her dull blade into the chest a certain boy who dared tread on her territory. Zanita was a small name, but she had a lot of fight in her.

Her brown eyes met the glazed over eyes of Fallon Payne. Another small name, but with little fight behind it. However, there was something there. In her eyes, in her mind, how she saw things that Zanita didn't understand.

No Fray, Turner, or another other big name could see anything quite as clearly as this girl had.

"I can," Zanita said, gripping her knife tighter, looking at her reflection in the clean Capitol blade before meeting the girl's gaze. "But you see everyone. They're blinded by their money and their big name. Us small names, we see through the facade. You see them for what they are."

[Stare]

all i know, all i know is
that my heart aches from time to time
haven't you, haven't you been
reading the questions in my mind

"I see too much," Fallon murmured, eyes sweeping around the Training Center uncertainly. That's what Mama had always told her, anyway. Before they'd started spouting symptoms and medical terms at her, they'd been blissfully dismissive. She had too vivid an imagination, was always playing too many games.

(Look at me now, Mama. Now I'm playing big girl games.)

She wrung her hands uncertainly, glancing nervously at the knife. Mama had never let her get too close to sharp things. The doctor said she could hurt herself or someone else. They treated her like a child, like someone too stupid to know that knives were sharp and people were thin-skinned, fragile creatures.

(They don't see what you see. They say you're crazy. They say the monsters aren't real.)

(They're real. Ripred, they're real.)

Fallon chewed on the inside of her cheek as Zanita's firm grip on the knife drew her attention. She could fight back. Zanita was everything Fallon wasn't - strong, sturdy, ready to take on the world. How did someone get to be like that? And Zanita wasn't the only one. The others didn't think Fallon noticed them. They were like the people back home, waving her off as clueless and blind. But she saw them. She saw the way some collapsed under pressure like paper figures, while others stood almost as strong as the statue-ghosts. She supposed some people were simply built to last longer than others. Longer than her.

She hesitated, gaze dropping. "Mama says the things I see aren't there. But they are." She paused, trying not to feel the statue-ghosts' glares beating against her back. "They scare me."

let it down, let it down now
it's much too late to make amends
all i see, all i see now
is merely an echo of the end

[sbeeg]

Zanita watched as the girl looked warily around the room. She was small and likely one of the first to go. Terrible thought to have, but true all the same. Zanita had watched enough children die on the streets to know a goner when she saw one. However, what Fallon had that those children didn't was a drive. She volunteered didn't she? That meant something.

Fallon looked as if she was running from something. Her eyes dropped to the floor as she explained she saw things. Zanita glanced around and didn't see anything out of the ordinary and then made a very late realization. Fallon may see people clearly but she also literally saw things that weren't there.

Oh.

"They scare me."

Zanita was no longer in the training gym. She was back in District Nine, huddled in her small tent with Kovu as rain tore apart the trees outside. The fire had been blown out an hour ago and Kovu's arms were clenched around her like a vice. She smoothed down his fine hair, whispering "it's okay" over and over until the words lost their meaning. She sang songs and rubbed his back until he finally fell asleep only for him to woken up by a clap of thunder. He spent the rest of the night in her lap going from sleepy to panicked every time lightning shot across the sky.

"It's okay to be scared, Kovu. I even get scared sometimes."

Despite her age, something maternal stirred in Zanita. She wasn't a mother, nor would she ever be. Yet, she felt the desire to take this child under her wing. To protect her from forces unseen. To calm her fears and teach her how to fight them. But she wouldn't get the chance. She was this girl's enemy and they only had a week together.

"It's okay to be scared. I get scared sometimes too," she said, then moved her knife towards Fallon offering her the hilt. "I can show you how to fight it."