Chapter 22

Annabeth crouched behind the windowsill of the South Window. She had fled to the fifth floor, her lips still tingling. She couldn't believe she had had the nerve to kiss Percy, but she did it before she realized what was happening. And of course, she had to look cooler about the whole situation than him. As she crouched, she peered over the window slightly, watching Percy talk to the villagers. He stood at the bottom of the hill, waving his arms wildly as he spoke to them. What was he saying?

Leaning up against the wall, Annabeth groaned. She couldn't look at the villagers anymore. Percy would stop them. She was sure. Whatever they were planning, Percy would help her. He had promised.

But what if he doesn't? said a small voice in her head. What if he can't? You should get out of the house. You should run.

Annabeth shook her head to clear it. She was not abandoning her mansion. She was not leaving her home, even though…

She glared pointedly at the walls, a sudden though occurring to her. "What have you ever done for me, though? Why should I save you?" she said sharply to them.

The walls didn't reply. Annabeth kicked one of them. "This house has done nothing for me! It just made me remember. It just gave me false hope, and –"

Annabeth squinted her eyes as she noticed a small piece of paper on the floor in the doorway. It most certainly hadn't been there when she entered the room. She walked slowly over to it, crouched down, and gingerly picked it up. It was a piece of stationary, eerily similar to the kind she kept under her mattress in case of an emergency. Scrawled upon the paper where the words, And it gave you Percy. The words fit perfectly with her rant. And the handwriting wasn't hers at all.

She dropped the paper like it burned and quickly backed away, never taking her eyes off of it. It gave me false hope, and it gave me Percy. The walls… She had been talking to the walls. Had they answered? Or had it been something else? Annabeth never would have admitted it to Percy, but she had been entertaining the idea of the Ghost Girl ever since she found the documents in the Library. Was the note…?

She slapped her hand on her forehead. She was going insane. Absolutely insane. There was no such thing as ghosts. She was probably imagining the paper, too. It wasn't there. It wasn't real. "Come on, Annabeth, come on," she muttered, beginning to pace.

Glancing back at the paper on the ground, she wrung her hands together. No ghost. No Ghost Girl of Violet Hill. Not really, anyways. She was the Ghost Girl.

She blinked. To her horror, another paper had appeared next to the first note in the short time that her eyes had been shut. Her hands began to shake. "Hello?" she called. "Who's there? Percy, is that you? Cut it out, this isn't funny!" Despite the fact that she was inwardly terrified, she quickly snatched up the second note. This time, the same handwriting displayed a much more lengthy message.

I have done so much for you, Annabeth. You've always known I was there, haven't you? You just never wanted to believe it. You don't have to be scared of me. I'm your friend. That's all I ever wanted, you know. A friend. You gave me one. I got to watch you and Percy. You chose my mansion as your home. For that, I thank you. When the time comes that your darkest hour has arrived, I will assist you. When my darkest hour arrives, I'm afraid you won't be awake to witness it. Just remember me when my mansion is gone.

-Carly Jacobson

Annabeth choked, covering her mouth with her hand. Carly Jacobson. That was the name of the girl who was murdered here. It was the name of the Ghost Girl. A gut instinct told Annabeth that this wasn't some kind of sick joke. That made her all the more terrified.

"How?" she cried out. "How have I been your friend? I-" Talked to the walls, didn't you, Annabeth? And who had listened? The whole time, she was never really talking to the walls. She was talking to the Ghost Girl. And the Ghost Girl, Carly, told the truth- Annabeth had noticed little things, all over the place. Noises she dismissed for squirrels living in the house, things lying around that she convinced herself she had previously misplaced and forgotten about. Because, she didn't believe in supernatural occurrences. She hadn't.

She shivered. "What do you mean my darkest hour? And why will I be asleep during yours? How do you even know?" No note appeared to explain.

Annabeth gasped. For years, it had been this way… "Carly," she whispered. Then the whole world went black.

Annabeth blinked open her eyes to see red. And orange. A little bit of blue in there, too. It took her a moment to realize that she was sprawled out on the wooden planked floor. Smoke was wafting up from a small hole in the floor. When did that get there? she thought. What happened?

She crawled over to the hole, which appeared to go down to the third floor. The third floor, which was drowning in flames. Annabeth cried out. Fire! Had the Ghost Girl – Carly – cause it? No, it couldn't be. She claimed to be Annabeth's friend. So what was it?

