Author Notes: I'm still working on Strangeland; just stuck alright? For all of you who care. Anyway; tell me what you think R&R
I've never been close to my father. He was a recovering alcoholic who had many relapses, angry relapses, abusive relapses. I lived in fear that one day he would snap and killed me. Like he did Bianca, my sister. Luckily, he did not succeed, but he was charged with assault two years ago and I've been living with my mom's grandmother since.
Today he was being released, his gold-digger—trophy wife—Persephone, paid bail. Saying I didn't like Persephone would be a understatement. She is indirectly the reason I suffer from insomnia since age six. She would come into my room at all hours and just beat me. She harassed me to the point I would just stare up at ceiling; waiting for her to come back. Bianca caught on when I was about ten and she decided to crash in my room with me. Her reason being that she didn't spend enough time with me, which was true, but it was mostly my fault. I was a loner at heart, I never liked being at parties, or taking random people home just to fuck, and I wasn't social in general. I am who I am, and because of that I never got a chance to really connect with my mother and sister—sisters now. Hazel is our newest addition and is now four years old. We adopted her two years ago and I was determined to make a difference in her life—to be there for her. Gods knows, she's going to need it when I leave for college in two years. Spending twenty-four hours was enough time to realize that my father and Persephone were unstable. One time Persephone beat me to a inch of my life—and I mean that literally. just because I had spilled a cup of tea on her boss at the time. Afterward, when the police shows up, she claimed that it had been a bulling accident at my school while she cried fake tears. I was fourteen and I have never hated her more than anyone in my entire life. And I have a lot of hate and anger to go around.
Persephone is also the reason why I had a hard time getting close to new people, especially women. Oh course, I had Rachel, Valentina, and sometimes Annabeth when she wasn't sucking faces with whoever she was currently dating. But that was a different story...mostly.
Moreover, my father was being released and I was all alone. With them. Bianca was still in a coma and showed no sign of leaving it, Hazel was spending time with my mother's grandparents in Italy, and Valentina, Rachel and Annabeth were all going to a summer camp, Camp Half-Something, that Annabeth had apparently been going to since age seven. They had asked me to go along with them, but I flat out refused because of my pride. They only asked me out of pity, but I saw flash in Annabeth's eyes that day. Something I haven't seen since I had told her about my parents instability. Worry and hurt. I didn't understand.
They left without me; and my father was being released. I sighed mentally, panic working through my body like poisonous venom. I shivered and looked at my watch. It was twenty minutes past four. I figured Persephone was doing some last minute paperwork or something. I wouldn't know; I left as soon as some lady told me my father was being released. I was currently leaning against the criminal justice building; smoking a Newport that I had pick-pocked off a old women walking by. I felt bad because she was old, but really, why would a seventy-something year old smoking anyway? I took another puff and blew out, right when a tall, brunette guy walks around the corner and right when I let out the smoke through my nose. He stopped mid-step and scowled at me. At closer look I realized his hair is more black than brown and he has bright, mischief, green eyes, that made my brown made mine look like a muddy, dingy, brown. He stared at me, eyes narrowed.
I couldn't take it anymore, I snapped. "What?" I didn't like the way he was looking at me—like he expecting something.
"Aren't you going to say sorry?"
I snorted in reply; was he serious? "Your the one who walked into it, not me." He grumbled something underneath his breath, but walked away. A slight scowl on his face. I finished my cigarette and quickly took the short walk to Time Square. I have lived in NY for a good chunk of my life and Time Square still took my breath away. TS was a indescribable beauty. It's what new artist's came to NY to see; it was a inspiring sight. I walked around aimlessly for a few minutes before settling into a outside table meant for two before I whipped out my trusty phone of three years and did a conference call to my three friends. Rachel was the first to pick up.
"Hey Death Breath, how's it going?" she greeted; my father work as a mortician, not something I went around flaunting, but Rachel was cool with it.
"Not much" I said, I heard the line make another click sound. It was Annabeth.
"Hello" she said, she sounded grumpy.
