HEY GUYS, I'M BACK.
It's been a loooong time since I posted a longer fanfic, but I never really had the heart or will to finish it and actually think of something for the characters to do. I'm going to delete Violet's story, and then restart it another day, but right now, I'm focused on this and two others I'm writing.
SO. I really hope you enjoy this!
Disclaimer: This will probably be one of the few times I will write this out (again, it's FANFiction. It's called that for a reason), but I don't own the Percy Jackson series. I only own my OCs.
Life has a nasty way of surprising innocent children with the truth of the real world. You spend most of your young years believing the world is a fun, safe, beautiful place, then, BOOM, you're sent into a world of monsters to go die. Well, okay, not all innocent children. Just the children of the gods.
I should probably stop right there, before I get ahead of myself.
My name's Brooklyn Smith. No, I don't live in New York, but Arizona. My dad is from New York, if it's any consolation. I'm a bit over thirteen years old, and I attend school at Vincent Park Public School (or, at least, I did).
My safe little world disappeared when a small brown package appeared on my doorstop. I know, it's a bit melodramatic, but it's true.
It all began a few days after my thirteenth birthday. I had already recieved all my gifts from my family, which was basically my father and aunt, so I had retired to the couch and was watching a rerun of one of my favorite shows on cable: Law and Order: Special Victims Unit. The defendant had just be found guilty and they were reading off his punishment and jail sentence when the doorbell rang.
"Hey, Brooks," I heard my father call from his study, which was down the hall. "Can you get that? I've got to finish this, and I only have five minutes to do it." That's my dad, the procrastinator of the family. You'd expect it to be the kid with ADHD and dyslexia, not the single parent.
I got up from the couch and made my way to the door. I couldn't see anyone waiting for me when I looked through the small window at the top, and when I opened it, nobody jumped out at me. Instead, there was a small brown package, about the size of one of those Yankee Candles, a foot in front of me. It was wrapped in paper, like a present. I stared down at it, confused for a moment. If a delivery man had left it here, I should have been able to at least see its truck when I looked out.
After a few minutes, deciding that the mystery of how the box came to be would probably never be solved, I picked up the box. It was surprisingly light, even for its size. I gave it an experimental shake, like a little kid would do to its Christmas presents, and I heard the dull thunk of something small hitting the side of the box. When I turned it over in my hands, I saw that there was no address written on the box. Either the person who delivered this was really sure that this was the right house, or it was one of the anonymous gifts that people supposedly do.
"Brooks, what's up?" My father's voice brought me back to reality, and I stepped back inside the house, shutting the door behind me. I raised the package a little to show him what the bell was about, and he frowned. "What's that?"
"Expected you to know that, Dad," I said quietly, leaning against the door. My father moved into the kitchen, and gestured for me to take a seat on one of the stools next to the island. I obliged as he turned to the fridge and pulled out two cokes, setting them down for us both. He pulled a stool to the other side of the island and sat across from me. I set the box on the island and we both stared at it, taking sips from our beverages every few seconds.
"Address?" My dad asked me.
"None," I replied. "No sign that it was supposed to be given to anyone in particular. No delivery truck was in sight, or hearing, either."
"Must have been hand delivered," He mumbled. My dad grabbed the box and looked it over, muttering intelligible things under his breath. I guess I should take this time to mention that my dad is the head detective on the city's police force. He used to work for the NYPD, and had the chance to become their head detective. Instead, he moved to Arizona to be closer to my Grandmother, who looked like she used telegrams when she was a child.
Eventually, he put the package on the island with a nod. He seemed a tad paler than he was when he started observing it, but not by much. "It's safe, as far as I can tell," he told me as he got up from his stool. My dad crossed the room and took his jacket off the rack, beginning to get ready for work. "I've got to get going, you take that up to your room and open it. It's probably a late birthday present." He grabbed his car keys, and opened the door. "Be safe, love you."
"Love you too," I called out as he walked outside. I hadn't moved my stare from the box. I could tell my dad knew what was in it, and that it spooked him, but my dad was one of the toughest people I knew. And, packages just didn't randomly appear on your doorstep. There were a lot of missing links and pieces of information that just did not add up. But, everything somehow tied back to what was in the box.
