Who the hell thought making me a Half-blood was a good idea? {ON HOLD}

Act Two- Sweet Dreams

Disclaimer: The world of Percy Jackson, its characters and settings are the copyrighted works of Rick Riordan and his publishing companies and affiliates. No profit was made from the writing of this story nor was any malice intended in any way, shape or form to the author or the actors/actresses who so brilliantly have brought them to life.This author is not responsible for underage readers. Please observe the ratings, warnings, and age of legal consent for your country.

It was darkness.

Far as the eye could see, dark, inky blackness lay. The only thing that wasn't an impenetrable haze was the ground- a shallow pool of water lay like a twisted mirror, it's surface a state of stillness usually associated with the dead. I stood in it, the water not even reaching my ankles, but I still stood, dripping wet, as I peered through the strangely clear liquid to the unidentifiable bottom.

I was screaming, too, and the surface shuddered and broke with every silent decibel. I have no doubt that if I could hear myself, I would hear the hoarse and incoherent ramblings, but nothing carried.

Nothing would hear me- my display was pointless.

I crumpled, sinking more than a few inches downwards. The waters shattered around me like spun sugar, only to return into a pool to be shattered again. And again, and again, and again...

"I'm sorry!" my gaping mouth pleaded uselessly. "I'm so sorry! I never meant to hurt anyone! Please!"

Nobody appeared.

Another wordless noise strained in my throat.

"Please!" I sobbed. "Somebody!"

I curled tighter into myself, squeezing, if only to feel something other than the utter numbness that perverted my very being.

Nobody is here.

"Who are you?" a voice called.

Like breaching the surface after nearly drowning, the world swam back into focus, and with the came noises.

Splashes, trickles, the soft popping noises of a solid object meeting passive waters...

I wasn't alone! My head snapped up.

A girl stood before me. She was a little bit older than my physical age, with unruly black, punk-style hair, dark eyeliner around her stormy blue eyes, and freckles across her nose.

Thalia, daughter of Zeus.

"T-Thalia?" I asked numbly.

"Yes, who are you?"

How is this happening? I shouldn't be able to see her! She's a tree for fuck's sake!

"Ophelia." The name tasted like ash in my mouth.

She cocked her head and frowned. "How are you with me?"

"How am I here? How are you here? You're a tree!" I spluttered back at her.

"A tree?" She seemed baffled by this. "Why would I be a tree? No, I died protecting my family."

"You're not dead, this is not the Underworld," I insisted.

She rolled her eyes at me, "Very astute. We're somewhere in-between; not alive yet not dead." She gestured at the blackness with her hand. "A tree you said? That might explain why I'm here, but what about you?"

My arms curled around me. Droplets of my memory swirled, more perilous than any ocean. Still, if it's Thalia... "I was on a quest, but I... I lost control. Began destroying everything in sight, started screaming at the gods, nearly killed my family, the works."