A.N- This was written due to the youtube video "Heart in the Stone-Medusa and the blind baby". So please check it out. This is my take on the video, but the blind baby is Percy Jackson.
A monster is what I am. This is my fate, Medusa the wicked monster. Walking through the village I turn to stone every person that dares draw near to my gaze. Their disturbances are all works of art.
Stone Is Beautiful.
No tears ever turn to rock along with them, those tears would have ruined the image anyway.
It Does Not Weep Or Wail…
So many tried to kill but failed. In battle the intention of both me and the oppressors are clear. That only one will stay alive.
It Does Not Betray Or Lie.
Slowly emotions I once lived with become numb. Which is good, it takes away the effect of anger, pain, and misery. I go towards one of the houses, hearing a child's cry. Their faces are always artistic in stone. A present in stone for me to look at.
It Does Not Grow Up To Suffer.
No longer can I die, yes my body can be used as a decoration. But in the end, the hero dies and I live on. Scorned and mocked, forced to give away as a vagrant. I can see the cradle where the baby cries, don 't worry little child. You will not have to feel those unpleasant emotions once you are stone.
Death…Is Kinder Than Life.
Hissing above the crib, she was ready for her next offering. Holding the infant she looked at the baby, who cares about the gender, wanting to see the skin turn to gray stone. Instead… The child looked deep into her eyes unaffected. The baby's hand reached her face, touching her cold skin.
So Warm…
Eyes the color of the sea. Sea-Green. A messy patch of black hair on his it's -a boy- head. Eyes clearly blind. Smile direct towards her- it shall only be meant for her.
Stone Is Cold.
She cradles the boy as the slithered out, her victims soundless. Who knows, one of them might be the mother. Taping his nose, the baby clutched her fingers. Clasping on to them as he gurgled happily. She takes him with her.
It Does Not Laugh Or Smile.
The child, now seven, giggles for her. Percy is a blind child, her child. Clearly a demigod, those eyes like the seaside (yet covered in fog). That hair as dark as nightfall, yet mess like the tides. She may hate (hate? I can hate now?) the father, but she will always cherish the child. As it turns out his mother died at birth, and he was destined to be the villages labor slave.
It Does Not Touch Or Sing.
Percy enjoys music, almost as much as learning fighting styles with a sword. He is able to sense with the water in the air. He uses his hands to touch the exterior of objects. One time declaring to love the feeling of smooth rock. He kept a collection of river stones.
It Does Not Love.
16 years old, he's already grown up. Going on a quest to save the world, his mother (me) protected by him. When he did a quest for Apollo, after helping the immortal find his disappeared sister, he was awarded a wish. Instead of eyesight, he wishes for my curse to break. Because of his love for his mother.
For The First Time, I Realized… My Heart Is Not Stone.
A regular woman now, I am undoubtedly accepted back into society. After all, I'm the monster who raises one of the purest heroes. Funny how people say he fights for justice. It's funny because don't they also say Justice is blind. Like my son.
Yes, Stone Is Beautiful…
Heart of conscience, I think back to my victims, this endless cycle of bitterness being dispersed from one person to the next. I'm lucky I was rescued. I see him beam more with the blond one. Her mother I curse. But I also despise his father. Just because I loathe Percy's father, doesn't mean I hate him. No. I should not hate the girl because I resent her mother. Stone is many things, but not alive. Stone may be powerful….
But So Are The Living.
A.N- hey! This is a really short abstract story. But it was inspired by the YouTube video "Heart in the Stone-Medusa and the blind baby". So feel free to check it out. I'm working on my next story, which I promise will be a couple chapters long. But it's a Star Wars story. It's time for some obi-wan angst. Anyway, tell me how you feel about this.
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Cooljoanna18 out
Stone Is Beautiful.
It Does Not Weep Or Wail…
It Does Not Betray Or Lie.
It Does Not Grow Up To Suffer.
Death…Is Kinder Than Life.
So Warm…
Stone Is Cold.
It Does Not Laugh Or Smile.
It Does Not Touch Or Sing.
It Does Not Love.
For The First Time, I Realized… My Heart Is Not Stone.
Yes, Stone Is Beautiful…
But So Are The Living.
