Graveyard Petals

She knows not why she has come here, nor even who she is, in this shadowed world.

Disclaimer: Percy Jackson and the Olympians belong to Rick Riordan and the other copyright holders, I make no money off of this. I'm just having lots of fun. And the opening quotes? Those belong to whoever said them first.

Author's Notes: This story uses the old plot idea from Eidolon, which is why it's so similar. This has been a very research-extensive story. I hope I did everything right. Please do not jump all over me if I slip up on something, I'm not going for complete and total accuracy; I'm going for a story you can enjoy. I did purposely abuse certain tidbits of info.


Prelude

"I do not know who these mute folk are
That share this unlit place with me—"
-Ghost House,
Robert Frost


Her hand is pale, bone-white, and slim, resting outlined by the starched white sheets of her bed. She is clothed in a hospital gown, and a medical chart hangs at the foot of the bed, listing her name and medical history, as well as why she is here.

She is sleeping, stringy hair fanned out upon the pillow. Her expression is tight, exhausted, and unfamiliar to the visage of one so young.

Then, she stirs, murmuring in her sleep. Words and images pierce her eyes, which open only slightly and then shut tight, as shafts of light, blurred, gray, and unfocused. The words she speaks, which stick stubbornly to her tongue, speak of something forbidden to her—of home, of the place she used to know.

Memories stir sleepily within her mind, before pulling the sheets over their own heads, not willing to awaken. Instead, a false past will play within her mind, when she is asleep and when she is awake. She babbles of it constantly, and what a world it seems to be. But it cannot be real.

She knows not why she has come here, nor even who she is, in this shadowed world.