I sat calmly, letting the mouse climb up my arm and perch on my shoulder. It licked at my tears and ran back down. As it did, I coughed, spitting up warm, sticky red fluid.

I'm Annabeth Zatsune. I have waterfalls of long black hair, pale skin, one red eye, one blue eye, and I'm dying. I'm not supposed to live past my eighteenth birthday. That's why I was crying.

We'd known since I was born that there was something wrong. I was always coughing or hacking, having dizzy spells, doubling over in pain, and passing out when I over-exerted myself. But I recently started to cough up blood. The doctors said that there was something wrong with my insides. Tests said that my internal organs weren't growing fast enough, going much slower, so I didn't get enough vitamins, fluids, and other much needed things for a fourteen-year-old girl.

We lived in the middle of nowhere. Our backyard was enormous, a huge, rolling, hill-filled meadow. It had flowers, a small wood, and a large pond. There was plenty for me to do. I frequently did my black-belt exercises, Tai Chi, and just strolled. But not today.

I sat in the meadow at the top of the tallest hill. I was wearing a leotard beneath my billowing white dress, just in case I wanted to do anything, but I didn't feel up to it. No one wants to do much after they're told they will die. So I just sat.

I looked up to the sky, tears streaming down my face. It was beautiful out, sun shining, birds singing, a breeze blowing softly against my cheek. The flowers smelled strongly, perfuming the air with their lovely scent. Small animals frolicked happily. Seeing it all angered me.

I jumped up. I tipped my head back to the heavens and yelled, "What did I do to deserve this? Haven't I always been good?"

As expected, I got no answer. The hot tears of regret ran down my face, making it wet and warm. I at least wanted a boyfriend… or someone that wasn't family… to love me before I died… But now that is impossible!

I sat back down, my head falling to my chest. As it did, my eyes alighted on a flower. It's head bobbed and bounced gaily in the breeze. It made the tears come faster. "Stop…" I whispered, my fist clenching on the grass as I glared at the red blossom. It kept dancing. "Stop it." I ordered, gritting my teeth. When it didn't stop, I snatched the flower off of it's stem and ripped it to shreds. I let them go to scatter on the ground.

The red strips of petal settled on the ground sadly, looking as though some massive furry green creature was bleeding. I only wept harder now, seeing what I'd done. It was sad. I'd just killed a beautiful thing for no reason. Because of my anger. Was I deteriorating mentally as well?

I sat down slowly. "I'm… I'm sorry. I didn't mean it." I said pathetically. I picked more flowers, gently and sadly, weaving them into crowns and ropes and bracelets. I took off my sandals and slipped a few on my ankles, put some on my wrists, a couple crowns on my head, and wrapped the long chains around myself. I trailed down to the pond to see my reflection.

It was a sharp contrast. My black hair didn't match the beautiful dress or the pretty chains draped around my body. Carefully, I took two chains and made my twin pony-tails, using the chains to bind them in place. It looked a lot better. But the large red stains around my mouth and down the front of my dress made it look a little ironic. Like a death angel trying out the clothes of her counter-part, I smiled. I could practically see great big feathery white wings.

I drifted back up the hill. Upon reaching the top, I didn't sit. I instead twirled around and around, singing Crime and Punishment, a Hatsune Miku song, softly to myself. I was smiling and singing a song about suicide while I was dying, wearing my pretty dress and flowers. I was a small butterfly with a ripped wing, looking for a samurai that didn't exist to lift me up to protection.

I stopped, feeling dizzier than I should have after slowly spinning in wide circles. I sat down, my head spinning. I felt sick, and coughed up more blood. I fell back onto my back, waiting for the spell to pass. But it didn't. I felt worse and worse.

I heard a loud creak, so I sat up. A large black door was opening up in front of me. I stood up. The door of Death. It's my time already. Damn doctors, never get anything right. I walked willingly into the door, letting it take me. It hurt, but isn't Death supposed to?