The small ten year old girl was sitting at the edge of the lake at Camp Half-Blood. Her toes were just inches from the lapping water, and she wanted to stretch those extra inches to dip them in the cool water.
She had her knees brought up to her chest, and her chin was resting on them, giving her the perfect view of the sand she had been sitting on for nearly an hour, freeing one of her hands, she wrote her name neatly in the sand. Miranda Arnolds.
Only four days ago, her mother told her she had to go to a special camp, and promptly dumped her here, then left. She had then been forced to watch a film, then brought to a brown, run-down cabin. So far, her summer was horrible. She'd originally planned to go to her best friend, Susan's house and go swimming at the beach.
Already two boys, brothers, had come and bugged her today, both joking around, and she supposed, trying to cheer her up. But how do you cheer up a girl whose mother had abandoned her in a strange place.
Then to add further injury, she'd learned that her father was Hermes, the god of messengers, and she would have to stay in the same cabin, but at least she got a bed. The only thing that made it better was there was one girl at the camp, who was also ten years old. She had blonde hair, and grey eyes, and she was pretty smart, and her name was really pretty, Annabeth.
With a sigh, and a bit of annoyance at the dinner bell, the ten year old slowly stood up, stretching her limbs, but before she left, she looked down at her name, and wiped out her last name, then, with a satisfied smile she went to get her in cabin's line up to go eat.
The camp became her entire world. Her mother had never come to pick her up, but she sent letters from time to time. They were addressed to Miranda Arnolds, but Miranda had dropped her last name two years ago, when she had first been left at the camp. Not once did a letter leave the camp addressed to a Ms. Rowan Arnolds. That woman had been long forgotten, and soon, her letters disappeared too.
Life at camp was hectic at times, but very boring. Miranda had found herself at the beach more than once, sitting just as she did four days after arriving, but each time, the same two brothers, Travis and Connor Stoll, came and cheered her up. The only other people that Miranda would talk to were her cabin's councillor, Luke Castellan, and a daughter of Athena, Annabeth Chase.
This year, camp was even more hectic then normal. A new kid came, one that was suppose to show great promise. He was a small scrawny boy with black hair and sea-green eyes. Miranda didn't think he'd amount to anything, but when it turned out he was the son of Poseidon, Miranda couldn't help but resent him just a bit.
How was it fair that within days of coming to camp, he was awarded a quest, granted that it was him who had to go on it, but so many campers had wanted a quest, and been there for years, Miranda included, and none of them were impressed with this new kid, Percy Jackson for getting to do their dream.
That was also around the time where Annabeth became⦠fascinated with the boy. She stopped talking to many of her friends, and when she returned from the quest, she stopped talking to everyone but her cabin, and Percy. Oh, and Grover, the satyr as well. Other than them, her social circle was non-existent.
Miranda just treated the incident like she had with her mother. Forget all about the person in question. Later that day, Luke had come up to her, pulling her aside, and talking to her in fevered whispers, asking her if she'd like to come join him, go against the gods. Miranda loved the idea, but she wasn't sure about leaving, so she declined, but maybe later, when she got another look at the gods during the Winter solstice.
While lounging in her surprisingly empty cabin, Travis came running inside, out of breath and horrified. He asked where Luke was, and Miranda responded with a bit of rudeness. Though she quickly regretted it, the damage was done, and Travis stalked out.
Scorn was what she met wherever she went. During the class she taught, no one would face her, else she took out her wrath on the poor unsuspecting victim. Not that she really would, but Miranda had quickly adopted the camps view of her. No one liked her, ever since Luke had left, she'd become observant, seeing from a different view how the gods were. It reminded her too much of her mother, so she'd retreated into herself, lashing out at anyone who tried to help.
Eventually, people stopped trying to help, but Miranda just kept lashing out, towards anyone in her class, or in the classes she attended. Neither Chiron or Mr. D had pulled her aside yet, but they would soon.
With an old backpack filled with her few measly belongings, and a few things she stole from the camp store, she slipped out one night, knowing no one would miss her.
The night was a disorienting, causing the fourteen year old traitor to get lost in the woods just outside of camp. Despite this, she continued. After several days, she IMed Luke, asking how to get out of where she was. Luke told her to stay put, someone would come get her.
