a story as endless as the ocean . pjo / allie jackson

0.2 fruit ladies of death

0.2 Some Old Ladies Who Knit Socks Predict My Death

Throughout the last few weeks of school, I hardly even thought of Mrs. Dodds. I was way too busy stressing over a new photoshoot for the September cover of Vogue, completing the final few scenes needed for the upcoming season of The Walking Dead that would be released early the next year, and finishing off my final few assignments to make sure I maintained my 4.0 to keep my mind occupied with the thought of something that I very well could've convinced myself I dreamt up.

She visited me in my sleep every night, though. I didn't have much time during my last days to think about her a lot, so I shoved it to the back of my mind, throwing myself into projects to keep myself distracted. But there she came, every night like clockwork— whether I was in bed in my dorm room or in another random hotel room— making my heart thunder in my chest and sending a chill up my spine.

I might've been able to forget about it. I might've even been able to convince myself it had never happened, if I really tried— I'd done something similar before, at any rate. The only problem was Grover. He kept giving me worried looks and seemed to be on edge every time he was around me. Every time I'd ask him what was wrong, he'd tell me nothing and that he was fine. I would've believed him, too. The only problem with that is: Grover's an awful liar and couldn't fool me even if his life depended on it.

Mrs. Kerr, who had supposedly been our calc teacher since Christmas, was a perky blonde woman and I had never seen her in my entire life, but she was a good teacher, so I went with it.

The shitty weather continued; there were very few days it didn't rain. A thunderstorm ended up blowing out the windows of a few of my friends' dorms. Vivian, my senior roommate and one of the few non-fake people in this school, and I had gotten lucky. She was bubbly and on the cheer team with me, and I'd known her a few years before we would separate on graduation day. She had a boyfriend, Michah Newsome if I remembered correctly, who was already in college at LSU and she'd be joining him there, after the school year ended.

A few days after the thunderstorm, the biggest tornado ever spotted in the Hudson Valley touched down only fifty miles from Yancy. Once we'd finished all of the units needed, our social studies teacher made us study the irregular amount of small planes that'd taken a dive into the Atlantic in the past few months.

My own issues weren't getting any better— I felt more irritable than I'd ever been and even the tiniest of inconveniences had me snapping at the nearest person. Danny had gotten particularly aggravated with me and after one of our worse arguments, had me storming off of the set of The Avengers and almost too pissed off to go to Columbia Cheer tryouts the next day.

Despite that, I couldn't wait for the year to be over so I'd get to see my mother again. I hadn't seen her since Christmas and that in and of itself was starting to take a toll on me. She calmed me down most of the time and whenever I had a problem I knew I could go to her about it, but without her near I couldn't very well do that. At the very least, I knew when I went to college I'd get to stay with her and wouldn't have classes all day, every day.

Then again, that did mean I was going to have to be the bartender and the never-ending money supplier for my dickhead of a stepfather and his poker games, but I was willing to sacrifice that.

I would miss Vivian and Grover, who'd been the best friends I'd met away from work. And I'd miss Mr. Brunner and his crazy-but-awesome way of teaching. I'd miss the view my dorm had and the smell of pine that always seemed to be in the air.

Still not gonna stay. I'd rather hold up the sky.

My Vogue shoot went well and the night before my Greek and Roman final, Vivian and I were blasting the Mean Girls soundtrack as loud as we could without getting in trouble with the teachers.