I have to stop writing new stories when I have a million unfinished drafts for the next chapters of stories I've already got. LOL
But yeah, I don't own Percy Jackson. That series is too amazing for me to even dream about thinking up of.
The Westport Metro-North Railroad station was busy.
People hurried about, bumping into each other and shuffling through the station to get to their ticket. Luke shifted to the side to avoid being run over by a tall man in a suit, muttering about stocks into his phone. He shifted his backpack; it was filled to the seams with two sets of clothes, a few bags of chips, and a single peanut butter and jelly sandwich in a Tupperware container. The front pocket held his Ziploc of those weird healing lemon squares and about twelve dollars in coins.
Luke felt tiny.
The nine-years-old hurried onto the shortest ticket booth line he saw and waited. He shifted uncomfortably, aware that any one of these "people" in this crowded station could easily turn out to be a monster in disguise. As he waited on line, he poked his tongue into the 2 gaps in his top teeth, where they had fallen out in a fight at school. Finally, it was his turn.
"Excuse me," Luke peered over the edge of the ticket booth. Inside was a stern looking woman with her hair in a bun and grey eyes. "Miss, how much is a ticket to New York?"
The woman adjusted her glasses, "Are you alone?"
Luke shook his head, "Dad's in the bathroom."
The woman's eyes squinted at Luke before turning towards her computer. Luke heard the telltale clicks of the mouse scrolling and waited with bated breath.
"Twenty-seven dollars."
The blond visibly deflated, shoulders sagging and head turned down. "Never mind," he muttered. "I'll wait for Dad."
Luke meandered towards the crowd, shuffling his feet as he went. He wondered what his class would be doing. They were in the third grade, and had just learned their multiplication tables. Mrs. Angelidis was reading James and the Giant Peach. He would never find out if James and his friend survived the Cloud-men.
He bumped into the same man in the suit, falling down on his rear end painfully. The man, still on his phone, paused and glanced at the boy before hurrying off.
Luke didn't feel guilty about taking the man's ticket.
At 10:32 AM, Luke was aboard the Northeast Regional 137, heading towards Penn Station. His backpack was finally off, sitting on the empty chair next to him. He took out the Tupperware, eyeing the peanut butter and jelly sandwich. The boy sighed, a sound much too old for his age, and took a bite of the sandwich. Memories of wind-chimes, lemonade, and picnics filtered through his mind as he angrily ignored them.
But he couldn't ease the nagging worry in his mind. Mom would be okay without me. Right?