In case Iose my mind, I love you - Frazel, Pjo fanfiction

Day one

My dearest Frank,

You might be wondering why I'm writing this letter. I find myself wondering the same thing as I scribble in candlelight, my old quill feeling familiar between my fingers. I only find one possible solution for this.

I have lost my mind.

I remember fighting a hellhound at the entrance of Camp Jupiter. But then, I don't know. Red, black, nothingness. And then I woke up.

Alaska is as I had been seeing it in my dreams, or should I say nightmares. With the old roads, the short buildings and the stables, with high mountains and frozen rivers. It's as if no time was passed, as if I had never leaved.

I saw my mother today. I know, my mother. She was alive in the kitchen, making necklaces that pretend to hold blessings as of nothing had ever happened.

But it's real, it has to be. I know it has to. We fought Gaia, and we survived the war. We were heroes, going to the ancient lands to find the Doors of Death, to close them before the blood of Olympus woke her up.

And everyone has to be real, too. Percy, Annabeth, Piper, Jason, Leo, Nico, Reyna... And you. I can't possibly have dreamed it all, can I?

But, yet again, here I am. In my old room, in my old nightgown, writing this letter with my old pen. The sun has long ago hidden behing the mountains but I cannot sleep.

It has to be real, it has to.

I need to find my way back, somehow. I don't want to be back, not here, not now. I'm scared of everything, of everyone. I am the daughter of a witch here, and a black girl. Gone are the days were I could learn side by side with everyone.

Gone is my freedom, my life, my love.

I'm all alone here, lost, and I'm afraid it's true.

Tomorrow, I'll try and ask my mother about Hades. Surely he's my father, surely she remembers him. It's really hard to try and separate reality from dreams, truth from lies, past from present.

This can't be real.

Frank, I love you. I know that is real, it's the only thing I know for sure. You are real, you have to. Maybe you won't be born for centuries, maybe I'm dreaming, maybe I'll never see you again.

But I can still see your face when I close my eyes. You're the face of my future, or just the future in general.

I need to go back. This isn't real. This isn't real. This isn't real. This isn't real. This isn't real. This isn't real. This isn't real. This isn't real. This isn't real. This isn't real. This isn't real. This isn't real. This isn't real. This isn't real. This isn't real. This isn't real. This isn't real. This isn't real. This isn't real. This isn't real. This isn't real. This isn't real. This isn't real. This isn't real. This isn't real. This isn't real. This isn't real. This isn't real. This isn't real. This isn't real. This isn't real. This isn't real. This isn't real. This isn't real.

I love you.

Yrs always, Hazel.