Hola! I know you guys all were looking forward to this! Again, I think it's different than what you expected, but I hope you'll like it. Now, I'm concerned about when I'll be able to update next. With luck I can write tomorrow evening. And then…I'll try to squeeze another in soon. See, my family is moving real soon into a house that's being built and we're doing a lot of painting this weekend and apparently this packing. I'll try hard guys. I know the timing sucks cuz this is the climax.

Anyhoo, most of you skipped this in anticipation anyways.

Disclaimer: …

READ ON!

When I regained consciousness my head was spinning and I felt like vomiting. I groaned and covered my face with my hands, effectively smack myself with the hilt of my sword. "Smooth, Lena," I muttered.

That when I heard the noise. It wasn't an odd noise, just the opposite. It was completely normal.

My eyes were still closed, but I listened intently. There was chatter, talking everywhere. And the car noises were restless.

"What the hell?" I said under my breath. I opened my eyes. When I did, I sprang up, my eyes darting all over the place. My eyes widened and my brows furrowed. "The hell is going on?" I said out loud. I tried to jump to my feet, but my wounds were still real and so was my nausea.

Why the frick was I back in New York City?

In front of Goode High.

I stood, slowly this time, the hand not holding my sword was pressed to my head. I looked around frantically. How did I get here? Last I remember…

I paused. Where was I last?

I remember sand. Water. A boy. With black hair and stunning blue eyes.

Named Zack.

It came flooding back like a tsunami. The Memory Monster. I was here because of the Memory Monster. I don't know why or how, but I know it's to blame.

"Come out you cowardice prick!" I shouted. No one around me even glanced my way, to my shock. I held my arms out. "No weird glances for the schizophrenic girl shouting at a monster who is late for its appointment?" No looks what so ever. I rolled my eyes. "Course not. Okay, this is weird, even for New York City."

That's when I heard the laugh and it sent shivers down my spine. There was nothing really special about it. It wasn't psychotic. It was a joyful laugh. Gleeful. There was even a snort in the middle of it. It was harmonized with a few other laughters.

What caught my attention was that it was my laughter.

I turned around, my eyes wide with horror and shock.

I saw the memory monster turn into myself, but a myself that was wounded. That was a very familiar me. The blaming Zack part…okay, that was off. But more horrifying than just flat out….strange, like the girl in front of me.

She was me alright. Same wild black hair and green eyes. Same height.

Except, there were no scars on her skin. No sadness in her eyes. Her hair was styled. And she wore make-up. Even red lipstick and mascara and eye liner. The whole sha-bang. A grimace appeared on my face. I would never wear make up.

I also would never wear what she was wearing. It was a casual, red, knit dress that had wide shoulders and was a bit too snug for my taste. It stopped just about her knees and wore black leggings. On her feet she wore, dear gods, heels. They were short heels, but heels none the less. My feet hurt just looking at her.

At either side there was a girl. On her left was a spunky looking blonde with curled hair and light makeup. She wore a yellow top that was far too cheery for my taste. She wore skinny jeans and black boots.

On her right was an African American girl with stick straight dark hair. She wore a black and white graphic tee, and black skinny jeans. On her feet she wore converses. She was definitely more my style.

I gripped my sword tight. "All right, you doppelganger bitch, you are going down."

That's when someone covered my eyes. Not my eyes. Her eyes.

I was getting a headache.

She jumped in surprise. If it had been me, the real me, that person would have been on the ground groaning in pain in three seconds flat.

I walked closer.

"Guess who?" A familiar voice asked behind her.

She laughed. "Oh, I don't know." She said flirtatiously.

My god. I sounded like the conceited, cliché bitches that I mocked. I rolled my eyes. Of course.

She pulled the hands away and turned around, smiling up at the blue eyes I adored. Zack.

"Well, the gang's all here." I muttered.

The fake me smiled and kissed him. I grimaced. Technically me or not, he was kissing someone else. Kinda. Even though technically it wasn't him.

Congrats headache, you have now been promoted to migraine.

The fake me and the fake Zack said goodbye to my fake friends. Fake Zack put his arm around fake me and kissed her forehead. She smiled and leaned into him.

