Shooting Star

I got inspired. I don't own PJO by the way.

Thalia knows that it's useless, of course it is. It never works.

Shooting stars are the things that comfort 5 year-olds with ridiculous dreams of fairy-tale like futures that are never going to happen. That 5-year-old used to be her once.

Hell, it still is. Only now, she has no idea how old she is.

Thalia says she's 16, she looks like she's 16, but she knows she's not. She stopped counting after everyone died. It's too painful, the reminder that they were all dead but she's still there, slowly dying inside. Luke left her first, she faced the reality of that a long time ago, reminders are not necessary anymore. Percy went too, dying naturally (for her, Percy will always be the awkward little idiot who was the first person she opened her eyes to and most times wanted to smack). Annabeth was perhaps the hardest to let go, her little Annie with a head of blonde hair and a brave, brave smile. Nico died, clutching his aviator jacket that doesn't fit him anymore and smiling as all his friends gathered around him (they were all crying, but he was smiling). Jason got a heart attack way too strong for his old body (Thalia felt weird, being a teenager while going to the hospital and meeting a 80 year old man who still has the same lightning eyes and kind smile, but not much else, thinking, my little brother's sick). Piper had died last out of the seven, something she had always joked about with Thalia. ("I'll keep you company. Believe me, I know how boring Jason gets after a while."And then she had ducked instinctively at the dishtowel Jason had thrown at her, "Love you too, babe!") Reyna, after raising her own family in New Rome with a mortal, and years later, Rachel. The last draw was Grover, he went into eternal sleep with Juniper and his children on his left, his rasta cap and reed pipe on his right. That was a month ago. She was 113.

Thalia feels lonely sometimes, like now, when the adrenaline fades and the victories in the day are forgotten. When it's late at night and she's alone in her tent and she just wants to open her eyes and see someone that she used to know long ago. Hell, even Drew would be okay, and Thalia hated Drew's guts with the passion that Drew hated a bad outfit. But she knows that if she opens her eyes, they wouldn't be there, so she seals them closed and thinks of all the people, pulling out faded and blurred memories from a box in her brain labeled "There Is No Way I'm Going To Cry". Sometimes, when she closes her eyes, she feels like all the things she has left are memories and ghosts of a strange girl's life far away.

She feels angry, too. Angry at herself for not saving Luke when there was still a chance, angry at the gods for not saving him, angry at him for going to the other side. Angry at herself for being here, angry at her friends for leaving her (it's not their fault, she knows that, but it's nice not blaming herself for a change). Angry at herself for being whiny, for being soft, something that she knows that her teenage self would be mad at.

(She can't be sure though. She's forgotten too much of her old life and created too little of a new life she had wanted.)

And she feels knows that she was never supposed to feel old; she's supposed to be a huntress, immortalized maiden, young forever. At the same time, she knows that if she wasn't a huntresses, she would be another old lady with an attitude that just doesn't match and weird obsessions with what is now counted as"old bands". It was a living paradox. Then she takes a look at the new recruits, the new huntresses, and she's suddenly reminded of Zoe. Did Zoe feel old when everyone was talking in a new way she has never heard of? When she had to ask, "What? I've never heard of that word before". Or maybe when she tells the new girls about her favorite band, Green Day, or drags a bit of unnecessary "ancient references" into her dialogue, and they just look at her like she was a bag of bad-tasting chips from Europe that they've never heard of. She feels bad for Zoe, and she knows what scullion means now. Zoe once called her a scullion, and Thalia would give everything to resurrect her, even if it's just to call her that back and have Zoe insult her on the subject of her originality. If Thalia thinks back (too dangerous; warning: tears ahead), she would know that she respects Zoe: they would have been pretty amazing friends.

But mostly, she knows she's just confused. Just a confused, conflicted 16 year-old who doesn't know how to take on that much responsibility, that much grief.

Thalia wants a lot of things. She wants her laugh to be filled with joy again, not the hollow, empty sound she keeps hearing when she's alone. She wants her sarcasm back, it helped to deal with everything and shoved things away for the next day. (But that's the way it's always going to work: the next day and the next and the next until she's as broken as any monster she had ever speared apart in the gut.) The only thing Thalia really wants though, are her friends. She wants Luke to lean on on a rainy day. She wants Annabeth to baby, even though she could take care of herself just fine when she was 7. She wants Percy to bite sarcastic comments on, and then she can try to convince him that air disasters are better than those pitiful tsunamis. (Nico can come too, just while they're at it.) Zapping him with lightning would be a major convincing factor. She wants Grover to show her that there is still hope and enchiladas left in the world. She wants to go with Nico and sneak into a rock concert, put on her best makeup, get carried in the waves of excitement and just be in the moment. Just have one moment to look back to and think, "That was fun, I want to do it again." Something that she can't remember ever having.

Thalia was originally going to report to Lady Artemis about that day's events (nothing out of the ordinary, plain old), but then she saw a shooting star pass by on the sky, winking it's way towards the ground, letting out a brilliant shower of fireworks.

She hasn't seen a shooting star in such a long time.

In some ways, it symbolizes the life she wants but never had.

I want my friends, I want the old me, I want my life back. So she closes her eyes and lets the meteorite explode behind her eyelids.

Swish. A wish made, another one plunged and doused into the sea.

Thalia opens her eyes again and smiles, feeling a bit of her old self ignite in her heart. A tear slid down. She continues to smile and forces out a laugh, just a little soft, tinkling sound, feeling the tide in her finally settle. Then she laughs until it doesn't feel forced any more.

What am I doing? Such a softie.

I'm so proud of myself! Anyways, this is my first posted one-shot that's more than 1000 words (which is pathetic), but while I was writing this, it made me cry. So...reviews are very welcomed!