Dear Journal,

I am cold. I shiver. I look outside my window. The ghosts of the dead are traveling through a dark, dank, murky landscape. They chant, and I can't hear what they say. But I know what they are

doomed to do forever. Wander. Me? I'm visiting Persephone, my daughter. She's all happy in the Underworld because she is married to that Hades. That infernal, pesky, grumpy king of the dead

and ruler of this mud hole. I don't know why I succumbed to her begging, but I know I regret it. I shiver again. My bedroom is supposed to be nice, but 'nice' isn't the word to describe anything

down here. More like, 'dead,' or 'dreary.' If I had to name a third, it would be just plain 'BORING.' And cold. I shiver for what feels like the millionth time tonight. An arc of cold slinks up my

spine, causing me to shudder. I can't sleep. I get up, push off the thin, stale sheets, and glide noiselessly out the door. That's another thing-I'm stealthier than a cat. The halls of Hades are

deserted at this hour, and I hover through the long, gray corridors alone. I'm hovering, yes. I am a goddess, so I can indeed hover in midair. I soar down the hall, and I zoom into the dining hall,

where I hear voices. But before I fly through the door, I change myself into a snake. I slither under the huge wooden doors unseen. The voices get louder as I draw nearer to their sources. I

recognize them. Athena is blabbering on and on about her lost love. What was his name? Omally? I can't remember. Hera is yelling at Aphrodite and they are blasting each other with energy,

pink and sky blue. I know what they are talking about. That silly mortal war that is happening up on Earth. In Troy, I think. Hera's down here visiting Hades and Persephone, too. And she too

made the mistake of answering Persephone's pleas for a visit. Oh well. At least I'm not alone. I hear Persephone crying in the corner. No. She's weeping terribly, completely heartbroken. I slither

to the side of her chair, and grow back into human form. She stops a little, but no one else shows reaction. Hades, who sleeps in the corner (in a plush chair) does not stir. I ask her why she's

crying. Her sobbing gradually subsides, and she starts to speak. I notice something strange. Her hair! Its quantities are usually luminous, brown, and shiny. But now her braid was cut short

about twelve or thirteen inches. I gasp. She says that Athena did this to her. I storm up to that girl. She stops whining about Mr. Omally long enough to tell me to buzz off. I whack her with a

carrot. She stops blabbering again. She's not ichoring, but she rubs the spot on her arm. She says that it really hurt. I say it didn't and that she's overreacting. She grabs the carrot and whacks

me. She draws her sword. I change it into a bundle of wheat. She curses, and drops it. I say that fighting is not what I came for. She scoffs. I say that I came to ask why she slashed my

daughter's braid. She says some nonsense about her being really annoying. I say that this isn't finished. I walk away, a plan formulating in my brain. I come up to Persephone, and whisper in her

ear. She grins ear to ear. We change ourselves to animals and fly out the door.

Demeter