Shadows of the past

A quick sharp pain, a scream, then warmth.

Everything happened so quickly after Aeneas left. There was an argument, and then a fire....what had happened?

I felt as if I was floating through space, why couldn't I remember what happened....where was Anna?

I killed myself, after Aeneas left, stabbed myself.

Faces flashed by in a blur, of Anna, of Aeneas, and then of Sychaeus....his image lingered, and unlike the other it was steady, where as all the others were dull and wavy, unreal. His was very real. I didn't realize it was really him until he spoke....that's when I knew I was really dead. No one could have imitated his voice, his soft, steady voice. It donned on me that since it was undeniably him, and he was absolutely dead, for I buried him myself, that I must also be dead.

The funny thing about gods is that while your on earth they can make you do anything, absolutely anything. Even make you fall in love with a complete baboon, to the point that you killed yourself when he left. However, once your dead, they don't hold any power over you at all. I never loved Aeneas, the whole thing was merely a spell by the gods. To think I'd kill myself over such a tool. Honestly, it made me sick. But none of that mattered anymore, I was finally with Sychaeus again. My one true love. We spent what seemed like a an eternity together, every moment being even more blissful than the last. It was perfect, until he came back...

Aeneas was in the underworld. At first I thought he must have killed himself trying to do some stupid stunt, or because someone finally realized what an idiot he was and decided to do the world a favor and rid the earth of him. Unfortunately, as he got closer I realized that he wasn't actually dead. He didn't have the gracefulness of a shade. No, he was just as clumsy as ever.

He immediately approached me, and started yammering about how he's sorry he made me do this. How he didn't realize how much affect he had on me...as if. Either he's too stupid to realize that I was under a spell, or he's insanely conceited. Personally I think it's a little of both. Either way I was so sick of him I didn't even bother to tell him the truth. He's not worth my time, especially now that I have my Sychaeus back. He started yelling as I left telling me not to go, and not to be sad. Oh please....

He left after that, and I never heard from him again. Honestly I could care less about him. Everything's right now that Sychaeus is here. Everything's right...everything's right...everything's right.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Water, I couldn't escape it in the real world, and it haunts me even now in the afterlife...

In life, water gave me a job, and it took everything else away.

You see I've always wanted to be a great politician. I had plans, ways to change not just a country, but the world. My name would've been in every history scroll there is. But no...my dad thought sending me to a naval academy would be more useful than letting me stay in Troy, and study under some of the greatest politicians in the world. Sailing was my dad's dream, but it wasn't mine. I never wanted to become a helmsmen, but when wartime came around they assigned me to a ship because of how good I was. Sailing is not that hard, there really isn't much too it, so I aced all my exams. Apparently other people were anywhere near as intelligent.

Ever since I was drafted I've never had the chance to do anything than sail. It ruined my dream, my ambition, my life. It was only fitting that I would end up drowning at sea...

Now, even in the afterlife water haunts me. This blasted Archeron is all that stands between me and the glorious fields of the afterlife. That is the fate of those who die at sea, with their remains unburied. Forever waiting for someone to find your body, and give it a proper burial.

The real reason I died, was no freak accident however. It was all Aeneas' fault. He's the one who made the promise with Apollo, knowing that someone would die. If it wasn't for him I could have become a great politician in Italy, but nooooo... Dying at sea is sooo much more fun. (If you couldn't tell, that was sarcasm) Normally I would assume that people are smart enough to catch my sarcasm, but if your anything like Aeneas than you probably don't know the meaning of the word.

When Aeneas asked me how I died, mustering up every ounce of sarcasm I had I told him it wasn't anyone's fault and it absolutely wasn't because of the deal with Apollo. Unfortunately as soon as I said that he walked away beaming, like he had just gotten rid of a guilty conscious. I'm fairly certain he took me seriously.

 *Sigh* That awkward moment when your sarcasm is so advanced that people take you seriously...

I hate the ocean...