Broken
Chapter 1
Disclaimer: I do not own the PJ or HoO series by Rick Riodan.
"I've had enough of this. I'm leaving." Lucas says, pushing away from the table and walking towards the bedroom.
I look at mom and her unresponsive expression then get up from the kitchen table and hurry after Lucas. I enter the bedroom to see his big suitcase on the bed and some clothes flung into it. I drift over to the walk-in closet to see Lucas yanking button up shirts and dress pants off of their hangers. He turns around and sees me and his angry expression softens a little.
"I just can't take anymore of this Kyra. Ever since we got back, she's been off. Doing outrageous things and drinking. I just-I can't take it. She's not who she used to be." he says, pushing past me to go back over to the open suitcase.
"I know. I don't know what happened. She seemed so happy at the spa then when I came home she was completely different." I say, running my hand through my short, choppy hair.
"I just want you to know, I'm not doing this to hurt you. I would never hurt you. She's just not the person I married and loved anymore." he says, sadly.
"Please don't leave me here. Don't leave me here with her." I whisper, tears pricking my eyes.
I sit upright in bed, drenched in sweat. It was never a nightmare but it might as well have been one. It had been almost a year since Lucas had left. I had been having that damn dream every night since then.
"Kyra! Get your butt down here for breakfast or you'll be late for work!" she shouts from downstairs.
I groan and drag myself out of my warm bed. I stop to look at myself in the full length mirror and cringe. Now, I look bad every morning, like everybody else. But ever since Lucas left and I've been having that recurring dream of the day he left, I've looked like death every morning.
Dark circles from lack of sleep, hollow eyes from watching my mother drink herself into oblivion, crazy messed up hair from all the tossing and turning. I had lost weight and my clothes hung a little too loosely on my curvy frame. There were bruises on my arms where my mom had grabbed me too hard while she was hammered. Like I said, death.
I glance at the calendar tacked to the wall beside my mirror. It was June first. Fourteen days until I went back to camp. The days just dragged by now.
I hadn't talked to Nico in two weeks because his father had called him down to the Underworld to help with some "crisis". For all I knew, the so called "crisis" could just be Hades' missing bath robe.
Mo has been in Peru with his mother and step-father (she married an extremely rich guy earlier this year).
And to top it all off, John will barely speak to me. He thinks that Lucas leaving and mom's drinking problem are all my fault. He was sympathetic towards me at first but as mom's problem got worse, the less he talked to me and the more glares I got when he did come to check up. All the glares say the same thing. They all say, "You didn't understand the after affects of this. You ruined ours lives. We would have been better off with her not remembering us."
But the truth was, I didn't even know the after effects would be this bad. Hell, I didn't even think there would be after effects. So basically, I have no one to talk to about any of this and I'm sinking into my own depression.
I look away from the mirror and start walking towards the door, wondering what's for breakfast. Probably toaster waffles or cereal. That's what it had been ever since I got home from camp this past summer. I came home to a drunkard for a mother and a father that could barely stand to be in the same room as her.
I march down the stairs. My bare feet hit the cold tiles, sending shivers up my spine. I make my way to the kitchen to find everything I needed for cereal. An empty bowl, a spoon, the cereal box, and the milk. I sigh and pour the cereal into the bowl then the milk on top of that. I walk over to the refrigerator and place the milk back in it's spot and take out the orange juice.
I open the cap and sniff it. It had gone bad, as expected. I look at the expiration date and see it expired two weeks ago. I dump it out into the sink and grab a glass of water instead.
Just as I'm sitting down to my sorry excuse for a breakfast, mom stumbles into the kitchen. There's a whisky bottle in one hand and a smoking cigarette in the other. I inwardly sigh and keep my eyes on my cereal. If she was drinking this early in the morning, I was going to have a lot to deal with when I got home from work. Oh how I wish Lucas had taken me with him.
A/N:
Well, how'd you guys like it? Like I said, it's a bit different than the past three stories. A lot more depressing but it gets better! I promise!
XOXO,
Mrs-diAngelo25
P.S.
Did any of you guys hear that My Chemical Romance broke up yesterday? It makes me really sad because I loved that band!