The world is not kind. You know that. You're five years old, but you understand. There are bad people in the world. The only way to keep yourself away from that is to toughen up. So you scowl. You stomp. And you generally scare all of your classmates. Well, good. Who needs them anyway?
You look at the little girls dressed all in pastels. Mommy says pastels are weak colors. You don't want to be weak. You wear red, the color of blood.
You scowl at the boys who are running around, screaming. Mommy says screaming is a sign of weakness unless you're shouting at someone. So you don't scream when you're afraid. You shout.
You sneer at the way the kids play meaningless games. Mommy says you don't have time to play. You have to get as tough as you can get. So you sneer harder.
Mommy says she does it because she wants Daddy to love you. That Daddy won't love you if you act like the others. Daddy will only love you if you are tough. So you try.
You have no friends. Mommy says good riddance. Friends make you weak, make you lose your toughness. Daddy doesn't have friends. So you hold your head up high when telling someone you don't have friends and laugh when you push them for laughing at you.
Mommy says it's what will make Daddy proud of you.
You want to make Daddy proud of you.
But sometimes….
Sometimes, you're not so sure.
You look at the little girls braiding each other's hair and wish you had someone to do that will your hair. But Mommy says Daddy won't be proud of you if your hair is that way.
You look at the kids all huddled up together and feel the pain of loneliness, of knowing that you drove all those kids away from you, of knowing that no one will ever care about you that way. But you remember that Daddy doesn't like you to be friends with people. It's not something he can be proud of.
You stare at the kids playing Four-Square and T-Ball and wonder what it would be like to play with them, to join in the laughter and the cheering. Could it really be so bad? But if it won't make Daddy proud of you, then it's not worth doing.
And sometimes….
Sometimes you want to scream.
You want to tell the world that under that thick exterior, there is someone else.
You are not a bully.
You are not a rough person.
You are not a daughter of Ares.
You want to tell them that underneath all that, there is someone who has never been allowed to show her face.
Who has been buried by the insecurities and the doubts.
Under all that meanness, there is someone else.
Under all of your exterior, you are just a little girl who wants to make your Daddy proud.
A/N: And that is the true nature of Clarisse La Rue. At least, my take on it. I think that Clarisse must have had some influence when she was young to have become the harsh person she is now. I personally think she was pressured to make her father proud and happy, making her greatest fear her father being angry with and, more importantly, disappointed in her, as is seen in Percy Jackson and the Stolen Chariot, a short story in The Demigod Filesin which Percy meets Phobos and Deimos, twin gods of fear, on Staten Island and must help Clarisse get the Chariot of Ares back. Hope you liked it!