Her first memory was of her father. Her father, the god Apollo. A memory of him holding her, smiling, lifting her above his head. Seeing her mother smiling as she saw her daughter for the first time. Seeing blood, red and glistening, arced on the pristine, white walls of the hospital room. Then remembering her mother screaming, a man made of wind coming in catching her as she fell from her father's arms. Her father staggering back into the bloodstained walls, a spear of wind piercing through his chest, golden blood cascading down.The man looking at her in disgust. The man throwing her through the window, falling, falling, dying. A golden light, warm arms, her father there again. Her father crying, his face so distraught, him looking at her with a look of regret, then cold ground as her set her down on the asphalt of the hospital parking lot. A light of silver as an equally beautiful woman comforted him. Her eyes filled with pity as she looked at the girl. Then black nothingness.
Violet Finch woke to the sound of an alarm clock. She looked to her left, the clock read 5:45. She groaned. Well, it was more of an expression than an audible sound. Violet was mute. Ever since an accident involving two cars, an angry driver, and a piece of window glass, she had been unable to express her opinion. Her life was full of writing, frustration, and bullies who called her creative names like "purple" or "birdy". She had to get to school in an hour. She made another exasperated facial expression at the thought. Violet had ADHD and dyslexia so being mute and having to write everything was extremely difficult and a pain in the ass. Especially because she was unable to sing anymore. She had loved singing. When she was little, heads would turn in the mall or at the playground because of her singing. She had hated the attention, but had loved making others happy. She anxiously rubbed the scar at her throat. Time to get up, she thought to herself. She pushed back the covers and slid out of bed. Violet went through her daily routine, shower, breakfast, dressing, then out the door. Before she left she checked on her mother. She was sleeping soundly, liquor bottles tipped over around her bed. Violet sighed inwardly. She left some Advil and a glass of water on her mother's bedside table and left for high school.
Violet reached her class just as the bell rang, while reaching into her bad to take out notes she saw the teacher, Mrs.Thompson, walk into the room and clear her throat. "Ahem. Good morning class. Today we are introducing three new students: Perseus Jackson, Annabelle Chase, and Will Solace." The room started whispering immediately. "You can have the three seats in the back next to Violet. Oh, Violet? Would you mind giving them a tour of the school, please?" Violet looked at Mrs.Thompson, an expression of pure dismay on her face and wrote in big letters on her notepad: Ma'am, you are aware of my situation, are you not? You do understand that I am not capable of touring anybody, or giving any sort of speech right now or ever, in my current condition?
Mrs.Thompson gasped, realization dawning on her as she read Violet's writing. "I am so sorry, Violet. I-I-I am s-so sorry. It totally slipped my mind, you know it's the begininning of the school year and I woke up late this morning and I..." Violet listened to the woman make excuse after excuse and thought it pitiful and disgusting. The expression on her face remained neutral, however, and she raised her hand to stop the woman before she had a mental breakdown. She wrote hastily:
I will tour them but it may take longer than usual. I hope you will be kind enough to give me a generous grade on today's assignment while I'm gone.
The inexperienced teacher looked at the student and stuttered, "I d-don't think that w-would b-b-be appropriate."
But ma'am, are you now suggesting that because of my condition I'm incompetent and unable to perform a task you have given me yourself?
Violet walked up to the teacher and got close to her face. The transfer students, as well as the regular ones, were looking at her in shock. She could have kissed the teacher if she wanted. Instead she leaned close to her ear and blew on it will cold air. Her lips grazing the woman's neck as she pulled away. The poor teacher was blushing fiercely, but Violet was smirking. "Y-yes. I could give you an appropriate grade on this week's test. Now g-go give these students a tour, please Miss Finch." The young woman tried to regain her authority over the girl, but little did she know the girl had dirt on everyone. Secrets that she knew and nobody else. Secrets that could make that poor, new teacher lose her job, and make the rich Principal go bankrupt. But the girl knew how to play the game of her school. The real question was, what stakes did these new students have to throw in, and how long before they, like everyone else, were killed by Violet's silent song.