Disclaimer for all chapters:I don't own Percy Jackson that honour belongs to Rick Riordan
Grey, grey,grey oh look a slightly darker shade of grey. I will tell you something there are way more than 50 shades of grey, in my time here I have made up names for over 487…make that 488 I'll call this one campfire-grey-but-slightly-darker-than-pebble-grey grey.
My vision was just plagued by grey everything and I was sick of it! A grey sky lurked over the field, fat and unnatural,grey wilted poplar trees studded the landscape, with grey broken stalagmites creating grey hazards in the grey world and grey wheat stalks that looked just a decrepit as the grey inhabitants of said grey field. Ah yes the inhabitants, the zombies,the ghouls,los fantasmas,the ghosts were the worst aspect of this Hell. They were inconsiderate always walking through me, boring and worst of all grey.
I always thought the afterlife would be at least slightly more interesting maybe a theme park, endless supplies of food, books, a decent conversationalist, I don't know maybe having a joyous reunion with my dead loved ones while skipping through a field of flowers with violins playing in the background! But no I was forced to wonder a freaking grey wheat field from fucking Kansas for eternity.
The smell of BBQ wafted over from 'Party central', laughter could be heard from behind the gilded walls as I wondered through the fields. I hated that laughter, bastards the lot of them. Whenever I tried to walk over there the fugly bat harpies would appear, screeching and hissing and waving around their whips like some sort of demented helicopter till I returned to my afterlife of the wheat field. Joy.
I don't know how long I have been here, I lost count after 20 something years, its been a while since I lost count. But what was weird was the clothes of the dead ghost, I could not find for the life of me…. I mean could not find for the AFTERlife of me find someone with 21st century clothing, it was all togas and hoop skirts and cravats and top hats. There was no chucks or leather jackets or hoodies to be seen hell I couldn't find any tied dyed shirts or sneakers! I would of thought there would have been at least some sneakers. But no, from what I could see of the apparent dress code I was stuck in hell in the 1940's or something. We had gone through the 20's and there where a couple of dead soldiers but I couldn't tell if they where from WW1 or 2. But I have chalked it up to me being placed in the wrong section or something. Right?
Regardless of the disturbing thought of being in the past and in the underworld the thing I hate most was there was no one to talk. If I tried to start a conversation with one they would just stare blankly at me like a blob fish,groan then float through me.
It was official I hated begin dead. I can't even remember my name or how I died! It was weird the important things of my past life like my family and friends are starting to fade but the most useless facts remain clear as day like the fact that I loved broccoli and had an obsession with sour skittles but hated chocolate. That I loved dogs and had a pet snake called Smudge but despised birds with a passion. I could even remember by favourite book series but I couldn't remember my family or anything about my personality! I could remember things I liked or disliked but not why. I couldn't remember any defining memories and aren't our personalities defined my our environment and interaction? If I couldn't even remember those then who was I? It frustrated me and I hated the memories I did have I felt like I was betraying my family and friends by remembering such useless facts.
No one else in 'Perpetually Grey wheat field' seemed to remember anything. They would look at me with lifeless eyes and yes I realise they…we are dead but it was like they have never lived at all, no memories of who they were, just a reflection of the person they once is the thing that scares me most is that I will eventually forget everything that defines me as me, that I will end up another mindless grey ghost wondering a grey field endlessly.
I try so hard to keep myself, singing every song I can remember, describing things that I do remember. Commenting on absolutely everything and trying to find someone like me,someone that remembered. It was during one of my daily singing seasons that it happened.
I was cartwheeling forward singing, regardless of the ghost blocking my way, I have to entertain myself somehow, when it happened the momentous, stupendous, supercalifragilisticexpialidocious, fantastic event. Someone spoke.A sentence, a sentence made up of glorious english!
"Do you mind, Im trying to get over the fact I'm dead here!"
I don't think you understand how ground breaking this is, I have been subjected to listening to only moans and blank stares for my entire afterlife. The harpies and the judge dudes who put me hear (haven't done anything worth while in my life my ass, I will have you know I ran a half marathon,for charity!) being the only people I have heard speak. The 'human' part is subjective cause the bat-things, I think they called themselves Furies, do not classify as human and the judges are freaking a-holes. I guess you could count the laughter from party central but their bastards too for not sharing their BBQ.
Anyway some spoke, a ghost spoke, a ghost from the Kansas wheat field. You can probably deduce I was shocked which makes my consequent face plant completely excusable. Quickly picking myself up, one of the benefits of being dead is the fall didn't hurt, and turned towards the voice like a dog who is going to get a piece of jerky.
It was a girl, but she wasn't a grey like the other ghosts or me, she had colour although it was dim. She was crouched on the ground her arms wrapped tightly around her legs glaring up at me through thick black hair.
I think me staring at her like a guppy got on her nerves for I was snapped out of my observations by her angry voice.
"What are you looking at? Stupid ghost."
I was mildly offend from that statement but it was quickly squashed by my amazement that she was actually talking!
"You..you..you're not grey" I managed to stutter out whilst jumping up from my kneeling position. She looked at me with a mixture of confusion and anger that I had interrupted her depression with such a retarded comment. Good going the first human you meet that isn't grey and can actually talk and you mess it up.
Then the girl seemed to realise that I had talked because the next thing I knew she lunged at me with wonder and desperate hop in her eyes. I braced my self for the awful feeling of having someone go through you. But she didn't I could feel her strong grip on my arms. We both stared done at her hands in amazement.
"You can touch me"
"I can touch you"
Mirroring grins stretched across our faces, finally someone that can fill my grey existence with colour.
I had to know, know if she could remember her life like me, maybe I wasn't completely alone anymore.
"Do..do you remember?"
She fervently nodded her head still staring at her hands on my arms.
"Do you remember your name?"
It was then that the girl finally look up at me. I dimly noted that she had gold eyes.
"Hazel my name is Hazel Levesque"
