Little Bird.
Chapter 1
[Arva]
I curled up in my sleeping bag and hunkered down for the night. The ally was cold and wet but it was the best I could do at the moment. I sneezed and cuddled down more into the worn-out fabric of my make-shift bed. Despite the high walls the wind still cut through me like a knife. I sneezed again and moved my blond hair out of my face.
Today is the anniversary of the day my mom died. She was hit by a drunk driver and died instantly. I remember it; it's always going to be etched into my brain. At night, sometimes it replays over and over. And times when I think I can forget, it turns out I can't. It's like the scene tattooed on my eyelids.
Before she died she was beautiful. Her hair was black and her skin tanned, with striking green eyes. My mom died when I was 7, only 2 years after we moved here from Greece. She named me Arva –which means Eagle in Greek- because she and I were poor and she wanted to me to have opportunities in life, so that I could 'spread my wings and fly'.
When we moved here, I was diagnosed with Schizophrenia, dyslexia and ADHA. I think it broke her heart; that I was like this, that I saw things, can't read well or pay attention but if it did then I never saw. She and I made due with what we had, and she always said 'that it's not our problems that define us; it's what we do despite them.'She worked hard for us. She worked in the day and took lessons at night to improve her English; she loved the class and picked up on English quickly because of her job back in Greece. I went with her everywhere she went, including to her lessons where I learned English as well. When she wasn't working or learning she told me stories about Greek myths, they where my favourite story other then the ones about my dad. She told me about how they met.
My mom was a tour guide for a temple to Apollo, and he came there as a tourist and he spoke little to no Greek, but despite that they fell in love. My dad was in the military and he left to go back to America before she found out that she was pregnant. I think that's one of the reasons she moved us here, like she was hoping that she'd somehow find him.
Apparently I looked like him, "You, my little Pouli are a spitting image of him," she used to say every time I brought him up. That is what my dad used to call her, Pouli, meaning bird in Greek, -other reason she named me Arva- so she called me 'little bird'. I inherited her nickname, but that was it. I had blond hair, blue eyes and lightly tanned skin, like my dad.
When she died, I was put in an Orphanage and let's just say I wasn't really 'all for it'. I hated it actually; when ever a person came to look at kids I was a menace and they usually left before anything else went wrong. After 5 years of living in an Orphanage I was fed up with it all. I didn't want –and wasn't going to- get adopted, and every foster home I had ever been in sent me back in about a week. People we pick me for foster homes because I was special needs. I think it had something to do with feeling good about themselves because they where 'giving me a loving home'. So I did the only thing that seemed rational; I ran away. I was only 12 at the time and was –and still am- overly stubborn, so I refused to go back to that horrid place. I'm 16 now and am still as stubborn as ever.
I'm one of the luckier kids out here on the street. I have not yet had to resort to prostituting. I'm an okay pickpocket, but I have been caught a few times; although not as much as the boys who are reckless and some of them B and A when they're high or drunk. Like Kit or Wes two of the boys I hang around. Wes is in Juvie for getting caught in possession of drugs; he was high at the time. I feel so bad that we moved out here so I could have a better chance at life and I end up as a street kid. I'm so sorry Mitera.
I shifted and rubbed away the tears from my eyes, then turned over in my sleeping bag to get more comfortable and was face to face with the ugliest and biggest dog I've ever seen. I scrambled back and I hit the wall behind me. My heart stopped and I was breathing deeply enough to knock me out. It growled.
The dog moved forward and breathed on me. I wanted to puke. Judging from the size of this dog I'm going to make the assumption this is one of those things that would get me sent to a shrink in about a second if I told anyone. I reached for my bag and snatched it up, as the dog's jaws snapped where my hand had been a moment ago. I froze out of fear, I couldn't move. The thing just kept looking at me with its blood shot eyes and kept breathing on my with its fowl breath, it stank of rotten meat.
My hand shook as I fumbled with a large sharp piece of pavement that had cracked. I finally managed to get a good grip on it, and I swung at the dog's eyes. I knew I hit something when I heard a howl of anger and pain. I looked up and saw that I had hit its left eye. The monster growled at me and moved forward despite the blood dripping from its face. I scrambled back on my butt, and finally I was at the end of the ally, with a cold brick wall blocking my path to safety. I swung again but missed.
I tried to run around in a desperate attempt at freedom. But it lunged and I screamed as it bit down on my arm; its teeth tearing into my skin. My vision went white with pain, and I moved my arm up to my chest painfully. I tried to move it, but it seemed as if the dog had snapped the bone as well.
