Back in cabin eleven, I made my way to the bunk I shared with my half-sister Ange. At this time of day, most campers were busy with outdoor activities, and the cabin was mostly empty. I sat down on the bottom bunk despite the fact that it was Ange's. My fingers found the seal of the package. I hesitated a second too long. I didn't want what was inside. But I needed it.
Inside was an orange tinted prescription bottle that rattled with the sound of pills. I cringed just looking at it. The label read some long medical name for the drug, many numbers, and my name: Quinn Sollax. I popped the lid off and dug out a single pill. I placed it on my tongue and gulped, then I closed the bottle again and tossed it up on my bed above.
I got up to throw away the now empty package. I threw it in the trash with more force than need be. I kept walking, out the cabin door, down the porch steps, kept walking because I couldn't think of any reason to stop.
I finally came to a rest at the edge of the shore, because I couldn't just walking into the ocean. Poseidon was not my father and he would not protect me.
I sat myself right out of the tide's reach, hugging my legs to my chest. I watched as the water rushed toward me, only to recede back before it got too close.
That's what it felt like when I tried to sleep. Tiredness would overcome me, descending upon me so quickly I had no time to even blink. But just as it was about to throw me to the darkness, to let my restless mind stop its endless thoughts, it would pull back. Sleep hardly ever came close enough willingly. I had to take pills, I had to be poisoned with drugs before sleep would ever come near enough to effect me.
Slowly, because it takes a little while for the drugs to reach my brain, I fell asleep on the warm sand.
I dreamed. I hated dreaming. My inner eye would be force to witness bloodbaths and death and things worse death. There wasn't a day that went by that didn't make me wonder if I maybe was a child of Hades. The amount of time I spent thinking of death, whether awake or sleeping, was alarming. But I wasn't undetermined. Hermes had claimed me as his own, and I looked just like all the other residents in cabin eleven, so it was hard to argue.
I didn't feel any connection to Hermes though. My soul didn't resonate with anything related to the messenger God. I was just some awkward, overlooked Demigod who devoted too much of her life to pondering death and was forced to deal with things worse than mere dyslexia. But it was okay. It was always okay. It couldn't be anything but that, since I couldn't feel anything else.
When I woke up, it was not of my own will, but someone else's. His green eyes glowed like a cat's in the quickly fading sunlight. I sat up with a start, pushing myself back in the damp sand.
Percy Jackson grinned slightly. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."
I could feel where water had soaked through my clothes, and my mouth tasted of salt.
I initially panicked, realizing I could have drown. Stupid thought, falling asleep on the shore. Stupid stupid stupid. I pulled my legs to my body and rocked backward. I'm sure I looked mad, my eyes impossibly wide and my insane protective hugging, and gods only knew what my hair looked like.
My imagination ran wild. My still body, possibly a corpse already, being pushed out to sea, fish and sea creatures swimming in and out of the pores of my dead body, an eel making a home in my now empty skull. I pictured myself on the sand, half covered by water, water rushing in my mouth, flooding my lungs and killing me.
I coughed and I swear the water that gushed forth was tinted red with blood.
I stumbled to my feet, wary of the water washing up against my legs.
"Hey, are you okay?" Percy asked. He looked concerned.
I stared, because that's what I do when people ask me things like that. How was your day? How are you doing? Are you okay?
I honestly don't know.
"You're Quinn, right?," Percy tried again.
I just nodded. I gulped. "Sorry for the inconvenience."
He grinned. "You're right, I should have just left you to your swimming."
I snorted, which surprised myself. It was a strange snort followed by a startled jump. I tried a smile and said in a small voice, "thanks."
"I wouldn't really recommend sleeping within the tide's reach. Unless you're me, of course" Another grin.
"Of course," I smiled, though it probably looked more like a grimace, "my mistake."
I turned to go, and I knew Percy Jackson was standing there watching me. A second later he had run up beside me.
"You didn't say whether you were okay or not."
Was I okay? Physically? Mentally? Were my lungs still breathing, my heart still pounding, my legs still walking along this path to who-knows-where? Is my mind still a churning mass of thoughts and memories that don't keep me up at night and was I okay?
Yes. No. "I'm fine."
Percy ran a hand through his hair so that it stuck straight up. "You don't sound very sure of yourself."
"I'm fine," I said in an almost dangerous tone.
"Alright, if you say so,"
I whirled around. "I do say so!"
Percy put his hands up defensively. "Alright, you don't have to get mad."
"I…" I walked ahead, muttering, "I'm sorry."
