Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson and the Olympians

A/N: Swearing and child abuse, so you've been warned.

Chapter 1

Even at 14 years old, Percy Jackson still flinched as his stepdad, Gabe Ugliano or Smelly Gabe hit him with his belt. At the age of 12 he had witnessed his mother dying and the memory still haunted him like a ghost.

"Stupid boy," Gabe jeered hitting him once more.

Percy flinched again but didn't scream, he wouldn't want to satisfy Smelly Gabe after all.

"Had to wear shorts did you?" Gabe hissed angrily. "Had to let the other kids see your scars?"

SNAP! The belt had once again made contact with Percy's bare skin. Blood was trickling down his leg rapidly. He whimpered but remained silent.

"Being silent Jackson? Or being a wimp like your mother had been?" Gabe hissed.

Percy had been fine at first, or at least as fine as being abused you could be for a child. But the second he heard his mother's name being insulted something inside him snapped.

"Don't insult her," he warned his voice dangerously calm.

"Or what? Is Pewcy afwaid?" Gabe said mockingly, and then his voice turned back to anger. "You can't do shit."

That was it. Percy stood up shakily and aimed a punch at Gabe's face. He staggered back and roared angrily.

"Yes I can," Percy whispered and ran for the door.

His hands had barely brushed against the doorknob when he felt himself being thrown across the floor. He'd been caught.

"Insolent fool!" Gabe roared.

Percy didn't do anything but he didn't really have a choice. He was bleeding heavily and couldn't move at the moment. He flinched in pain when a belt made contact with his arms. Right now, both his arms would be scarred for life, and his legs? They would fail him the moment he would try to stand up. Thunder rumbled outside and he remembered the day that his mother had died.

There was a thunderstorm brewing all day the day she died. But the 12 year old Percy didn't care since he had his mother safely with him. Or so he thought. The day started out with lightning flashing through his window. He wasn't scared; he was 12 years old, not 6. His mother made him blue pancakes and he drizzled the entire batch with syrup. Smelly Gabe was glaring at him like a hawk ready to pounce. Once when he was 8 he asked his mother if he was a cannibal.

"Of course not sweetie." Sally had laughed. "Why? Is he scaring you?"

Percy nodded and he heard arguing that night. He ignored the glaring of his stepdad now since it still kind of creeped him out. Finally he snapped.

"Don't you have somewhere else to be?" He asked coldly.

"Watch your tone boy." Gabe replied but smirked as if he knew something he didn't.

Of course being Percy, he couldn't figure out the smirking until much later. He didn't figure it out till that night...

He was with his mother when they were arguing. Apparently his stepdad had gone extreme this time and decided that they were better off without Percy and nearly sold him. The guy had even come to their house but Sally came just in time.

"What's going on?" Sally asked, looking at the guy at the door.

"We're getting rid off your son Sally. This guy's gonna buy him." Gabe said, bored.

"WHAT?" Sally screeched.

She was going to rant but Gabe had stopped her.

"Sir," he said to the man at the door. "Forget about that selling shit, go."

The man grumbled but left. When he was out of earshot, or out of the apartment he began raising his voice to Sally.

"Right Sally. Did you have to cause a scene? That was embarrassing." Gabe hissed.

"It was your fault!" Sally rebelled.

"What?"

So far Sally had never really defied his orders.

"I said it was your fault!" Sally said again.

Gabe sighed, well if that's was she thinks... He thought. He wobbled over to Sally and held onto her in a choke hold. Percy looked at Gabe in fear but he didn't even notice him. He did it lightly at first but when Percy made a small noise with his throat he growled and did it more fiercely.

There was nothing Percy could do as he slowly watched his mother die. He was 12 years old! He practically screamed at himself in his mind. You're supposed to do something! But he didn't as his stepdad finally released his grip on her. Her last words were the ones that broke his heart: "Don't hurt him..."

After all those years, those words still broke him on the inside. Don't hurt him...' Tears brimmed up to his eyelids but he didn't let them fall. Parts of him blamed himself for his mother's death. If he hadn't made that noise... CRACK! SNAP! The belt hit repeatedly on his skin in a pattern. He'd gotten used to the scars of course but still.

"You little piece of crap." Gabe sneered down on him.

The abuse eventually stopped when he took too many swigs of beer and plopped down on the couch, snoring. NOW! Percy's mind screamed at him mentally. He had the perfect chance to escape but where could he go? He had a few friends from school but he still didn't know where they lived. Or maybe he could just be a homeless person on the street. Any life was better than this.

But all that thinking stopped when he attempted to move. He lifted his arms first but they wouldn't move. They were too scarred to move, and his legs were too weak or tired. No... Not now, COME ON! Percy thought. When he finally gotten the courage, his body had failed him. Oh well... He would get more chances at escaping later...

Or maybe not, Percy thought as he was still too paralyzed to move. He tried again and eventually found some movement in his hands. The two hands moved slowly, turning around in a rotating motion, and then feeling returned to his arms. He sighed in relief and waited for feeling to return to his legs. But it was not till much later when it did. He cautiously stood up but grabbed the dirty counter for support. Shaking on his legs he looked again at the door leading out of the apartment.

Hope filled his eyes but disappeared as his stepdad stirred in his sleep.

"I'll find you wherever you are punk. Don't even think about escaping." He mumbled.

Obeying his orders for no reason he went to his 'room.' It was more like a trash can for Gabe but at least he had shelter. As Gabe once said: "Be 'grateful' punk." He scoffed at those words repeating in his mind and fell down on his mattress, sleeping.

A/N: Should I continue? Also for my other story Don't Mess with the Cabins should be posted soon. Really sorry for the long wait.