It growled and lunged again, I moved as fast as I could, the dog's teeth catching on my pant leg. I started to run, my vision blocked with blinding pain. I could hear the dog loping along behind me. I ran onto the street. I heard the screeching of tires on the wet pavement and I whipped around to see the headlights of a truck.
Flash Back.
Mother and I where walking across the street towards the corner store to get bread and milk. On the way was a candy shop, that I loved because of the bright colours, smells and friendly smiles from the counter lady who always slipped a free candy to me.
"Mitera, can I go and get a candy?" I tugged on my mom's coat.
"Sure, my little Pouli" she handed me a dollar bill and I raced across the street to the candy shop. I turned to ask if she wanted a candy and I saw a car barrelling down the street. I yelled for her but it was too late, the car was going to fast. She was hit and sent back on to the road. The drunken man in the car swerved and hit a lamp post.
"Mitera! MAMMA!" I screamed and people came out into the streets. I ran to her and fell to the ground next to her limp body.
"Mitera, I need you. Don't go away. Mitera I need you. Please you can't go now," I cried to her, stroking her face; trying to get her to wake up. "SOMEONE HELP ME!" I screamed to one of the people on the sidewalk.
End Flashback.
The car hit me and I went flying backwards and hit the ground with bone shattering force. I heard dog panting, car door's slamming, shouting, and a pain filled howl. I tried to move but I cried out when I tried.
"Oh my gods, I hit a person!" someone called out in a panicked voice.
"Percy, calm down! Grover, go and see if she's okay. Seaweed brain, come with me and kill the stupid thing," said a dominant female voice. It seemed like the two other's listened to her because a heard a scuffling of feet and a boy with a baseball cap on, crouched down next to me.
"Hey, I'm Grover," he said in a hushed voice, like he was trying not to startle me. "I'm going to have to check you over; is that okay?" I nod briefly but stopped because the pain is too great. Grover tilted my head up and looked in to my eyes; my body screamed in protest. He moved to the arm but I whimpered and drew it closer to my body. "You're going to have to let me see your arm, if you want it fixed," I lowered my arm, and a fierce blinding pain flashed through it.
"Ow," I whispered.
"I'm sorry," he whispered back. Then a black haired, green eyed boy knelt down.
"I'm so, so, so, so, so, so, so, sorry. I wasn't watching the road, and you just came up so fast. I'm so sorry, that I hit you. Are you okay? " he looked at me. He spoke so fast and I couldn't process what he said. My head pounded and my back screamed in pain along with my leg arm and hand, telling me that they where broken.
The black haired boy took off his coat and laid it over my shivering form. I shut my eyes tightly; trying to shut out the pain. I felt Grover stand up and walk to the others. I could hear their conversation faintly, although it meant nothing to me.
"I think we should get her back to camp," said Grover.
"Are you sure that she's a Demi-God?" asked the other boy.
"I have no clue, but she was being chased by a Hell Hound, so we can only assume. If she's not then we get an Apollo Camper to come out and heal her, then we wipe her memory," replied Grover.
"Oi! Annabeth, we need help getting her into the truck," called the boy to the girl.
"Okay, I'm just cleaning up," she jogged over and they came over to me. I opened my eyes and looked into the face of a gray eyed, blond hair girl.
"We've got to pick you up now," said the girl.
"On 3; 1… 2… 3" they heaved me up. Pain jolted through my body like lightning. I cried out and they all apologised profusely. The black hair boy carried me and the girl held my hand as I cried in pain. They lay me in the back of the truck and the boy got into the truck behind me and placed my head on his lap.
The girl hopped into the front seat and turned on the car. She gunned it and we speed down the street.
Grover turned around in his seat, "Percy, she might have a concussion, so keep her talking and don't let her fall asleep," Percy nodded.
"I'm Percy, and that's Annabeth, you've already met Grover," said Percy, I made a noise that seemed to satisfy Percy. "Do you have a name?" he asked.
I opened and closed my mouth a few times; trying to find my voice, but eventually I was able to push out, "Arva."
"That's a pretty name. It means Eagle in Greek, right?" he asked.
"Yeah, my- mom- greek," I answered in broken off words, but hey seemed content with the fact that I was at least making noise.
"Where does your mom live?" asked Grover.
"Dead," my head pounded harder as tears threatened to fall.
"I'm sorry."
