The characters were quite happy that they've been left to their own devices and not being forced into a plot the author thought up for an entire two weeks. Alas, the author is an asshole, and insists on bending the characters to his will. The characters of course mutely protest.

Beachwood Avenue. Four years later.

I stared at my reflection in the mirror. Long straight blonde hair, serious grey eyes. I wasn't so skinny anymore, and had managed to get on with my life. I could even think about Percy again, which took a long time.

In all outer respects, I was back to normal. I had a husband, and I was five months pregnant. I had a job at an advertisement agency, where I made a decent amount of money for work I didn't find particularly strenuous.

I had a pet cat, a new house, and I had put the other side of myself behind me. It was a good thing that my mother was Wisdom; there were no outwards signs. I couldn't control the wind, water or sun. Not plants, fire or animals.

I was fine, and I was getting on with my life. And I tried to cling to it, desperately. I refused to let myself think about what happened before; I just wasn't at the point yet. As if they were recognizing my pain, monsters rarely ever attacked me. I was actually leading a relatively normal life.

Too bad that had to change.

I placed the hairbrush down on the vanity and walked out of the bathroom, checking the clock on the kitchen wall. I still had five minutes.

Grabbing a roll from the basket on the bench, I spread it lightly with cream cheese, munching it as I walked out of the house. I locked the door and walked to my car, which was parked on the street.

I pulled away from the kerb, towards the agency.

Once I was there, I was greeted with a whirlwind of papers, telephones and computers. Since I had thrown myself single-mindedly into my work, I had become actually quite important. Maybe they should advertise that on self-help books. There's nothing better for your productivity than having your boyfriend killed by the Titan Lord of Time!

I sat down in front of the computer in my office. This was the one personal effect in there. The computer from my old house. I had it fixed with a new screen, and then installed here. It reminded me that I once had other plans for my life.

The next few hours flew by as I worked feverishly for the new advertisement campaign for Starbucks. I actually didn't like Starbucks, but they were paying the company a huge amount of money, and this was one of the biggest clients we'd ever had.

I walked to the foyer, intent on a cup of coffee. I stood impatiently at the old machine as it spewed black sludge into a cup and then tried to make it redeemable with milk.

I sighed. Maybe Starbucks wasn't so bad. Walking back up to the office, I stared into the coffee.

What I saw made me drop the cup. As the coffee spilled down the stairs, staining the white with black-brown, I dropped to my knees.

I saw him in the cup of coffee, an exact likeness. And because I wasn't prepared for it, it had shocked me. I sat on my knees for another five minutes, wondering why my mind had picked today to give me visions, before I stood up, wiped my hands on my pants, which were thankfully black, and walked away. It was dishonest, but I didn't really want to explain why I'd dropped it.

I made it back to my office without incident and sat down at my computer, breathing heavily. The lights on my phone next to my keyboard were flashing, so I answered it to avoid thinking about what had just happened.

"Hey Brad," I said, thanking the gods for the immanent distraction.

"Hey darling," said the voice on the other end. "Just wanted to know whether you've decided anything for dinner tonight, since I've finished work."

Wishing it was it was an issue that would require a more lengthy conversation, I told him that I hadn't.

We talked for a little longer and then I folded the phone, hanging up. I liked Brad, maybe even loved him, but I just couldn't give a hundred percent. Maybe I could one day, but not now. Our relationship seemed to be going downhill, and it was all I could do not to be swept away and drowned in the current.

Brad was a son of one of the five wind Gods, the North one, I think. Because his potential power was split by five, he wasn't that powerful, so he could get away from the monster and mythology as well. We were happy together. Not perfect, but happy. And that's about all I could really look forward to.

At six o'clock, I headed home, pulling out of the company's underground parking lot and into the dying grey light. I thought about my day as I drove, especially about what had happened with the coffee. I thought more and more about it, until I couldn't stand it anymore, swinging the wheel as I took the next exit off the highway. It was cloudy as I drove off the exit ramp and onto the road leading to the beach, a few raindrops splattering off the windshield.

I felt terrible, the previous four years condensing together and crashing down on me, threatening to drown me in anger, sadness, and loneliness. I gasped as I held onto the steering wheel, and in some small part of my brain I wondered if that was what it was like to have a panic attack, and if so, should I really be driving? But it was pushed back by the torrent of other emotions that made me grip the steering wheel so hard my hands turned white.

I cut across three lanes of traffic, cars honking as I went onto the flyover and then off again, turning without indicating into the car park near the beach.

I parked it, leaving the ignition still running as I fumbled with the seatbelt, finally unclicking it and opening the door.

Without bothering to close it, I ran to the beach, sinking down into the sand and crying, ignoring the people around me as they stared concernedly.

I cried and cried, more than I had for years, cried for everything I had lost, and gained. It had started to rain, stinging drops splashing against my back as I burrowed into the sand, tears still streaming down my cheeks.

I don't know how long it took for the last tear to fall, but I was soaked and it was dark. I had thought visiting the place would make me feel better, but it hadn't. Instead, it felt like the hole in my chest had appeared again.

Wiping my eyes, I stood up and tottered over to the car, plonking on the seat and mindless of the sand I was getting all over the upholstery.

I closed the door, and put it into gear, headlights cutting swathes in the darkness as I backed out of the car park and onto the road.

To distract my mind, I thought of ways I was going to have to lie to Brad about this. It worked well, and occupied me all the way to my house.

OoO

Cool eyes watched the small white car as it pulled away from parking lot and onto the road. The owner stepped out of the surf, relieved to be free of the water it had been captivated in for so long.

Do not, under any circumstances, review just to tell me to update. Because frankly, it just pisses me off. Other than that, thanks for your continued support.