Sorry that this chapter is kind of short. It'll start to pick up the next chapter, I promise. Warning: I got a little teary-eyed while writing this chapter. Sure it went away while trying to proofread, but still, beware!

Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson. Rick Riordan does.


Chapter Four

(Percy's POV)

Today started out normal enough. I woke up at 6 a.m. in hopes that my step-father is still fast asleep, completely hung-over from his little poker party with his "friends" last night. Gods, it was horrible, but then again, since I practically have to live with that literally 24/7, you could just say that my whole life is terrible. Last night, ESPN was blaring, and cigar smoke practically filled up the room so much, that I was surprised that the alarm didn't sound. Alcohol bottles were strewn upon the floor, ugly cheering arose from a lucky creature who gained some money, only to lose it again within 20 minutes of the game, and a continuous stream of profanities so bad, that I half-expected someone to get soap and wash their mouths out with it. I blame them, and my oh-so lovely classmates (note the sarcasm), that I am like this now. Sometimes, I wonder if I could've done something else to change how my life will turn out. Though, I always seriously doubt it. The Fates are probably up there, somewhere, right now, laughing at the horrible misfortune that they have given me. I know I probably sound like a spoiled brat, and that I should be grateful for the "privileges" that I have, compared to, say a poor child in Africa, but our lives aren't that different from each other. At least it's not like I'm someone who just desperately needs attention, and that they'd go so far as to seek pity from others, even though their lives are already lavish as it is. At school, I'd always hear the "popular cliques" complaining about how their parents don't have any time for them, and that they'd only spend, at best, an hour with them, but that should be enough, in my opinion. It's not like they spend much time with each other, anyways. At least they actually have parents that try their best to make time, and at least their family actually loves and cares about them. They should be able to realize the gifts that the Fates have given them, and to better appreciate them.

Although, what's worse is when I hear students complaining about how their parents don't understand them, or let them have their own way. Okay, sure you want a later bed time, sure you want to go to that party on Friday, but your parents always decline. Do you ever stop getting wrapped up in your own thoughts and feelings, that you stop and think about what your parents are going through? Maybe they don't want you to go to that party because they don't think you're responsible enough, or maybe you have other priorities to do, such as going out to dinner with your relatives. But maybe, just maybe, they don't want you to go because they're scared of losing you. They're scared of watching you grow up, because to them, you'll always be their little baby. Sure, it's hard to imagine how something so small, so insignificant, such as a bed time or party, can make, on a much larger topic, but it's the small things that count, right? Sure you might want a later bed time because you want to stay up chatting with your friends, or going on social media, but to them? They'll always think of you as their little child, who'd go to sleep at 8 o'clock, with you already ready in your little jammies, waiting patiently, for your mom or dad to come by, read you a bed time story, tuck you in, give you a tiny kiss on the forehead, and turn on your night-light. Sure you want to go to that party because your friends or your crush is going, but they don't want you to go, because they're scared. You're in high school, and there are enough cliché, high school movies out there that clearly justifies what might happen in parties. They don't want you to go because they're scared of losing their baby. Your parents still want to think of you as their little child, no matter how old you are, because the worst part of being a parent, besides seeing your own child die, is to watch them grow up. No matter how old they are, you still want to grasp on to those old vague memories of when you were the most important person in their life. Back when they'd happily run down the stairs, sit on your lap, and then they'd show you that they lost a tooth. They'll grin, a toothy, cheeky grin, and tell you that the Tooth Fairy will come tonight and leave them some money. You'll agree with them, obviously, trying to capture the moments when they still thought that those myths still existed, not knowing that it was truly you who put that money there. You still try to hold on to those moments when they cared about the little things in life, back when they weren't so wrapped up in school, status, and relationships. Although, try as you might, you always have to let go, and that's probably one of the hardest things about being a parent. One day, in just a blink of the eye, you'll see your little baby getting married, off to start their own lives, without you. Then the reality of it all will come crashing down on you. You'll be hit with the realization that they don't need you anymore. All those days when they depended on you for everything is all gone. It's their life now, they need to live it. They can't have you always by their side, making every decision for them, no matter how much you want to. You need to learn how to let go, and let them make their own mistakes, so that they could learn from it. Even though you would much rather take the weight of the world off their shoulders and hold it yourself, you can't do that. You have to let them take their own burden, without you, no matter how much pain it causes the both of you.

So when I walk into school, Monday morning, head down low, trying to act invisible, with these thoughts on my mind, hearing the students surrounding me saying words like "party," "parents," and "don't understand," I'd silently shake my head at their thick skulls. Can they not see that their parents only want the best for them? Their parents just want you to understand the pain that they are going through. You get stressed out with your school work, they get stressed out trying to support the family. You want the latest technology, and then you plead, beg and make promises to your parents that we all know that you are not going to keep, in order to get it. They'd shake their heads at you, but eventually cave in, because they want you to be happy. You take advantage of them, and never realize it, until they're gone, and once they're gone, they're never coming back. Isn't there a saying that says how you never realize how important something is until it's gone? Well, you can take this quote and apply it to various situations. Whether it be family, romance, or whatever, you never realize how much impact something or someone has on your life until they leave. I experienced this situation first-hand, various times. It's because of this that I try learning from my mistakes. If I ever had a chance to just thank everyone who left, I would, in a heartbeat. But, that never happened and it never will. All that I could hope for is that I'll say these words to the air, and hope that the wind will carry the message across to them. Although, it's not like they would hear it anyways, or even care. They left me, but I'm not sure if it's my fault or not. Did I do something wrong? I probably did. Everything I touch slowly dies. My family, friends, most of them left me, whether it be of their own will, or not. After all, a family's love is mandatory, friendship is temporary, and in the end, all you have is yourself, because, you can never actually rid yourself of your own body, now can you? You're stuck with yourself, forever, whether you like it or not.


I hope you liked it.