Idk Man

Aftermath

This was it.
Finally.
The war... It was over.
Trees lie across the ground. Cabins are destroyed and burned to the ground. Large sections of the grassy fields were burnt, or upheaved, or flooded. Dust and smoke filled the air. The eternal flame that sat in the middle of the camp was struggling to manage a flame much bigger than a candle's.
There were so many casualties. So many wounded. Children lost their parents. Parents lost their children. Husbands were lost. Wives were lost. Brothers and sisters were lost. Friends were lost.
But it was worth it. She was dead. The woman that held us like clay in her hands. She tortured us, killed us, hunted us down. She was amazingly powerful, killing us by the handfuls without a second thought. We were finally free.
Yet, we were all down. Depression overwhelmed us. Everybody was weeping, sobbing, or going insane over what had just occurred. Everyone tried to comfort everyone. Grudges and enemies no longer existed, as the heat of the war melted us all down into one being.
Everybody was dirty. Dirt covered us. Blood and scabs, bruises and scrapes painted our bodies from head to toe. Clothes were torn, hair was tangled, nails were broken.
We all sat around in a large circle together, weeping and groaning for our losses and our own pain and agony.
One of the Apollo kids lifted his head. He was exhausted, just like the rest of us, but he took a breath.
"I heard that you've been, self-medicating in the quiet of your room, your sweet suburban tomb," his voice croaked and cracked, starting quietly. It was lost in the noise of all the people, so he took another deep, shaking breath, singing louder now. "And if you need a friend, I'll help you stitch up your wounds."
Slowly, the demigods around began to silence, one by one.
He continued the song, with his cracking, sore voice that once glided along like a golden silk. Eventually the area would encompass near silence, all except for him.
He took another breath, belting out the next words with all he had. "Hold on tight, the ride is a wild one. Make no mistake, the day will come when you can't cover up what you've done. Now don't lose your fight, kid, it only takes a push to pull on through! With so much left to do, you'll be missing out, and we'll be missing you!"
Few descendants of Apollo would try to join after realizing that it seemed to calm at least some of the campers.
Everybody sat together, singing, generally in sync. Some managed a smile, and some even managed a small laugh despite the horrors that they'd just endured.
Everybody was so caught up, starting to calm down as their minds were taken elsewhere from the damage of the war. This event would be the kickstart for everybody to begin pulling themselves together.
Everybody was so caught up.
"With so much left to do," they sang, "you'll be missing out, and we'll be missing y-"
They were so caught up.
He suddenly stopped singing. He appeared shock, mouth agape, desperately trying to get a breath. His hands shakily moved to his chest, where an arrow now buried itself so far, the point nearly stuck out of his back.
He fell over.
And it seemed to everyone, shocked, screaming, crying once more; that during a war, there can be no happiness, and there can be no relief.

Song: "Missing You" -All Time Low