Another fave. I hope you like it.
Rachel Elizabeth Dare was -is- diagnosed mad.
No, she was not angry or whiny all the time. She was considered... luny.
The first time she saw a monster up close was when she was six years old. Mr. Dare was talking to another business associate, and little Rachel crept from her bed to get a glass of milk.
She almost dropped the glass and looked at her father's associate.
In Rachel's eyes, the stranger was.. well, strange. His hair looked stringy and greasy, and the 'man's' clothes seemed to shift from a nice business suite to ancient Greek clothing smudged with grease and coal.
The man pushed his stringy hair away and blinked his one giant eye. When he was talking to her father, he gripped the armrests so hard that there were dents, and bared his yellowish teeth in hunger.
This man was not a man to Rachel. He was a monster.
Rachel set her glass on the counter, ran to her father, and jumped on Mr. Dare, as if to protect him. Six year old Rachel then shouted: "Daddy, that man has one big eye. His hands are all dirty and his teeth are tainted red. Daddy, he looks like a monster!"
The Cyclops looked surprised and blinked his little girl ruined his plan to have her father for breakfast.
Meanwhile, her father was scolding her. "Now Rachel, that was very rude and wild. It was only a figment of your imagination, and you, a fine young girl, should not be thinking these things. Martha!"
The maid sped up to them in a matter of seconds.
"Tuck Rachel back in bed. Rachel, when I'm done, we will have a little talk about your manners."
"But Daddy-"
Her father gave her a firm look, and she hid behind the housewife's leg. "Yes, Daddy."
Soon after that, she started opening up to arts.
Mr. Dare was called to the principle's office when she was in third grade.
"Mr. Dare, your daughter has been caught drawing pictures and not paying attention in class for the sixth time this week."
Even now, a certain red-haired girl wasn't paying attention and was drawing on her paper in her lap.
Her father grabbed the picture.
"Daddy!"
He set the sketches on the principle's desk. Both men stared at the sketches in awe.
"Rachel, honey, did you draw any other ones?"
She reluctantly pulled out her folder and handed him five papers.
Each paper had a different... style to it. Mr. Dare even had to remind himself that these were sketches. Very detailed, high school leveled sketches, but still sketches.
"See," Rachel pointed to picture, "That man is fighting the Hydra. Then over here," she pointed to a sketch of a huntress, "That's Ar-Arte-" she struggled to get the word out and then her eyes suddenly lit up in victory, "Diana! The next one is Mr. Percy holding the snake lady's head, and that one-"
"Mr. Dare!" The principle exclaimed. "Do you watch any of this... violence?"
The said man shook his head and turned to his daughter. "Rachel... we need to throw these things away."
The 9 year old's eyes widened. "Why Daddy?"
"This is violence. You are to grow up to be a fine young woman, Rachel, and these are so... gory." He held the papers over the garbage. "Now no more of this nonsense. Maybe you can draw your mother a rose instead..."
"NO!" Rachel screamed suddenly, "No Daddy! Please!" She grabbed the papers unexpectedly and shoved them in her folders.
"Why not? It is for your one good. Your mother will be displeased-"
"My mother? MY MOTHER? When do you care about me? I'm just your-" Rachel sniffled. "I'm just your doll."
Cue an accurate imitation of Niagara Falls.
Both men looked stunned at her behavior.
"Mr. Dare... I think your daughter needs counseling. I've never seen..."
Mr. Dare sighed and picked his weeping daughter up. "Will do Mr. Townswell. I think we should go."
He picked up her bag and headed towards the door.
"Wait, Mr Dare!" The business man turned. "I must say, your daughter has talent. Maybe as therapy lessons, you should let her paint."
"Thank you for the idea sir. Good day."
"Good day to you too. And good luck."
Both men nodded, and Mr. Dare separated ways.
Years after the incident, Rachel finds herself at the academy doorstep.
'Great,' she thought. 'I'd rather spend a year in the underworld. Without my paints.'
"You have your medications dear?" Mrs. Dare asked her daughter nervously.
Rachel rolled her eyes. "Yes Mom. No need to worry about anything."
Her mother smiled. "Well, okay then... I have an appointment to get to." She kissed Rachel's cheeks. "Well, we will see you on Christmas break."
Soon, the car was gone.
Rachel turned to face Clarion Ladies Accademy.
She survived the Second Titan War less then a month ago, she could survive this.
. . .
Rachel fell on her bed, tired after packing.
"Hey," her new roommate, Carly, said, "can I ask you a question?"
Rachel fished her medicine out of the cabinet. "Shoot."
"Why do you have meds?"
"My parents think I'm crazed.
An odd look.
"Don't worry. It's nothing."
A week later...
Rachel slid into the back seat and waited for the bell to ring.
Whispers filled the room.
"Hey, do you like my nails?"
"Did you hear the news?"
"Oh yeah!"
"What news?"
The whole classroom was now silent.
"The new girl -what's her name, Rosie?- well, parent's think she's mad."
Gasps. "Really?" and one, "Mad, like angry?"
"No, you idiot. Crazed. Insane."
"Well I can see that," A random Barbie-doll spoke up. "Look at her hair. I mean, is she like us, or a witch?"
The room erupted into giggles.
Everyone seemed to forget that Rachel was there
The oracle skipped the next class, and cried in her pillow.
Rachel Elisabeth Dare, a voice hissed in a corner of her mind. Join me.
Never.
My army can be your haven. I hold thousands of children like you in my arms. No, not half-bloods, but mortals. Very talented mortals. They will except you. This is where you belong.
Tempting offer, isn't it Rach?
Rachel is not overdosing. Apollo helps her stay healthy, and she takes the meds so her parents are not suspicious and so she can please them.
This is probably going to be the longest out of all of them. Close to 1000 words. I'm happy, and you're lucky to have a long chappie. (: See ya.
Next chapter's title- Pride's Bolt