That moment when everyone assumes that Percy, Jason, and Frank are my three powerful level sixes and they couldn't be more wrong.
I've been laughing about it for the million years it took me to update.
This chapter is dedicated to @_tigergirl13_
Also know as the person who guesses all three level sixes correctly.
Merry Christmas guys!
::
She is sitting, or she's sat, or she sits. Tenses don't matter, she'll remind herself. Everything happens eventually. Or it will have happened. Or is going to happen. But either way, she sits on her bed, her shoulders drooping (Maybe already droopped) down and her knees drawn up (or she is drawing her knees up? Maybe her knees will be drew up. But drew isn't a word-- no it's not a tense). Her arms are boney (that she's certain of) tightly wrapped (being wrapped? Were wrapped?) around her legs and covered with scabs (Or they will be covered sometime in the near future, but she's nearly certain that they already are).
Her breath is (was/will be) short, her mouth is (may be) dry, and her hair hangs (hung, will hang) in short, greasy clumps around her face.
Her heart beat pounds (Pounded? No that doesn't make sense) dully in her ears, and she's vaguely aware of it (she'll probably be less aware of it soon. Or maybe she'll be more aware.) She's scared, though. (Something she's completely sure of. She's always scared. Has been, will be.) Scared as she sits (Or sitting. Maybe she was sat) in a half-sleep, pressed (pressing) against the wall on the back of her bed.
Scared that they won't bring anymore.
She's aware (always aware; doesn't matter when) of the constant itch that burns (burned?) across her arms, her skin warm and flushed (flushing? it's got to be normal at some point) the way the blanket under (or maybe it's over) her bare feet makes (Will make, made) her feet feel (felt, feeling) funny. But at the same time (time is a weird word, she decides, not good at describing things and too confusing. like tenses.) she feels lost, disoriented, sitting (sat or sits) numb in a dark room waiting (will wait, was waiting) for them to drop the case in front of her (Unless they don't bring the case, she will think numbly, which is entirely possible).
Eventually it'll happen (it will happen, it has happened, it shoulder happen), always (that will never change. won't change) when she's sleeping (slept). Sleeping doesn't feel much different then being awake, except for how her dreams are always (always) more real.
She stirs (or will stir) abruptly. The case will be (is) on the end of the bed, and her eyes will widen (will get wide) glazed over (or glazing over) and dilated.
She'll scramble, flicking (flicked) the clasps open and desperately prying the lid open.
In the dark the spoon glints (will glint), burned, and a sense of relief flows (will flow, has flowed) over her. Her nose is running (will run. has runned-- but that's not a word, so it's not a tense either) and she'll draw the back of her hand against her nose.
She picks up (picked up, will pick up) the spoon, her fingers feeling (felt) uncomfortably thick.
Then she smiles (smiled, will smile), her teeth yellowed (yellow, yellowing), her face sagging (sagged). She'll look like a ghost (looks like, will look), faded (fading) out and drooping. Holding onto any grasp of life she can.
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Phobia (A Percy Jackson AU)
Fanfiction/DISCONTINUED AND INCOMPLETE You can fly but you're afraid of heights. You can disappear but you're scared of not being remembered. You can control fire but you're scared of burning others. You manipulate water but you're terrified of drowning. You...
