The hot African sun burned my already blistering back. My feet felt more and more like cement blocks the further I tried to walk. My throat was painfully dry and I had run out of water days ago.
My feet were still vainly trying to move my feeble body forward.
I barely felt my body hit the burning hot sand. It felt more like a dream than anything else.
I lay curled up on the desert floor. The sun was burning brightly and I knew I had, but minutes left.
My mind was going foggy, I saw darkness through my bloodshot eyes. Would death be peaceful? I hoped so. I hoped it would be cool as well, oh yes, a cold, peaceful, dreamless sleep. That's exactly what I need.
I had no idea why I had agreed to go with my friends on this desert expedition. I knew that the people I considered friends had run off without me a week ago, or was it more, I really didn't know.
The sun assaulted my sleepless eyes. I tried to crawl. Away from the sun, away from my hunger, away from my thirst, away from the harsh, unforgiving climate of the African desert.
A scream was ripped out of my raw throat. I couldn't move. I was going to die.
My grip on reality was slowly fading. I could not tell what was real and what was not (but I had a feeling that the purple unicorn was a mirage).
I could see a long tunnel of white light and smiled. At least I could get to Elysium.
Here lies Annabeth Chase,
Died at the young age of sixteen,
You will never be forgotten,
1998 - 2014.