I stalked them to the end of the school lot. Suddenly a little boy, no older than five, ran up to the fake me. He had straight blonde hair and gray eyes. The fake me smiled as the boy clung to her leg. "Hey, squirt." She said.

He smiled up. "Hi, Silena." He looked at Zack. "Hi."

Zack smiled and ruffled his head. "'Sup lil' Jackson."

I frowned. Jackson?

That's when an adult couple got out of a car. My breath caught and I felt tears sting my eyes. I walked forward, needing to be closer. "Mom?" I choked out. "Dad?"

They didn't even glance at me. Didn't notice me. "You're alive." I said. No sign that they heard me. "Look at me!" I shouted. "Goddamn it, look at me!"

No reaction.

I studied them. Like the fake me, they no longer had any scars. There was sadness in their eyes.

They looked happy. It made me smile through the tears.

The fake me smiled at them, in a way that was like a loving daughter, but one who didn't know what it was like to lose her parents. "Hey, mom. Hey, dad."

My mom kissed her forehead. "Hello, sweetheart."

"Hey, Silena." My dad said. He nodded at Zack in that friendly dad way that simultaneously said 'you hurt my daughter and I will end you'. "Hey, Zack."

Zack nodded back. "Hey, Mr. Jackson." He looked to my mom. "Mrs. Jackson."

My mom rolled her eyes. "Please. It's Annabeth, Zack. You know that."

Zack smiled. "Hey, I think it's in my best interests to always be polite to the parent's of the girl I like."

My dad laughed. "This is why I like you, Zack."

My mom slapped him. "Percy."

He just continued to chuckle.

They continued to talk and I forced myself to look away. I still gripped hard onto my sword and my other hand curled into a fist.

"Okay, you sadistic bastard, this has been a fun little adventure, but I'd rather you just kill me."

"Would that be easier?" I heard behind me. I whirled around and there she was. The fake me.

"Easier than watching this." I nodded. "Yeah."

"Why does it hurt you so much?" She questioned.

I pursed my lips and looked away.

She smiled, but there was no joy or humor. "It's because its hell isn't it? It's hell because you want it and can't have it."

I stepped back, disgust covering my every feature. I shook it off quickly, sarcasm back as my weapon of choice. "Are you gonna kill me with a sword or with your harsh words?"

"That's just it." She said. "I'm not going to kill you." She paused. "In the traditional sense, at least."

I narrowed my eyes. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you won't know that you've been killed."

I frowned, just flat out confused. "Excuse me?"

She looked me in the eyes. "I can give you this, Lena. I can give you everything you want."

I stumbled backwards. "You're lying."

She shook her head and walked towards me. "Look around you. I created this for you. You can live this life. The loving boyfriend, the caring friends, the annoying-yet-sweet little brother, and, of course, the parents. I put in a lot of effort. Extracted a lot of your memories to make it exactly what you want. It's perfect, isn't it?"

"The hell are you talking about?"

"I can make you forget." She said. "Forget everything." She stroked my face and I flinched away. "Forget your pain," she continued. "And you live this life instead."

I shook my head. "It wouldn't be real."

She rolled her eyes. "Well, no, not technically. It would last a moment, just a moment, but it would feel like a lifetime. And it would be a comfortable life. Predictable in a mortal sense. Isn't that what you'd prefer?"

"It would be fake." I insisted.

She groaned. "Can we move past that? I mean, how would you know? The life you remember could be fake. Maybe this is the real life and you've been robbed of it and I'm playing the hero returning it to you."

"Unlikely." I snapped.

She paused and then nodded. "True, but again, how would you know? I take away your current memories and I replace them with the memories of this life. Easy peasy."

"And then in real life, the one where we're currently on a bay in California, you snap my neck."

She paused and then nodded. "Yeah. Probably. Might stab you with your own sword. A sort of poetic justice there."

I smiled tensely. "And now we're discussing my form of my death."

"Don't pretend like this offer isn't tempting."

"Dying and living a fake life? You're right, I'm sold." I spat.

"You can't lie to me, Lena. I'm you."

She was right. She was me.

And the offer was tempting. Gods, was it ever.