Hey guys! So I've had this story pending for about a year or so- I've always wanted to post a PJO story so here I am! This will be a long journey for the both of us, I'm telling you now. I just hope that I'll have you all till' the end of the line! I APOLOGIZE IN ADVANCE FOR GRAMMATICAL ERRORS AND HORRIBLE PLOT! WELP! ENJOY THE CHAPTER!
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN PJO!
Hey, I didn't mean for this to happen- I never expected any of these. No, not one bit.
But,
I don't regret what I did because I knew it was right. So if I had a second chance to go back in time, I'll do it again. A third chance? Heck, I'll do it with shades this time! There's no stopping me.
So, you probably think I'm a reckless idiot.
I am.
And you're going to read this reckless idiot's story because you're an idiot too for ignoring Percy's warning. Birds of the same feather flock together, am I right?
My name is Lethe Lawson.
I'm thirteen years old, turning fourteen this coming July. I can tell you a lot of interesting stories about my life but let's start where things began turning crazy. I think it began last February. It was when my father struck a deal with the devil—well, fine, it wasn't the devil—it was with my ex-school's principal. Same thing. Ms. Brillan was a terrible woman who liked to torment me by sending me to random competitions without my permission. I mean who does that, right? It was often than not when I'd be surprised to find myself in a bus to the next school in town for some science fair or something. But, I couldn't complain. Sometimes the congratulatory money I receive from winning was a bonus for my dad.
Not to brag or anything but I'm a smart kid. Well, smarter than most of my classmates. Philadelphia Academy was just a small school down the corner of our street so everybody was as normal as normal can get.
No wonder why I stood out. A girl with ADHD and dyslexia. It also didn't help that I was a beacon for trouble.
"It'll be good for you, Lethe! Stop sulking around and help me pack your clothes." Okay, first of all—I wasn't sulking, I was merely glaring at the wall with a permanent frown on my face. Don't look at me like that! I didn't like the idea of being sent off to some boarding school in upstate New York. Just the thought of being away from my dad was nauseating. Okay, fine, maybe I was sulking but I had a reason, okay?
"Lethe." He called me once more. I harrumphed in defiance. Obviously, my dad wasn't tolerating my mini-tantrum as he continued to fold my underwea—wait, what?!
"DAD!" I dove right in to snatch the offending piece of cloth away from my own dad, who let out a small yelp when it looked like I just dropped out of the sky. "I'll fold my own clothes, thank you very much!" I nudged him away with my foot while I was pretty sure I already resemble an angry tomato from the heat in my cheeks.
Here's a thing or two about my dad.
Awkward. That would be the first thing I'd say if somebody asked me to describe him. My dad had a knack of doing things that were considered either downright weird or crazy—an unfortunate trait that I apparently inherited from him. His name is Carl Lawson. Sounds dreadfully normal, huh? Contrary to our last name, we actually came from Asian descent. Particularly, a Chinese one. My dad grew up here in Brooklyn, America, but my paternal grandparents were directly from China or how we like to call it—the mainland.
I won't delve deep into my dad's life since he barely even talks about it but my favorite part is wherein he'd be in a good mood to tell stories about my mother.
Warmth. A word often associated to mothers. Back when I was in kinder, I often hear my classmates chatter excitedly to themselves whenever dismissal comes, they'd say that their mom would be waiting for them at home to greet them with a warm hug then to tuck them into warm blankets when it was time to sleep.
I often went back home to see our apartment dark and empty. I slept with a cheap cover to protect me from the cold air. My dad is constantly working and I couldn't blame him. Raising a kid alone is some tough business. That was enough for me to admire my dad and perhaps, feel some sort of resentment against my mother. I have no reason to call her my mom. She's just a mother to me. Someone who only gave birth.
But, that doesn't mean I stopped wishing she was here with us.
And I knew, that my dad never did too. It was painstakingly clear that he loved her very much.
"Kids these days." Shaking his head, my dad left me alone in my room. Through the thin walls of our apartment, I could still hear my dad go on and on about how teenagers are so disrespectful today. I stopped the urge to roll my eyes. Typical.
Albeit acting like an old geezer sometimes, my dad is a kind soul. He'd stay up late at night just to finish work in order to feed my mouth. I'd even catch him sometimes pretending to be full just so that I could eat the portion of his meal. Words could never describe the love and respect I have for my dad. I'm glad that I have him with me.
That's why I'm so against the idea of being shipped to a boarding school—I don't think I even know the name of the said school. All I know is that it was in New York and it was for troubled kids.
Well, Ms. Brillan didn't exactly say 'for troubled kids' but I understood the hidden meaning of her words. It wasn't that hard to miss, to be honest.
'It's for her sake, Mr. Lawson. The school is great at handling special kids such as her so you have nothing to worry about. She will be greatly taken care of.'
If my dad wasn't there, I'd probably point out that it almost sound like I was going to be executed in some witch trial.
"Lethe, are you done?"
"Yeah, I am. Where's my suitcase?" I wouldn't call it a suitcase, per say, but it certainly worked wonders for me whenever Philadelphia would hold its annual retreat. It was a gift from my granny when she came back from China after a small family reunion. The bag, itself, wasn't impressive but I was just glad having something to use whenever we would go camping. "Dad?"
Dad stepped inside my room, his hand clasped around a handle.
My jaw dropped.