I jumped off the stool, and grabbed the box, before sprinting to my room and leaping onto the bed. My mattress let out a pained noise as I landed on top of it, causing all the textbooks that were on it to fly onto the ground.
Re-positioning myself so I was sitting, I leaned against the headboard and cradled the package in my hands. I was having second thoughts about opening it. It had spooked my dad. Obviously, it was bad news and it was something I shouldn't have been messing with. If my dad was scared of it, that means it must be terrifying to a thirteen year old girl. But, somehow, I knew I had to open it now.
With a deep breath, I began carefully pulling the paper off of the box. I didn't want to damage the paper, for fear there might be something written on it. Once the paper was off, and I realized it was message free, I crumbled it up and tossed to the growing pile of paper in the corner. Now I had a simple cardboard box, that opened at one end. I quickly pulled it apart and turned it upside down. A necklace tumbled out.
This necklace wasn't your typical necklace. It was a leather band, large enough to slip over my head, and it was adjustable to my preference, which I thought was kind of cool. On the necklace was a single charm, a large steel disc that looked like a coin. It was misshapen, like before they had machines making the currency. On one side was a pair of swords, crossing in the middle and making an "X", while above that was a scale. When I flipped it over, I saw a weird inscription written on the other side. It was a single word, written in some weird language. Just looking at it, I could tell it was Ancient. But, the weird thing was, I felt like I knew what it meant, like it was on the tip of my tongue. I found myself rubbing the inscription, and a sad feeling rising into my throat.
The doorbell rang for the second time that day.
I jumped a little as the chime echoed through my empty house, then quickly got to my feet, putting on the necklace as I walked to the door. Nobody came to my house this often. The only visitors we ever got were my aunt from Chicago and my Grandmother. One person at the door was rare, but two was something of legend. But, apparently, legend felt like showing up today.
When I opened the door, I was greeted by a delivery man. He was wearing a postman's uniform, with a mail carrier slung over his shoulder. Under his arm was a clothing box, and in his hand was one of those electronic signature tablets, with a strange looking stylus. He had curly black hair underneath his hat, and a crooked smile. The guy looked nice enough, so I didn't know why I felt the need to check my pockets to make sure nothing had been taken.
"Afternoon," He said with a grin. "Are you Brooklyn Smith?" When I nodded, he held the stylus and tablet for me. "Delivery from your mother. Sign here please."
My blood ran cold. Mother?
I grabbed the tablet out of his hand and hastily signed my name. The delivery man must have really rattled my brain, because when I went to return the stylus, I could have sworn it said something along the lines of "Good luck". The man gave me my package, tipped his hat in a goodbye, and left. I closed the door slowly, and held the box in shaky hands.
My mother sent me this. The mother that was supposed to be dead. She died in a car accident when I was an infant. A drunk driver had crossed the median and hit her head on. She was killed on impact.
Or, at least, that's what I was told. This box was proof enough she was still alive.
I tore the box open, not treating it with the same care I did the other gift. I tossed the lid on the ground, and dug through the tissue paper. When I finally tore it all away, I saw a small, lightweight, athletic jacket. It looked liked an old fashion Adias jacket, black with three stripes going up the arm sleeves. But, where the brand symbol should have been was an "N". When I turned it around, there was the outline of folded bird wings on the back. I had no idea what was with the "N", and the bird wings just seemed incredibly out of place, but I felt something boil inside of me. Anger.
My mother had been alive, and she skipped out on twelve years of my life, only to give me a jacket on my birthday. I really felt the love.
In frustration, I threw the jacket back in the box and hurled it at the couch. It landed silently, and I turned and marched out the door. This day had just been too weird for me, and fresh air always seemed to clear my thoughts and calm my hyperactive brain. And, boy, I needed some calming.
I lived in a more rural part of Williams, Arizona. There's a very small forest behind my house that I normally ended up exploring when my father was out. He always yelled at me for it, being a concerned parent and all, but this was my form of teenage rebellion.
