Hazel, you are the last chapter. Also the shortest, but mainly the last.

I DO NOT OWN.

Wait

Hazel Levesque was dead, and she had accepted that long ago.

Well, maybe it was long ago. Where she was, time was impossible to manage, so she could have only been sitting beneath the black poplar tree for a mere ten minutes; but she really doubted that.

Hazel sighed, watching all the other souls chitter their unintelligible language, all moaning about a past they couldn't quite remember.

It was more than a bit depressing.

Leaning back—well, as much as a deceased girl can lean back—against the tree, her eye lids fluttering closed for a moment, so that maybe, just maybe, she could imagine herself away from here, Hazel felt a knot form in her wispy gray chest. It was strange—like a yearning sensation, except that Hazel wasn't yearning for anything except to get out of the Underworld. Her ears burned, like when people talked about her. Also, there was this throbbing feeling in her head—can dead thirteen year-olds get migraines?—that felt as if someone were stomping on it with spiked, steel-toed combat boots.

Groaning, Hazel slumped back and clutched her head, hoping the pain would stop.

It didn't.
…

Hazel, though she knew it was strange even in the first place, got used to the pain—the emptiness and burning and throbbing. It was usually weak, with only erratical moments of immense pain, so Hazel could continue on with her daily life—sorry, eternal death.

At the moment, the pain was cranked up to about a thirteen on a scale of one to ten.

It hurt that badly.

She was moaning, like the other spirits or shades or whatever they're called, and ripping at her hair.

What was going on? Normal dead people didn't feel physical pain; it was all emotion, about being depressed and lonely and all.

Of course, Hazel wasn't the typical normal shade. She was a daughter of Pluto, the god of the Underworld. Hazel didn't forget, not like the others, and when she was alive she could summon cursed jewels.

Even in death she was an outcast.

How much does that suck?

The pain subsided, but there was still a burning sensation in her ears.

A lot.

It sucks a lot.

…..

Hazel was lounging underneath the poplar tree again when a new feeling erupted in her. It was like someone was walking all over her, except this person wasn't exactly walking, more like floating.

She ignored it and drifted off, mingling with all the other dead spirits, hoping one of them was her mother.

None of them were.

The feeling drifted away.

…..

A short while later-or maybe years; again, time is different—Hazel was back by the black poplar tree.

Then the feeling as if someone were hovering over her reappeared.

Some ghosts had chattered about walking sensations before, like when someone walked over their grave, but Hazel didn't think she would have to deal with that because, for one: she had no grave, and two: she had died in the middle of the ocean in Alaska.

Why her?

…..

There was a murmuring in her head.

Hazel was back underneath the poplar tree—she should really stop going there, considering most of the weird feelings happened around that tree—her foggy eyes closed, when she first heard it; the voice was muffled, like speaking through water, at first, but it was slowly gaining clarity.

"You might not be able to hear me," a young male voice was saying, "and you're probably wondering how I could possibly talk to you in the first place if you can hear me, but that's beside the point." The boy—Hazel concluded he was a bit younger than her, if she was alive, that is—sighed.

"My name is Alaster, and I was sent here, above your death place, to relay a message." Hazel shivered at that, the oil filling her lungs once again.

"You might have felt some things," the boy continued, "like burning ears, because I was searching for you, but don't worry. It will all be over soon.

"Anyway, the message: Stay where you are, Hazel Levesque. Underneath that poplar tree you think is bad luck. In a few years' time, someone is going to get you, and you'll get your second chance." There was a bit of silence, like Alaster was waiting for the news to sink in for Hazel.

"I don't know much else, but I know this second chance will have many hardships, but you'll learn about yourself and your past."

This wasn't happening. A boy cannot be trying—actually—communicating with Hazel by being over her death place. That wasn't possible. Was it?

"Hazel, just—just wait. Trust me on this. Just wait."

The boy knew her name, knew where she was, probably knew how she had died—why should Hazel trust him?

Because he is promising you a second chance, a voice whispered in her mind.

"I promise, when you come back to life, we'll get to meet."

Hazel nodded, not quite believing it, but sat back.

Waiting.

…..

Hazel thought she had gone insane after a while. Can the dead do that? Go insane?

It probably wasn't very far-fetched for Hazel, but she continued to wait.

And wait.

And wait.

…..

Some kids were walking through the Fields of Asphodel—three of them.

One boy, who probably wasn't really a boy, had a big hat on and little shoes with wings on them. The girl was a blonde, with perfect curls cascading down her back; a dagger was held firmly in her hand. The third child, another boy, had messy black hair and green eyes that Hazel could spot even from where she was sitting.

They walked right past Hazel, who was still waiting at her poplar tree.

The first two completely ignored her, but the third turned and faced Hazel. He had this look on his face, like Hazel should know him.

The boy pursed his lips, walking away.

But not before mouthing one word at Hazel.

Wait.

Hazel waited.

…..

Another boy, a while—or maybe not a while—later stepped up to Hazel waiting at her poplar tree. "You're different," he had said.

And then everything sort of went hazy to Hazel as she was suddenly transported to the world of the living.

This was her second chance.

Nico di Angelo was the boy's name, the one who had taken her out of the Underworld; he was her brother.

Hazel loved him—she really did—but she knew he wasn't the one who had spoken to her. She knew he wasn't Alaster.

Alaster...

He had searched for her, just to relay a message, just to tell her to stay by that poplar tree. He had told her that Hazel would get her second chance.

And then Alaster had promised that they would meet, but they hadn't done that. Not yet. Though she felt she would, and soon.

So Hazel did one of the things she was best at: she waited.

And waited.

And waited.

But that was okay. Hazel could wait, even if she now had clocks to count the minutes and calendars to count the days.

Besides, Alaster had promised her a second life; how far-fetched was it for two people out of billions to meet compared to that?

And this story is now finished. I hope you guys enjoyed it!

Review, if you do so please.

Peace and all that other stuff.

~Unexplainable Contradiction