Rain pounded in her head and poured down her back. It splashed heavily on her head; beads of water to large to be called droplets sliding down the long black hair. It fell into her eyes and her mouth and nose and ears, and she couldn't hear, or see, or smell, or taste anything but the rain…
She didn't care.
There comes a time in a person's life where they are so heartbroken they are physically torn, unable to move, unable to think of anything but the name of the one who caused such disaster.
The name going through the girl's – no, she was much more than a girl, she was a battle hardened warrior - mind at this moment was Jason Grace.
She was not some fool-hardy lovesick girl, feeling sorry for herself at the age of fourteen as her so – called boyfriend (though, really, they were too young to do anything, anyway) held the hand of some other, much prettier, equally stupid girl; instead, a regal queen, mourning the loss of her king, the protector and provider of the camp, and her life.
Was it fair that she must face such agony? No, but since when has she known fair? Her whole life, she has been abandoned and left out and angry and broken and everything a daughter of Bellona must hide. So, of course, she does, as it is her duty, but right now, as children and campers scream for her guidance, she abandons them as the abandoned her, and sits in the rain, her shoulders slumped and head bowed, incapable of moving as the beads of sweat, rain, and though she would deny it, tears, glide down her face, slowly ebbing away the dirt and blood stuck to her face.
She wants to scream, to let it all out, but she cannot. She wants to sob uncontrollably on his shoulder, but he isn't there. She wants to run away, but she has a duty to the men, women, and children that preside in the camp, and as a daughter of Bellona, she has no choice but to suck it up and move on, as her heart breaks and tears and shatters, and she simply puts on a brave smile and comes to the rescue again.
But this time, she's alone as she aids her friends.