The sun beat down mercilessly as I jogged to the forest's edge. My pace gradually slowed as a nauseous feeling swept over me. Something was telling me not to go into that forest. But, stupidly, I ignored it. I mean, I'd been going in there for as long as I could remember. It didn't scare me then, and why should it have scared me now?
As soon as I stepped into the shade of the trees, the temperature dropped about ten degrees to a wonderful, and tolerable, warmth. I smiled happily, closing my eyes and basking in the few rays of light that had penetrated the trees. I had the beginning of the forest mapped in my head. I knew every tree root, every bush, and where the few animals tended to hang out.
I don't know how long I had been walking when I eventually opened my eyes to see where I was. No, I was not lost. I had a perfect understanding of where I was, thank you very much. To the right was a small trail heading to a lesser dense part of the forest that I remembered biking down with my dad. To my right, the forest seemed to get darker, and looked a tad spooky. Till that day, I normally would've kept going straight, and end up relaxing by a small creek. If I was bored, I'd end up scaling the trees, getting steadily higher from the ground with each climb.
But, today, I wanted a small adventure.
I turned right, stepping over rocks and fallen trees expertly. Even if I hadn't been down that path, I'd had a lot of practice. As I walked, I began to wonder how long it had been since I left my house. As the forest got denser, it got darker. Almost no light was passing through the trees now, and the temperature had dropped significantly. Both seemed a bit odd, considering it was only the beginning of autumn, and I decided to head back.
When I turned around, I almost had a coronary.
None of the trees looked the same. What was behind me did not look like the scenery I've been passing. It was too dark, and too dense. The mold on the rocks had grown from a small amount to a giant freaking mass. The few plants that were no longer there.
I spun around in panic, trying to regain my surroundings. I didn't recognize anything.
Overhead, there was a loud cry. I looked up to see a large...thing...weaving through the trees. It let out the cry again, which I realized was similar to an eagle's call, and seemed to dive towards the earth.
Straight towards me.
I hit the deck just in time, but I could feel the eagle's claws pass over my head by inches. The bird let out a frustrated squawk, but I was already on my feet and running in a random direction, dodging trees like a pro. I could hear the eagle regaining its bearings and coming at me for a second blow. It soared into the sky and disappeared among the tree branches.
I stopped, and hide behind a tree, pressing myself to the trunk. I knew it was a terrible hiding spot, but this way I didn't have to worry about the bird coming from my back. I looked around wildly for anything that could be used as a weapon. A few feet away was a giant stick that I doubted I could lift, and next to that was a twig and a few rocks. Everything else was farther away and I cursed mentally.
The eagle's call came again. I looked around, and spotted it coming at me from the left. Its eyes burned with annoyance that I wasn't easy prey.
Cursing, I spun around to the other side of the tree, narrowly dodging the bird, and sprinted off again, only to be see there was a log in my way. It would take too much time to go around it. So, instead, I ran towards it, stepped onto the fallen tree, and pushed off with all my might, easily clearing a few feet, just as I heard the eagle's squawk again. It was much closer this time.
I landed with a thud, and stumbled forward, practically landing on my face. Maybe I should have went around.
I tried to scramble to my feet, but a shadow passed over me. Something tightened its grip around my ankle. Before I could do anything, I was upside down and airborne.
HERP, HERE WE GO.
Aight, so, here's chapter one. I hope you enjoyed it. I'm going to try and finish chapter two over break (I have this entire week off, it's AMAZIN') but I can't make any promises.
IN THE MEAN TIME. YOU SHOULD READ SON OF NEPTUNE IF YOU HAVEN'T ALREADY BECAUSE IT'S BEAUTIFUL.
Personally, I prefer TLH, but that's just me.
Have you guys all read SON yet? ._.
Also, you should go read VIRALS, by Kathy Reichs. The second book came out recently. If you like Maximum Ride, and BONES, this is for you.
Okay, I'm going to go now.
-Juliette
Daughter of Hecate.
(P.S. Thoughts on Brooklyn's parentage, and the jacket she got? :D)