"S'okay," I felt myself drifting but Percy broke the spell.
"How old are you?"
"16," I grunted. My arm, my leg and my back throbbed in tune with my pounding headache. I was in so much pain that I was surprised I hadn't passed out yet.
"Where do you live?"
"Streets," I looked up to see Percy's face swimming above me, I wanted to puke.
"Oh. Um… she bleeding a lot back here," he said worriedly. I looked down at my arm and my stomach turned. It was ripped open and I could see small pieces of bone. It was bleeding a lot.
"Keep, her talking guy," said Grover. "And Percy, tear a piece of fabric and hold it to her arm," he nodded and held his jacket to my arm.
"What's your favourite colour?" asked Annabeth, not taking her eyes off the road.
"Yello-" the rest of the word caught in my throat, the truck spun more. I ached everywhere.
"What- was- thing?" I asked.
"Umm, it depends, what did you see?" asked Percy; biting his bottom lip.
"Giant- ugly- monster," he visible relaxed and exchanged a look with Grover.
"It was a Hell Hound, like for Greek mythology," he replied, and I would have laughed if I possessed the energy.
"You- Crazy."
"Yeah, I guess this is not the best time to explain everything, so let's go back to the normal questions, like… favourite animal?"
"Like- crow and dolphin," I saw Annabeth lean over and whisper something that sounded like 'Apollo's sacred animals.'
"That's interesting," said Grover.
"Can you sing?" asked Annabeth.
"I- guess," I almost shrugged but stopped myself when white pain blinded me.
"Then hum a song, it'll keep you awake," I started to hum a lullaby that mom sung to me. As I hummed I went through the lyrics in my mind.
The child wants to dance;
There are no fiddles here,
And whoever goes to bring them
Shall have a thaler in his hand.
I went over and over. I could almost hear mom singing to me in Greek.
το παιδί θέλει χορό
τα βιολιά δεν είν ' εδώ
κι όποιος πάει να τα φέρει
πέντε τάλιρα στο χέρι
κι άλλα τόσα στο μαντήλι
In her crackly terrible voice. She use to say that it was not her that I inherited my voice from and that dad could stop anyone in their tracks with just one note.
"We're here, Grover you run ahead and get Chiron," ordered Annabeth. Grover jumped up and run down a hill, past a pine tree.
By the time Annabeth turned off the car, I was in so much pain, I could hardly move. Every bump was excruciating.
"Are you ready to get up?" asked Percy. I grunted noncommittally. "I'll get her Annabeth, she's not really heavy at all." He lifted me up in his arms bridle style and stepped lightly down. They walked with me down the hill and met up with Grover and a man that was taller then normal. I focused my eyes on him and almost yelled out in shock. This man was half horse.
"What happened?" he asked sternly.
"She was running away from a Hell Hound and I kinda hit her with my car," mumbled Percy.
"You hit her with a car?" he sounded pissed. "I'll talk to your mother and father about taking your car away later but right now we have to get her to the Big House. Grover, could you fetch Will from Cabin 7, you might have to wake him up, seeing as it's 2 in the morning," he started off and Percy and Annabeth followed, all the way pointing out things to me, so that I stayed awake.
We reached a large Red building and we went inside. Percy placed me on a bed and the horse guy knelt down to my level and checked me over. I cried out a few times but mostly stayed still.
"Tell me child, what is your name?" he asked calmly.
"Avra," I whispered hoarsely.
"How old are you Avra?"
"16,"
"Good, good and what is your mother's name?"
I didn't fell like correcting him so I just said, "Phoena Buros,"
"I see and is your mother died?" he asked.
"Yes," I barley whispered.
Just then a boy –who looked like me but sleeper- entered. "You wanted to see me?" he asked and yawned.
"Yes Will, I believe this girl is your sister. I'm going to need you to help me dress her wounds," the boy nodded, "and Percy, come and hold her hand. Avra, I'm going to have to lift you," I grunted and he nodded. Percy knelt next to me and I grabbed his hand in a death grip.
"1… 2… 3" they lifted and I screamed. Tears poured down my face, as they moved me. I was placed on to a higher up table. The boy took a knife and began cutting away my pant legs and my sleeves. The horse-man brought out a box with medic supplies in it.
It took them an hour to fix me up and after that my arm was bandaged, along with my head, left hand and right leg.
"Okay Avra, you can sleep now," said the boy, and he brushed the hair from my face as I drifted into a dreamless sleep.