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by As I went further and further into the forest, I decided that the monsters weren't going to flock to me just by how attractive I was -- maybe if I made more noise.... I started up my whistling again, attempting to do "Hedwig's Theme" from Harry Potter to amuse myself. Was it just me, or was time passing by really slowly? Huh. I kicked a stick and sent it about three inches forward -- pathetic, like my singing attempts. Maybe I should try running a bit instead of doing archery all the time. I was okay at running, but I'd probably be overtaken by a hellhound quickly unless my life was in danger or somebody was luring me to them with one of my favorite foods. Yeah, I'd definitely run fast for that -- if only they'd done that to me during gym class at school.
I stopped whistling for a moment to think: Have I written a letter for Mom yet? No? Ugh, probably not. I wouldn't have much to write about, anyway, unless you counted people harassing me in the infirmary as "interesting." Seriously, did people not have anything better to do? I'd have to talk to Chiron about getting some sort of guard system or magical barrier around the infirmary -- one that would keep healthy people that aren't healers out (unless they were let in by somebody?), allow injured/sick people in, and keep me and any other harassed healers from adding to the list of injured people by trying to get those idiots out by force. If you're gonna try being a psychopath in this camp, at least leave the sick and injured alone until they were healed up. You'd save yourself, the healers, and those unhealthy kids a lot of time and energy by staying out and maybe getting an actual hobby, like collecting buttons or something. My stepdad collected plenty of "wonderful, beautiful, precious" rocks, usually from his daily walks around the neighborhood at home or from little gift shops. I didn't see what was so interesting about those rocks, since they weren't usually colorful and they certainly weren't big enough to kill somebody with.
Unconsciously, my hand came up and slapped my forehead. Nelly, where the hell is your train of thought going? Are you going to think about new ways to murder people, too? I looked around desperately, hoping for something -- cough, a monster -- to divert my train of thought to something less... murderous? No, I was probably going to murder something by the end of the day. Something less psychotic, maybe? I thought a moment as I walked around a fallen tree, the end of my bow hitting one of the exposed roots. Yeah, that definitely worked.
I stopped whistling for a moment to think: Have I written a letter for Mom yet? No? Ugh, probably not. I wouldn't have much to write about, anyway, unless you counted people harassing me in the infirmary as "interesting." Seriously, did people not have anything better to do? I'd have to talk to Chiron about getting some sort of guard system or magical barrier around the infirmary -- one that would keep healthy people that aren't healers out (unless they were let in by somebody?), allow injured/sick people in, and keep me and any other harassed healers from adding to the list of injured people by trying to get those idiots out by force. If you're gonna try being a psychopath in this camp, at least leave the sick and injured alone until they were healed up. You'd save yourself, the healers, and those unhealthy kids a lot of time and energy by staying out and maybe getting an actual hobby, like collecting buttons or something. My stepdad collected plenty of "wonderful, beautiful, precious" rocks, usually from his daily walks around the neighborhood at home or from little gift shops. I didn't see what was so interesting about those rocks, since they weren't usually colorful and they certainly weren't big enough to kill somebody with.
Unconsciously, my hand came up and slapped my forehead. Nelly, where the hell is your train of thought going? Are you going to think about new ways to murder people, too? I looked around desperately, hoping for something -- cough, a monster -- to divert my train of thought to something less... murderous? No, I was probably going to murder something by the end of the day. Something less psychotic, maybe? I thought a moment as I walked around a fallen tree, the end of my bow hitting one of the exposed roots. Yeah, that definitely worked.
