A/N: I did some thinking (again ;)) and I decided I couldn't leave you guys without a final chapter. This is not related at all to PJO as much as I want it to be, but I just decided that I had to write about something my own, to kind of make it special. Enjoy! (I'm actually still doubting my quitting. You might see something from me occasionally when I feel like being creative or when I'm bored, but I'll mainly be focusing on original stories. Go check out my story Completely, and Utterly Blind, to see how I'm doing with that. ;))

Ara Leen stared out the window. For the past few years, she had seen masked people murder her family. It was brutal, really, for a 17 year old. First her mom, then her baby sister, then her older brother, and finally, her father, the closest thing she ever got to a happy family.

Through the years, funerals piled up, gravestones were made, lined up next to each other. She couldn't take it anymore. It was too much. Her aunt offered to take her in, but she refused. She couldn't-- no, she won't be pitied. 'I guess I'll be a hobo for the rest of my life,' she thought. Rubbing tears from her eyes, she focused on what she would do now. She was on the train to Chicago, the farthest place where she could afford going to.

"Ara?" She looked up. "Jon?" Standing in front of her was her brother. Not the one that died, silly. Her brother that ran away after their mother died. "Why did you leave us?! Why did you? It killed dad on the inside! First he lost his wife, then a week later, his  firstborn son!" I yelled at him. He stepped back, unsure of what to do. "Ara... I... I'm sorry," He sighed. I laughed bitterly. "Now Jada, Zach, and Dad are dead as well! No one here now to be with me! You left us Jon, you left ME!" He reeled back, "There are people out there, Ara. I ran away to find them. I thought you would understand." With that, he left my cabin. I cried to myself. What have I done?

Fin.