LUNACY; percy jackson

lunacy

lu·na·cy

/ˈlo͞onəsē/

noun

the state of being a lunatic; insanity (not in technical use).

ANDROMEDA STORM 

    knows Death. She knows it well; far better than she wished she did. She is familiar with its many faces and its cold hands around her neck. She knows its breath against her skin and its voices in her ears. She knows how it makes deals and breaks bargains, ones that she's made with it. She is a friend of Death—unwilling or not, she doesn't know. Her first encounter with Death is when she is was only four. Four years old. But now she is older, wiser, but still just as shocked by its cold hands and paralyzing reminder that Death is what gives Life meaning. She knows Death, she is not afraid of it. Until she has something more to lose. Someone more to lose. 

    All her life she has run from love, from that dove that watches from the trees above her, like a shadow outrunning the sun. She has ran from it and its gentle caresses. She has run from love and attachment and companionship. All different forms of love. Before she knows it, she's no longer four. Instead, she is twelve years old, almost thirteen. She is twelve and still running. Running from Fate, from Death and Life, from the gods of Olympus. Running from everything and everyone, but then, before she even realizes it, she is running into him. Sea green eyes, messy black hair, tan skin, and a crooked, mischievous smile. And the thing is, the moment that she ran into him, she never turned back. Not once.