Ghost

A river of tears

E POV
Crack!
I whipped my head towards the sound of a twig snapping. After five seconds of silence I put my head back down and blanked out the world around me. I couldn't help thinking that there was something I could've done. It was all my fault. Everything was on me.
I was once again interrupted from my thoughts by a voice. The voice was harsh and demanding but at the same time curious. And young. It belonged to a boy, probably about my age. I could tell that without even looking up.
"What are you doing here?"
When I finally raised my head, I saw that I was right. The boy had olive skin and dark hair and eyes. He wore all black and a sword hung, sheathed, by his side.
"Who're you?" I asked. The boy shook his head;
"Tut tut. I asked the question first. Do me the courtesy of answering it and maybe I'll consider answering yours."

I regarded him carefully, taking my time to decide whether to trust him.
"Just getting away," I sighed gesturing in the general direction of the edge of the forest; "from all... that."
He nodded and started pacing from side to side. "And your name?"
"Uh uh." I said, shaking my head; "I answered your question, now you answer mine."
He seemed a little taken aback by my bold approach, but quickly recovered. He studied my face with those dark, judging eyes and when he decided I wasn't going to back down he said: "Nico di Angelo, son of Hades, god of riches and the Underworld."
"Wow Nico 'of Angels'. That's interesting." I answered, "I'm E. Just E."
"What about your parents?" He asked
"What about them?" I retorted. I wasn't in the mood for a chat about either of them.
He rolled his eyes and looked away as if deciding what to say next.
"You should come back to camp now. It's not safe out here."
"And yet," I turned to face him properly, "you're here."

For the first time, he looked something other than angry and judging. He looked embarrassed.
"Yeah well, I'm not exactly the kind of person any living thing approaches by choice" I stared inquisitively. He sighed and carried on;
"I used to spend more time with the dead than the living. I have my own room in the Underworld. Do you need any more explanation?"
"That gives antisocial a whole new meaning" I tried a light comment, until an idea popped into my head,  "Wait," I said. "You have a room in the Underworld, you used to spend most of your time there? Does that mean you can, like, take me there?"
"It doesn't work like that." He sighed.
"But you just said..."
"Hades is my father, I can go there and live to tell the tale. You most likely would not survive the trip." His tone was blunt, as if he'd had this kind of conversation before.
"Well you can at least take a message then?" I asked. I was desperate now, there had to be some way...
"My father would never allow it."
"But..."
"He's never happy with me, taking a message to one of his subjects? It would go against all his principals! The last thing I need to do is get myself into trouble with my father."
"That's what your afraid of?! Getting into trouble with your dad?!" The thought seemed ridiculous! That this mysterious kid wearing all black and looking like the child who's most likely to rebel against his parents, was afraid of- at worst- being grounded?!

"My father is capable of things you can only dream of newbie," he said, jabbing his finger in my direction; "there is no way I am going to get myself locked up for five thousand years because a new girl doesn't understand the gods."
His voice was steely calm but I could feel him edging towards the drop. He was shaking with the effort of keeping his anger under control. I should've left it. Shut up and let him win. But no. I had to keep going, just fuel the fire a little more. He was close to the fall, but my toes were already over the edge.
"Doesn't understand the gods?!" I shouted, "No I guess I don't! But guess what? I'll bet you don't either! Whether you've been here two years, five years, ten years before me, you still won't know it all! You'll be dreaming of the day you get recognised for millennia! Yes, you'll still be dreaming after you die knowing that every opportunity of a possible friend you got, you pushed away! I asked for nothing more than a favour! A favour you could easily pull off!" By the time I'd paused to take a breath there were tears streaming down my face.
Breathing hard, I watched the boy in front of me. It was like I watched him detonate in slow motion. Every instinct in my body told me he was about to lose it, screamed at me to take cover. But I was frozen in time. Watching as he took that last step over the edge.
Then he fell.
And I went with him.