You might not expect a seven year old girl to know pain and agony when she see's it, but I'm not your average seven year old girl now am I?
It all started when I was five, when who's now known as my worst nightmare came along, waltzing right through our door. Gabe Ugliano. The name fit him, seeing that he had a big ugly scar running down his face from the right corner of his forehead down to his upper lip, just a long scraggily line with obvious stitch marks.
I knew from the second I saw him that he didn't have any good intentions for barging right into my home. It happened so quickly: Daddy pushed me under the cupboard and blocked it while my step-mom Sue backed up against the wall.
Right before my eyes, Gabe killed Daddy with a large butcher knife with the blade thin and sharp, glaring coldly in the one second flash of lightning. Then it was dark…And I heard Daddy fall to the floor, half of the long, shiny blade hidden in his chest.
I screamed as a thick, sticky red liquid quickly dyed his white polo shirt. And I knew for a fact that it was not the sweet cranberry juice Daddy would give me in the morning with my pancakes and eggs shaped in a smiley face.
I didn't mean to scream, really! And I really didn't want Gabe to grab me around the neck with one fist, ripping me out of the cupboard so carelessly that I hit my head on the wood. I yelped and sobbed as he only tightened his grip, kicking and screaming and wanting air.
Why did he kill Daddy? Who was he? Sue cried out my name, and that only gave attention to her self, doing anything but saving me. Next thing I know, Sue's falling to the ground, her nicely polished fingernails scratching against the wall as she fell, her hands leaving a nice trail of blood.
Gabe grinned at me, snickering and scratching his awfully shiny bald head as if he had hair there and whispered in my ear, "Night, night, brat."
With a 'no' escaping my lips in a scream, I fell like a ragdoll onto the cold, hard tiles, head first.
"Wake up, you little brat! I said, WAKE UP!" He slapped me across the left cheek, eyes filled with venom. I cried silently and scrambled back until my spine hit someone's leg. I gasped and my head snapped up as I scrambled away from this stranger too.
The unfamiliar man pulled me up and chuckled, "Better listen to what he says, girly." I immediately fell back down when Gabe emerged from the shadows and glared down at me with small, beady, onyx colored eyes. He laughed cruelly as the other man punched me in the face, yelling, "Fetch him some beer, you worthless pest!"
Gabe glared into the shadows behind him and yelled in a booming voice, "Boy! Get over here right now before I pound you, dammit!" There's somebody else here too? I'm not suffering alone?
A boy my age and size emerged from the shadows and glared right back at Gabe, shouting, "Oh, why should I listen to you, you obese son of a lousy pig!" In the next second, Gabe's dirty fist connected with the boy's jaw, and the boy fell back. Without yelping and crying like me, he stood right back up, wiped the blood from his mouth and snarled.
"You fight like my smelly old grandmother, Gabe Ugliano!" That's how I learned the murder's name. Gabe just snorted just like the pig the boy claimed him to be and waved it off.
"Take this girl to the kitchen to get us some beer, and don't try any tricks, Jackson." The boy stuck his tongue out at him, then grabbed my bruised wrist and dragged me to a rotten old room that must've been the kitchen. Ignoring the awful, throbbing pain in my head, I followed him, eager to get some answers out of the kid.
He glanced around, pulled me to the right so we were out of sight and whispered, watching me with wide, sea green eyes, "I'm Percy Jackson, what's your name?"
I sniffled and rubbed my eye, "Annabeth Chase. Wh-why am I here? Why'd he kill my parents? Why are you here?" He scratched his raven colored hair that stuck to his forehead, damp with sweat and blood, his eyebrows scrunched together in a frown.
"He found me and my mom, and he forced my mom to marry him, and I'm supposed to be…to be some sorta slave or something. It was just us with Gabe's smelly old freak show creeps until you came yesterday. What he does is horrible, just killing people like this…it's just not right! He gives me stupid little crumbs and scraps, and maybe some stale bread if I'm lucky and a shower to me is a cup of filthy ol' dirty water over my head!"
I cried again, looking down at my dirty feet, "I wanna go home!" He covered my mouth quickly, shaking his head furiously.
"Can't show any weakness here, Annie! He'll pound you into dust! It's horrible! Now just stay behind me and keep on quiet. Don't worry!" He grinned, flashing me a perfectly dimpled, pearly white smile that just didn't fit his messy appearance and turned around to the fridge.
He got three beers and we scampered back to Gabe. He shoved one at Gabe, and the other at the man who punched me, who gave me a toothless grin. He went over to another man that I hadn't noticed and tossed it to him.
My new friend scowled hostilely up at Gabe and crossed his arms, "Anything else, you fat cow?" Gabe ruffled his hair, but the boy pushed away his hand with a look of disgust. Well I sure couldn't agree more: Gabe's a filthy criminal who uses kids as slaves. I think he deserves to rot!
Gabe took a big swish of beer and shrugged, "I'll call you if I think of something. Now hurry up and get out of here! And take the little brat with you!" My friend scoffed, grabbed my arm and took me down the hall and into a small room with one bed that had a dirty pillow and a thin beat up blanket hanging halfway off. It had a small shelf that only had one other shirt and a box of matches, and I think I spotted a small bible laying face down in a corner.
He shut the door behind him and glanced up pitifully at the small light bulb providing pathetically little light, "This is it, my room. But I think of it as a prison. Let's clear this up first; my real name is Perseus, but I'd rather be called Percy instead, though the name is kinda cool, you gotta admit. And now, this is our room. Gabe thinks this room is too much space taken up by me, but my mom convinced him…somehow."
We sat on the bed and wrapped the blanket around our shoulders. I sniffed, "Where's your mom?" He shrugged, glaring at the bare wall opposite of us.
"He knows how smart I am. He keeps her somewhere else, locked up, and I hardly even see her." I frowned at a mirror hanging in an odd angle on the back of the shut door, the corner shattered, but still in place.
"How long have you been here?" I asked.
He shrugged, smiling slightly, "About a minute or two." I punched him weakly in the arm, smirking.
"No, stupid! How long has he kept you and your mom trapped in this awful place?" He pointed at an old calendar on the floor, a foot from the little bible.
"I've been counting. It's been over two years, he got us when I was five," he looked resentful for a second, then beamed at me. "Guess what!"
I shrugged, slightly annoyed, mostly cold, "I don't know, what?" He grinned.
"My birthday's in a month! I'm gonna be eight on August 18th! And Gabe's even gonna let me see my mom!"
I smiled back in a weak effort; it was just so cold! "That's great!" Just minutes later we laid down, sharing the pillow, and fell asleep…and I think he was drooling. Eck. Boys… But at least I had a friend, and after two years of this muck, I can't believe he's still nice.
And he's the first friend I've ever had.