Annabeth scampered to the door and flung the door open, racing outwards. She clambered down the stairs and screamed as a flaming beam fell in her path, sparks and ash flying up from it. As she coughed, her eyes searched desperately for an escape. She knew this house inside and out. The problem was, the fire surrounded her like a wall. She couldn't see passed the red. She couldn't hear over the pounding of her heart in her ears.

"Carly!" she screamed, choking on the smoke. "Where are you?"

She tried her best to crouch down to the ground, narrowly avoiding another portion of the roof as it caved in. The heat was so intense that she felt like she was already burning, though she was nowhere near the flames. Her knees were scratched through her jeans as she crawled towards the door. Uncontrollably coughing from the smoke, she reached up to grab the door handle. The hot metal burned her skin like acid.

Annabeth cried out and crouched down, clutching her injured hand to her chest. She couldn't jump out one of the windows. For one thing, she was much too high up. For another, the glass in the window was sharp and jagged. She would bleed to death before she reached the ground.

Percy. Where was he? Was he okay? It dawned on Annabeth that the villagers must have started the fire. But how? How had they caused an explosion, or caused it to spread like it was? One of the old rotten photo frames on the wall fell down, causing a large crash to sound through the air. All of her pictures in her room were probably burning now. Every memory she had of Luke, of Malcolm, of her family, was gone. Even her only picture of her birth mother. All that was left was the locket she clutched in her uninjured hand.

In your darkest hour, I will assist you. The words came back to Annabeth like a dream. "It's… It's my d-darkest hour!" she cried hoarsely into the flames. "I don't think it can get much worse than this! If you're here, if you're listening, please!" The house would collapse any minute.

"Annabeth!" It was Percy! She heard his voice call her name, but it seemed so distant. She tried to answer, but smoke filled her chest, and she began violently coughing. Where are you? she begged silently. Her lungs were screaming for clean air. She felt the smoke fill her, penetrate her, use her. She collapsed on the floor, feeling a strange sense of déjà vu.

Percy, she thought. Help me, please!

Her eyes began to slowly close and she coughed again. No Ghost Girl was coming. This is it, she thought. I'm going to die. A sound like a rush of wind greeted her ears. Slowly, she forced her eyelids up, the smoke stinging her eyes to the point of tears. A thought flitted through her mind- The dream. You dreamed about this.

Through the tears and the smoke, she saw a silver light. It seemed to be radiating from a young girl who stood at the center of it. Her skin was so pale it seemed transparent – or maybe it was. Her dark hair fell into mangled curls at her shoulders, and her gray eyes were filled with a hollow sorrow. She looked so heartbroken that Annabeth wanted to hug her. Darkness shrouded Annabeth's vision. "Carly?" she whispered. The girl nodded sadly.

"I'm sorry, Annabeth." A small, whispery voice floated through the smoke to the coughing girl on the ground. "I'm so sorry."

A sudden sensation came over Annabeth. She was flying. Or was she floating? Her eyes were closed, and they couldn't seem to open. She was definitely floating. Or… now, she was falling, down, down, down, through the ground to the other side of the earth. She felt solid ground touch her back and she felt something pass through her, like she was stepping through a cloud.

"Live on for me, Annabeth Chase," the whispery voice requested.

Suddenly, she felt Percy right next to her. "Annabeth?" he coughed. "W-where did you come from?"

She gasped, realizing that she was no longer inhaling smoke. She opened her eyes to confirm this, but when she did, the smoke was back and stronger than ever. She felt the heat begin to singe the ends of her hair.

"Annabeth," Percy whispered, staring at her. "Your eyes."

"My… my eyes?" she choked out. The flames were so intense that Annabeth broke out into a sweat.

"They're gray," said Percy, horrified.

Annabeth felt the weight of these words on her. She tried to stay awake, tried to keep her eyes open, but the darkness was just too tempting. She closed her eyes and allowed her conciousness to slip away.

'Kay guys, Ghost Girl is almost over. Like I said before, I do have a sequel planned. The main point in Ghost Girl was to broaden the relationship between Percy and Annabeth. The main point of the sequel? Answers :D Anyways, this story's got about 2 chapters left + an epilogue.

Today's theme song is one I picked out myself for Hazel!

Gold by Britt Nicole

Hehehe.

Thank you for all of your amazing-ness! I have fans! *mental freakout*

-Rebel