Hey y'all writer's block sucks. And, this...this is to keep my series going. I need inspiration. Consider this an open box for ideas. Don't put something stupid. That is not the point of this series.

A foul taste still lingers on my tongue. I don't know how long it will take to fade, but I hope it's soon. The taste of iron and something else are driving my senses insane. I can't see. It's all a blur. I can't feel. I'm numb to the touch. Where somewhere touches my skin I feel nothing, so I don't know what's going on around me. It's unfair. I'm not even sure how this happened.

I shouldn't be where I am. It's dark and all I can see is a long line of people that look like me in a way that is totally different from anything I've ever seen. They all glow with this bit of blue light that I never thought could be real. Why? Because we are glowing, I can see that. But, we aren't illuminating light any farther then our skin. That's when I realize we're all transparent. No, we don't have skin; we're like films. Our ski is as thin and as transparent as a window.

I come to the front of the line and, what seems to be a ghost, looks me over warily. It was as if this one particular ghost had to do this all day and was tired of it. He looks down at a clipboard and sighs. "You died young." I realize he's southern at that point. His drawl makes it apparent. Then I realize he's in a Confederate uniform.

I opened my mouth as if to answer the man with a, "Duh." But, instead it's a whispered of nothing. It comes out pointless and useless to the man who could clearly speak normally.

"Killed, murder," the man mutters flipping through a few pages. "It's really unfortunate what this war has done to the world above." He continues to speak as if I can actually get in on the conversation like a normal human. Which obviously I'm not.

Wait, he said war… When I was alive I could've sworn there had been no war. No, we had a rather peaceful world, other than stupid inner political crap. We hadn't started any war with any country and I was sure no one had tried to start a war with us.

"Hmmm… That's a better way to go then some of these people." He says thoughtfully looking at his clipboard. "Just take a look." He continues in his thick drawl. The ghost motioned with his hand back to the people behind me. I turn just slightly to see people with ghostly swords sticking from their illuminant forms. The weapons of old ages seemed to have destroyed these people, and they didn't seem to mind at all. They just looked around curiously smiling in content as if they were happy with how they left the world.

"Heroes. Every one of them." The ghost grinned. "I suppose you are too, but you didn't do much to defend Olympus." The man in front of me draws my attention forward. He opened a special velvet rope like he's some kind of bouncer and waves me on through. "Good luck getting that poison aftertaste out of your mouth." That's when it hits me. I know exactly why I'm here. I know exactly when and how I died.

My friends and I are heading down to the hotel to meet some cute vacationers and get some sun. To get both all we would have to do is lay in the sun by the pool. We've done this a ton of times every summer that I've lived here. I didn't grow up here, so it's not like I live my life by this one pool looking for cute guys.

This particular day it seemed like the guys around the pool were hitting on every one of my friends, but not me. That never happened. I was always the first one they went to and then when they were turned down they would go to my friends.

I thought I had smeared eye liner or something, so I told my friends I was going to the poolside bar and left them. I fished for the mirror in my bag and pulled out the small bit of reflective glass. My make-up wasn't smudge. I looked like my normal self. I always looked like this when I came to the pool. So why wasn't any guy coming near me?

The glass slipped from my hand and hit the ground. "Well shit…" I muttered bending down to pick it up. A guy's hand shot out in front of me picking up the mirror for me. A gasp escaped my mouth and I almost fell onto my butt. The guy caught my hand and smiled at me.

His smile was gorgeous. He had beautiful teeth and he was perfectly calm and composed as he set me back on my feet. He had this beautifully shaggy sandy colored hair. I couldn't help but notice how sculpted his chin and cheeks were yet he still had dimples when he flashed that smile.

"Sorry I scared you." He said with a husky voice that I somewhat expected from his looks. "I was just trying to help you out. I saw you drop your mirror." He let my arm loose slowly and then handed me my mirror. "My name's Samuel. Samuel Fondeil."

"Hi." I blushed turning away from him and continuing toward the bar. I never gave my name because that's a death wish. Once they know your name then they'll never leave you alone. I asked for a virgin strawberry daiquiri as I sat down at the bar.

"I'll be paying for hers." Samuel Fondeil said sitting down next to me.

"Thanks." I smiled at him. He seemed different. He wasn't like the other guys hanging around the pool. He didn't belong. I got my drink and turned to Samuel as I took the first sip. "So why are you being so nice to me?" I could've slapped myself right there. It was so stupid to be forward.

"You seem like a nice girl." He told me. He looked over at the beach behind us and smiled as the sun started to set. "Bring your drink and let's go for a walk out there on the beach." It wasn't a question. It was a statement.

Though my gut told me that the assertiveness of his statement was dangerous I shut my gut up and took my drink with me as we headed for the sands. Samuel kept his hands in his pockets as he walked. I didn't think anything of it. I had met shy boys. They would stay a distance away and they wouldn't look you in the eyes. But, the only thing that bothered me was that he didn't seem like that kind of boy.

It really was an awkward walk. We just walked and said nothing. Never had I been speechless in a male's presence. But, my stomach was churning in upset. My fingers twitched nervously and my hand shook as I brought my glass to my lips.

My phone went off in my purse and I started to dig through my bag. Samuel offered to take my drink and I thanked him handing him the glass as I continued to dig through all my crap. I finally found my phone and opened it to press to my ear. "Hello?" I said into the phone. The dial tone filled my ear and I huffed in annoyance. "They hung up." I took my drink back and took a sip. "Sorry, that was rude."

"No, no, it's perfectly fine. I realize you must have a lot of people you talk to." Samuel said sadly.

"I didn't recognize the number. It was probably a wrong number." I assured him touching his arm. I started to cough and I had to stop walking completely. Samuel looked at me worriedly as I set down my bag. He took the drink from me again and smiled as I went to my knees.

"You won't help them now." He hissed evilly.

"What – what are you – talking about?" I hacked looking up at him.

"You know. You really shouldn't use cell phones. They attract monsters." He dumped the drink in front of me as I continued to cough and then walk away.

"Help! Someone – please!" I called still coughing. I realized I was in the middle of no where as I fell into the sand and closed my eyes as the numbness took over. The fowl taste hadn't been apparent until the drink was gone. My tongue was dry. And, I my life force wilted until it was nothing.

I now remember exactly how I died. Once I figured it out the fowl taste left my mouth. I walked a long path to a large gate. As they opened I was welcomed by the ghostly faces of those like me. They were all like me. Dead. Yet, I felt as if I didn't belong.

—Rachelle Mandela, daughter of Aphrodite