"What's wrong with you?" Rachel and I said in unison. Valentina decided to click on the line right then.
"She got he panties in a twist because the hot guy just came to camp, who by the way, is mega hot! She 's been flirting with him all day and he brushed her off in front of her mother calling them—"
"Shut it, VV!" Annabeth screeched into the phone and directly into my ear. It was loud enough for the people walking by me to stop and stare.
"just friends" Valentina said, her tone mocking. I loved Valentina; but she could grind on anyone's nerves if she tried hard enough. I couldn't help but laugh and Rachel joined in too.
"Yeah, I saw him too. And for once I gotta agree with the slut; he is uber sexy" she let out a low whistle. I couldn't help but notice the 'slut' reference. It was no secret the Valentina...been around. But not the way Rachel thinks, and felt my cheeks grow pink with anger. I loved Rachel too, but she didn't know the whole story.
"Never say that" I damn near growl into the phone. There was a long silence on each end.
"Nicky—" Annabeth starts. But I ended the call before she could continue. I slipped my phone in my pocket and immediately felt it vibrate. I ignored it as a waitress walked over too my table, swinging her hips a little more than necessary. She lowered her eyes and cocked her head to the side. I looked down at my lap, trying to control my laughter. I didn't get hit on a lot, but when I do, I always end up insulting (only the girls though) them.
"Would you like to order something" she purred into my right ear. I shook more violently with laughter. But I quickly looked over the menu before ordering a latte. She nodded quickly before heading back into the shop. Again, swinging her hips. I waited all of two seconds before bursting out into laughter. Some of the other customers sent me wary looks but in the end, ignored me. NY, remember? To many crooks and crazy's to keep up with. The girl came back, latte in hand. Phone number ready underneath the napkin, when I saw this I looked up at her. She winked. I laughed again, she looked affronted but didn't saying anything as she walked away, not bothering to swish. By the time I had finished my latte and walked half-way home before I realized why I had avoided doing it for the past two hours. Gods of Twelve, I was stupid. There was nowhere I could go, I would be stuck with them. I felt my stomach heave as I clutched it tightly, leaning against a nearby wall. My skin broke out in cold sweat and I began to shake. I squeezed my eyes shut. No, no, no, no! I can't...not again. My brain turned to mush as it came reality that I would have to go back. I opened my eyes and took a shaky breath. Calming myself. With shaky legs, I began my short trek home.
…...
When I got home my father was sitting in his leather-bound arm chair with the biggest shit-eating grin on his face. "Hello, Nicky." He said, not losing his grin in the process.
"Good evening, father" I said, proud that my voice didn't quiver in the slightest. "It's pleasant to see you again." Formal. Good. His grin stretched impossible wider and he made the universal 'come here' sign. I didn't move, his eyes danced with delight and made the sign again. Still I didn't move, just put yourself in my position, what would you do if your father, who had been in jail for that past two years for assault and attempted murder, a recovering alcoholic plus turned prescription pill addict, do if he wanted you to come closer. Picture it. Even then you would understand the mind-numbing fear that makes your knees weak, skin sweaty, and above all, paralyzed. He shook his head slowly and stood up. I had forgotten how tall my father was until he standing in front of me. My father was a whooping seven-zero to my four-three. He walked deliberately slowly over to me until I had to crane my neck to properly look up at him.
"Why, Nicky" he said my nickname his a mocking manner. "Why so formal? I am your father after all" I gritted my teeth to refrain myself from saying a angry retort that would surely get me back-handed. "Come, Persephone is making a welcome home dinner" he said, slinging his arm around my shoulders and leading me into the dinning room.
