After the End of the World: A Reyna Story

Chapter 10: I Have a Reflection, Kind Of

Slowly, I stepped onto my bunk porch. The wood beneath my feet creaked with age as I shuffled to my door. I picked the lock with one of my hairpins and made my way into the dark room.

I nearly tripped and fell over a pile of war tactic books before finding the light switch along my wall and turning them on.

My bunk was plain.

The walls were an ugly, whitewashed color, one I'd inherited from the praetor before me after he had realized the neon green paint he had been using was banned in twenty six countries because of its notorious arsenic poisoning abilities. My bed had coarse tan covers. I hadn't bothered to change them from the standard ones I'd taken from my last cabin. The only decoration on my bed was the baby blue blanket that was gently folded at the foot of my bed. The room was square in shape. The bed sat in the top left-hand corner, up against the wall. In the right corner, there was the door that led to my private bathroom. A window was on the left wall, but the blinds were pulled down. Against the right wall was my desk. Covering every inch of free wall (except for the ugly, whitewashed back wall) were bookshelves. They were my prized possessions. The one crown jewel of my room. I used to have a rug in the center of my room, but it became so thin from people constantly stepping on it, that I had to throw it out. Now, I only had the worn, cold, wooden floor.

I walked lazily to my desk. The papers on it were neatly organized into little stacks, easy for all my praetor duties. A cup full of pens and pencils was in one corner of the desk while a tiny, potted aloe plant was in the other. Sitting on top of my papers in the center of my desk was a glass bowl full of my favorite candy: jellybeans. A little white card trimmed in a shimmery black ink sat propped up beside the bowl. In a messy, scrawling script, a note had been written. The handwriting was quite familiar. My lips quirked upwards in a smile and I began to read the note Nico di Angelo had left me.

A mi hermana,

"To my sister" Nico had written in Spanish.

I dropped by very quickly, but didn't see you. Disappointed. And a little worried. I hope you didn't go looking for trouble. As you know, it disproportionately finds you. I really hope you are safe. All is well at Camp Half Blood. It is bliss.

I paused reading. Nico had underlined bliss multiple times. I sighed. Even Nico, little Nico, had a more successful love life than I did.

Please stay safe, Rey. I couldn't stand it if anything bad happened to you. And if I need to beat up someone, I'm sure I'll be able to scrounge up enough people here at camp who'd be willing to go to war for you. Now, I've got to go, but I thought I'd drop off something nice for you. Nothing but the best wishes for you.
Te amo!!!

"I love you"
Once again, Nico had written in my native language.

Tuo fratello

A tiny heart was scribbled next to "tuo fratello", the Italian words for "your brother".

I hadn't realized I was crying until a teardrop dampened the note. I wiped my face, then quickly moved to the large trunk sitting at the foot of my bed. I dug through tidily stacked purple t-shirts and jeans until I camp upon what I was looking for.

The shoebox didn't look like much, but it held some of my best memories. I opened it up and just looking at some of the things made my eyes water up.

A ribbon, from Hylla, that she had stolen for me at CC's and kept in her pocket all through the time we spent kidnapped by pirates. A lock of Lupa's fur she gave to me after she said she sensed my "hollow" body. She said I was close to being a shell. She said I had lost too much. A promise ring Jason gave me after our friendship had grown so fierce that he had vowed to walk through the depths of Tartarus for me.

That might have been it. The ring was what pushed me over the edge.

I threw Nico's note into the box and smacked the lid on, slightly crumpling the cardboard sides. I carelessly tossed the shoebox into the trunk and slammed the trunk shut so hard that it's echo rang through my ears as I fell onto the bed.

Instead of falling onto my pillow like I had wanted to, I crumpled against the foot of my bed where the blue, knit blanket lay. I buried my nose into it, hoping to cope slightly, but all I smelled was Jason.

When we were thirteen, his only scent was this awful cologne that could be smelled from a ninety mile radius. Even his sweat couldn't be masked by it. Well, that also happened to be the same year that we became really best friends. We had lain under the stars nearly every night on this blanket, finding the different constellations. We had picnics using this one as a blanket. Most of the time, during the winter a lot of kids would be gone for school. Except Jason and me. So we'd do more fun activities, like host campfires and sleepovers. On particularly cold nights, we'd curl up by the fire and we'd use the blanket while we roasted s'mores. In the entire camp sleepovers, one of the praetors would play host and Jason and I would put our sleeping bags beside each other and spread the blanket over both of us. Sometimes, Jason and I would sneak into the kitchens and I'd cook food I remembered from home. Home with Hylla and my father. Jason would wrap himself up in my blanket. And so, with all of the time he spent with it, it was only fitting that he would imprint his smell on the blanket.

I didn't even remember how I got it. It must have been I welcoming gift from someone, because the first night I was there, I slept with just my tan covers, but by the second night, the mysterious blue blanket had appeared on the foot of my bed. I still didn't know who had given it to me.

I slowly breathed in the scent of Jason's cologne one last time before sitting up.

My sword was still strapped to my leg and my dress was still in tatters. I summed up enough energy to move, and I stood and meandered to the bathroom. There, I took out every bobby pin and washed my face clean of makeup and blood. My hair fell to almost my waist in a tangle of knots and curls. Some clumps of hair were still stiff from hairspray. Instead of taking a second shower that day, I decided to forgo a wash and slid into my pajamas.

I crawled into bed after turning off the lights and laid there, staring at the blank ceiling. Back in my old cabin, someone had put those plastic glow in the dark stars up on the ceiling. I had fallen asleep to them every night.

Another wave of sadness hit me and I began to cry in earnest. Finally, I turned over to my side and curled up in a little ball. I thought it would take forever to fall asleep, but instead, a light rain started to dust the roof and the drizzling sounds swept me off into sweet nothingness.

The next morning I woke up with the blue blanket dangling precariously off the side of the bed. I had evidently tossed and turned a lot that night. Throwing all of the blankets back onto my bed, I stood and stretched, the cold floor oddly refreshing. Sunlight tranquilly streaked in through my one window, providing me soft light as I made my way to the bathroom.

I stared at myself in the mirror. My dark eyes were bloodshot and puffy. My hair looked like a rat's nest. But I'd seen worse days. I was getting ready to climb into the shower when I heard a knock on my door.

"Come in!" I shouted as I stumbled from the bathroom and ran to the door.

Andy stood there looking rather white faced.

"Andy are you okay? What's happened? Can you go on the quest?" I ran forward and grabbed his shoulders. I stared into his dark green eyes, hoping for his answer.

Instead, he just shook his head.

"What's-"

"It's- it's not me," he croaked out.

"What?" My eyebrows scrunched up in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"It's not me," He repeated more clearly. "I'm not the one with a problem."

His voice was too subdued, too calm. Andy suddenly blanched.

"Then what is it? What's the problem? Spit it out! What's wrong!"

My question hung in the air, tighter than a noose. It rang in the silence, broken only by Andy's quick, ragged breaths.

Finally, he spoke.

"It's Hazel."