A little girl's spirit sat curled up with her knees to her chest. The walls were closing in on her - the sturdy pine tree that enclosed the little girl.
She didn't understand it, one moment the pain was unbearable as she lay broken and defeated on the floor while Luke and little Annabeth got away.
But the next moment was dark. The young girl could still hear Luke's cries for help, Annabeth's sobs, her own howling screams. It was as if she were having an outer body experience - except the walls were closing in and her chest was heaving and she was just a spirit.
Had she died? No. Death had to be far kinder than this. It wasn't how she had pictured it, during the attacks and during the hard, cold, unforgiving nights when Beryl passed out cold.
The sounds had stopped now, the cries and the pleas and the screams. All that she could hear now was the downpour of rain.
She couldn't remember much now, it was fading with her strength as her head fell to rest against the misty vision that was her legs.
It should be better, She thought. Death.
Just as her eyes fell shut and Morpheus started to claim her - no, not Thantos, but that's who it felt like - she managed to remember one thing besides the names of those she had loved.
Thalia Grace
Yep. Just me posting things while procrastinating my stories...