Her sixteenth birthday rolled around, but there as no one to wake her up early, yelling happy birthday at her. She'd lost this, as well as many others, when she joined Kronos's army.
Instead, she climbed down from her bunk, careful to not disturb the girl sleeping below her, and rummaged through her trunk, looking for some clothes. A black t-shirt, and a pair of dark jeans were what the trunk revealed, along with her sneakers, she was ready for another day of training.
At least now, she wasn't at the bottom of the later. She had a small group of demigods that she controlled, even though they disliked her harsh treatment, but Miranda wasn't as bad as some of the others who had become enamoured with the power they'd been given. Miranda never made her group train on weekends, nor for six straight hours. She had learned a great deal, including the fact that if she allowed them some freedom, they'd train harder so she wouldn't take the freedom away.
Luke had come and watched her several times, and approved of her methods. There had been one boy once who had thrown a knife at Miranda's head as she turned away, Luke had frowned but didn't interfere. The knife had missed by an entire foot. With an annoyed look, Miranda had turned around and ordered the boy who threw it to the target range. He wasn't accurate enough, and that his freedom was taken away for a week. He would be forced to train all weekend, under the supervision of Miranda, who had to give up her own time to do so.
After she released her demigods, Miranda seeing how sick Luke looked, took him back inside, and ordered him to eat some soup, then go rest, as he was going to need it. It wasn't really Luke anymore, more Kronos, but still he listened. Maybe Kronos had seen her logic, or maybe he'd been planning to anyway.
During the battle, Miranda had lost track of everyone she knew. Luke/Kronos had left for Olympus, and her group was gone, dead or alive, she didn't know, all she knew were the trail of bodies behind her. She felt guilty about the lives of the kids she'd injured, having not killed any of them, only incapacitated.
When she reached the empire state building, the fighting going on was worse then every where else. She'd quickly became engaged in battle with a tall boy, a mop of sandy blonde hair, just like her own, and blue eyes, also just like hers, it took her minutes before she realised she was fighting Connor. Connor Stoll.
She fought harder against him, since he had also realised who she was, and clearly wanted to kill her.
The battle lasted minutes, then finally, it ended. A sword was sticking out of Miranda's stomach. The pain was on overload, and her own sword fell from her hand. Connor, a horrified look graced his face, drew his sword out, allowing more blood to gush from the wound. Her hands covered it, and quickly became stained red. She fell to the sidewalk on her knees, Connor still staring at her. Miranda coughed, and more blood came out.
She looked up at Connor, tears falling freely from her blue eyes. I'm so sorry, she had whispered before collapsing to the ground, her eyes glazing over.
Connor only wasted a minute to close his little half-sister's eyes, whisper something in her ear, before he ran off.
Miranda's body joined the huge count of people who were once thought of as traitors. Here, they were no longer traitors; they were just misguided kids who had no one to turn to. And Miranda had followed in their steps.
She appeared, along with many others, in a small cramped office, with a man dressed in black suit, and wearing dark shades, sitting behind a desk. He was arguing with some girl with brown hair, and angry brown eyes. As Miranda walked up, the man groaned. He did not want to deal with this.
Soon though, with the promise of trying to convince someone to up his salary, Miranda was cramped in a boat with a bunch of other half-bloods. She peered at each face, hoping that she wouldn't recognize anyone. She didn't.
Soon, they disembarked from the boat, and filed into lines. Miranda just joined the fast one, where she would end up in the Fields of Asphodel. She wanted to forget her life, she hadn't done anything worthwhile, she didn't deserve to be anywhere else, and forgetfulness seemed the most appropriate for her.
Her first look at the Fields of Asphodel, she noted how dull, and blah it was, but for some reason it soothed her, and she then settled in, ready to spend eternity here.
A/N: This is the result of me sleeping all day, then being bored at three in the morning.
Thanks to the people who read this before hand, and to Sky, who was able
to tell me what Luke's last name was when I forgot.
Anywho, review, please, I'd love to know what you think of this,
whether it be good, or horrible, I don't mind.
