𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐄 - j. grace, ocxoc ¹ ✓

xxiii. fresh up !

XXIII.      DELILAH SONG-JACKSON   !
⋆ ★
fresh up

Delilah dreamed she was packing before she headed to the airport, where her room was almost entirely empty. Her father was so busy with work he couldn't take care of her and her aunt Sally was tired of her being neglected.

"Miyoung!" her father shouted from the kitchen. "Are you almost ready?"

"Almost!" She yelled back. Saying she was glad to leave was an understatement. The longer she didn't go to Camp Half-blood, the more she would be in danger of getting attacked. And she might've lived in a different country but Delilah had learned monsters were everywhere.

As soon as she got home from school, her father told her she had three hours to finish packing. He promised she would have time and didn't need to start early and how he would help, but she realized it was the last time she would believe his words. Now, the majority of her clothes were packed with thirty minutes left before they had to leave, and she was stuck in her school uniform with no time to change.

Her hands shook, more than usual due to the nerves. Over the years, her condition had gotten worse and it only made her more scared for the future. What if she could even hold a pencil anymore? Will she ever be able to find a cure? Or something to help?

Delilah prayed to the gods.

Her father had told her years ago about her mom — but he made her promise one thing. Never tell anyone, even her cousin. Her Aunt Sally knew, and her cousin, Percy, was a half-blood as well but her aunt waited to tell him. His safety was in more danger than Delilah's was. Two years ago, when he found out, he wasn't the happiest with Delilah since she already knew. But after a bit, he understood she didn't exactly have a choice.

Delilah looked at her room, huge in comparison to what she lived in at camp. Her pale yellow walls were completely empty, even her bed was stripped from all of the sheets. Her new life was about to start in New York, where she would be training. Her father, though, had one rule, she would be flying back every Christmas. She wasn't exactly sure why, he usually spent it working. Delilah guessed it was because he didn't want to seem like a completely horrible father.

Then her dream changed—or maybe she was dead in the Underworld—because she found herself back in Medea's department store. And even worse, Piper and her made eye contact. They were both dressed in their days-old clothes and Delilah caught on they were having the same dream.

"Delilah?" Piper immediately walked toward her, sticking to her like she was glue. "Is this a dream?" Delilah didn't bother answering and walked around, uneasiness following while she looked at all of the items which hung on the racks.

Something shiny caught Delilah's eye. A familiar piece of armor which was the last thing she wanted to see. Immediately she walked to it, holding the cold metal in her hands. The armor Silena Beauregard died in had faded almost completely from Delilah's memory. But seeing it made every single emotion she felt the day she died come back to her. Her eyes watered while she held it. She remembered the realization when she saw Silena's pink nails, her curly hair that wasn't at all Clarisse's. Seeing her on the ground whispering how much she loved Delilah. Drew and Delilah crying at their sister's side before she had to be swept away to continue fighting the war. Percy and her visiting the graves of Silena and Charles Beckendorf with matching flowers.

"Armor?" Piper walked behind her. She seemed notice the tears that started to form in Delilah's eyes. "Oh, Delilah. What's wrong?"

"Silena died in this. Why it's here, I don't know but—" She swallowed while she tried not to cry. Her hands were shaking, not from her condition, but because it felt like the armor was vibrating her hands. "She was so great. You would've liked her, y'know?"