"Where in the world did you get that?" I gaped as I watched my dad carry in an ancient-looking suitcase. If I wasn't wearing my glasses, I could easily confuse it with a trunk. Wait, are they even different? Huh. But, anyway, I'm not kidding—the thing looked like it belonged to Albus Dumbledore! "Seriously, dad, where?"
"It's mine." Dad answered simply. "I had it way before you were born."
I raised an eyebrow.
"Your mom gave it to me as a gift."
Suddenly, my sports bag seemed so insignificant now.
"We're going to visit gran-gran before going to the boarding school, okay?" Dad said, glancing at me before returning his attention to the road.
I tugged my right earphone off. "Cool." I nodded. Visiting gran-gran in the retirement home was my favorite past time. Don't tell my dad but I used to skip school just to stay there for a few hours, enjoying her company when I was feeling down. My grandmother's a cool lady, she doesn't freak out or complain to dad whenever I'd climb through her window in my school uniform. It was our little secret.
Dad's eyes stayed on me for a few seconds. He checked if I had anything more to say. I had nothing.
I looked outside the window and saw a looming red building not too far. It was the retirement home.
"We'll be there in a few minutes." Dad updated.
And true to my dad's words, before I could even click the next song in mind, dad had already parked the car. We both went out of the car. And just like always, I took a deep breath to enjoy the fresh air.
Another thing I like about visiting here was that the surrounding area was littered with trees. A few bushes, a dainty old fountain, and a creepy gnome statue to match. It was a nice break from the smoke I grew up in Brooklyn. Well, it wasn't bad as the others but still.
"Go ahead inside. You know gran-gran's room, right?"
I know this place as if it was the back of my hand.
"Yeah."
Shooing my dad away, I went to go inside the building. The guard beside the entrance didn't ask for any verifications as I passed by, it seemed like he already recognized my dad from the distance. We were constant visitors, anyway.
I took the first hallway on the right and began looking for that familiar gold plating that said '107'. Not soon after, I found myself standing in front of the said door. Well, I hope it was the correct door.
I knocked.
The door opened.
Warm brown eyes belonging to a smiling old lady greeted me as soon as I opened my arms widely to greet her with a hug. "A-ma!" I wrapped my arms around my grandmother.
"Lethe!" She returned the hug happily.
If there's one thing I love more than anything in this world, it would be my grandmother's hugs—they were heaven on earth. All my anxiety and dread for the boarding school quickly melted away as I focused on the minty and soothing smell of my grandmother.
Like I said, heaven.
"How's my little girl? You turn prettier and prettier each time we visit!" She gushed.
I forced out a laugh. I don't really see what she meant by that considering the fact I just threw in the first shirt I saw on my drawer and didn't really put on any effort to my appearance. I never did. Gran-gran's sight must be worsening.
"Aiyah, look at your glasses! Come come, I'll clean it up for you." After being ushered inside, I took my spot beside gran-gran's bedside. The chair creaked under my weight.
Then, I went blind.
"You should always clean your glasses, Lethe, how can you even walk around with your glasses like this?" Gran-gran clicked her tongue disapprovingly as she wiped the fog away from the lens with her personal silk napkin. "Do you understand?"
"Yes, a-ma." I said, thanking her when she handed my glasses back. I slipped it on and immediately sighed in relief when everything became clear once more. I doubt I could even survive without my glasses. Without it, I'd be as vulnerable as a baby duck. Or a penguin. Or a dog. Or-you get the point.
"Where's Carl?" Gran-gran asked eagerly. She loved dad as much as she loved me.
"I'm right here, mama." Dad answered after magically appearing out of nowhere, his hands occupied with two bags of grocery. I didn't even notice that we had those when we were in the car. "Do you know why we're here?"
"But, of course! Our Lethe will be transferring to a prestigious boarding school!" Gran-gran clasped her hands together in excitement as she also pulled dad inside the spacious room. "A private one, at that!"
Before I even knew it, dad and gran-gran were already deep in conversation. Probably about the school or something.
So, you're probably wondering how in the world my dad could afford gran-gran a spot in a well-known retirement home here in Brooklyn when he could barely pay for our daily necessities. Well, that's because he's not the one paying. I'm pretty sure I haven't mentioned it before but my dad's not an only child. After migrating to America, my gran-gran gave birth to my aunt. Yes. I have an aunt.
Her name's Lauren. I don't talk to her much but I have an inkling that she's not entirely fond of me. I may have terrible eyesight but I wasn't blind—I always caught her sneaking glares at me when she thinks no one was looking. She's a successful woman and currently a proud owner of a small bakery in New York. Single but pretty well off.
Now that I think about it, I'm actually glad dad sent me off to a boarding school. At least that meant I won't be forced to stay with Aunt Lauren. Now, that would be a nightmare.
"…..ethe! Lethe!"
Groaning, I opened my eyes to see my dad leaning over me with a huge smile on his face.
"Good morning to you, sleepyhead. We're here."
"…Where?" I muttered as I stretched my neck to catch a glimpse of the boarding school from the front seat.
"Welcome to Yancy Academy, Lethe."
A-ma = grandmother in Hokkien/Fukkien dialect
Well, there you have it! The first chapter of my PJO story! I know- it's not impressive but I just really really wanted to get this out of my head. It's been staying there for months now! I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE IT! TUNE IN TO FIND OUT MORE ABOUT LETHE LAWSON!
-MTWU out!