True to my father's words; Persephone was setting the table with a assortment of foods arranging from different backgrounds and cultures. I felt my stomach growl loudly. I eaten a light breakfast this morning and had skipped lunch. But I knew better than to trust Persephone cooking. That last time Persephone cooked a feast just for us as a family (the word made my stomach turn) she had purposely put Comet and Pinesol and it had made me sick for two whole months. She kept feeding it to me until I literally had to be sent to the hospital. When I got older I learned how to throw up on command; not that I did it often, just when I was suspicious. Like know. She smiled at me sweetly before brushing off her hands on her flower-patterned apron. "Welcome home, Nicholas." her blood-red heels clicked loudly on the wooden floor of the dinning room. She quickly crossed the room to kiss me on the cheek. I stared at her; a mixture of surprise, shock, and down right confusion. I heard the door bell ring and Persephone quickly tore off her apron, fixed the slim, black dress underneath, and walked back into the living room to answer the door.
Voices; many voices. I could tell most of them were filled with forced joy. I heard Persephone fake laughter as she said "right this way—I can't wait for young Perseus to meet our Nicholas!" I had to contain a eye roll as I heard mindless chatter. I sat down at my usual spot as Persephone, followed by two other people, joined my father and I at the table. The first person to walk into the room was a middle aged man and woman—who quickly introduced themselves as Sally and Paul Blofis. Sally, for lack of better word, was stunning. You had a incredible smile and bright, green eyes. I frowned; she looked familiar. The man looked nothing like Sally—he had jet black hair—or you too because there was streaks of white peppered in there. It worked for him though. The last person to come through—how was introduced as Perseus—looked a lot like Sally. He wore a white, buttoned-down, v-neck shirt with matching shorts. Our eyes connected and his eyes immediately went wide. Now I know why Sally looked so familiar.
Perseus—or Percy as he continued to correct—was the same guy from the criminal justice building. Well, this was awkward. I admit, I acted like a jerk. But in my defense; he did walk into the smoke. We continued to stare at one another until some cleared the throat quietly. We both turned to meet Sally's confused stare. "Do you..." she trailed off "do you too know each other?"
We both nodded but gave away no information. She sent Percy and questioning glance as Persephone did the same to me. We both refused to meet our mother figures piercing stares.
…...
Dinner went smoothy and I only talked when spoken too—so did Percy. Which I found kind of funny, he didn't seem like the loner type. But in the end, I shrugged it off. I just met him a few hours ago. I knew nothing about him. I felt a twinge in my stomach as I thought that with a frown. For some unknown reason, I didn't like that. Moreover, by the time dinner was over Persephone and Sally had become friends (so did my father and Paul) and decided me and Percy should be friends.
Translation: your going to be friends.
I had also gotten Percy's phone number and he had gotten mine—much to his dismay. Fine, I didn't even really like the bastard anyways. When everything was said and done for the evening (the were coming back next week though) I was dismissed to my room, left with many questions and no answers. Why was my father and Persephone acted so nice to me? It's not like they liked or wanted me around. Halfway up the stairs another thought occurred. The Blofis' weren't our neighbors, so why were they here? Did one of them work for Social Services? That would make sense. But I had a feeling that wasn't it. I sighed as I reached my room and flopped down on my bed. Bouncing up and down several times.
I didn't want to think anymore—so I decided to call the girls back.
They all answered during the first chime. I waited for a few seconds before saying—nothing.
"Hello?" They said in unison, I replied with a weak 'hey'.
"What happened?" Rachel demanded. And for some reason. I told them. Everything. Starting with my abuse as a child and ending with Persephone's strange behavior this evening. I even told them about Percy.
There was a long silence; then, all three girls began talking at once. Rachel in a affronted motherly tone. Annabeth in a friendly yet still outraged. And Valentina was strangely quiet. When they all calmed down. Rachel asked—demanded that I should go to Camp Half-Blood (so that's the name!) I felt my eyes widen in shock. Rachel has always been a troublemaker, but she never took it this far and never sounded this serious. The other two agreed. Of course, I didn't. But after a whole lot of discussing, fighting, and down right insulting each other until I finally relented. By midnight, I had dressed, had a suitcase packed, and had enough money for the taxi ride. I couldn't believe I was actually doing this, but I was. I climbed out my bedroom window, hailed a taxi and was halfway to Long Island before I even realized that I had never hesitated in my decision to leave the only place I could call home.
And I wasn't sad at all.