Hello! Okay, before I apologize for THREE MONTHS of not updating, just something.
ChaoticMathFreak has just uploaded chapter 2 of his story: Reading ChocolateIsMyDoom's One Sided and Her Tragedies. I hope you will stop to take a look, because I felt completely honored to have this written, especially since I'm such a crappy author, for leaving you like this. Anyways, int he next few days I'll catch up with Her Tragedies and I hope, someday, I'll finish the Hestia Chapter.
And this is the weirdest thing I have written in my whole life:
You should have known Percy Jackson would just bring you trouble.
Really, what had he ever brought you before?
You sigh and purse your lips as he stares into your eyes. You know what he's seeing. Honey-colored eyes, beautiful and large. You know he sees a straight, thin nose; a mouth with dark red lips, and fair skin without a flaw. Know he sees lush, dark hair. You know he sees it, and you smile hesitantly, wavering.
He smiles back, his mouth slowly opening, and you think is like the key to your heart has been thrown away and finally, finally, someone has grabbed it and opened the chest, slowly making you anxious to get out and fly away.
"So you're an Aphrodite kid?" he asks, grinning, "And you're the one that can help me?"
You lean back against your chair, appearing disinterested and not at all bothered by the fact that he's looking way too closely at you, as if he's dissecting you like a dead body, searching for the pieces that hold you together.
"Yes," you reply with a huff, "Do you doubt it at all?"
He laughs, a beautiful, carefree, distant sound that pulls your soul out of hell.
"Heck, no,"
…
Nobody notices. Nobody at all, and you're secretly glad that Hades hasn't turned you in. After all, it would be a bit embarrassing for him to suddenly show up to announce he's made a mistake.
"You really shouldn't call her 'Owl Head'," You advise, scolding him and gently giving him a smile that melts, "I mean, 'Wise Girl' is nice and all that, but you can't call your love interest 'Owl Head,"
He blushes cutely, and you raise your eyebrows, "Yeah, got that,"
You bristle, "Are you doubting me again, Perseus?"
"Not at all," he grins.
You don't know why he doesn't notice you've got no other friends, or that his friends just don't notice you at all. You're careful never to let him meet with a friend directly after or before he's meeting you. Your moves are calculated and accurate, like a spider's moving their web magically.
"Then don't call her that," you advise, and sit slowly on the bench. You're trying not to put much of your weight on it, to be sure you won't give away your secret pretending to be normal. Percy bites his lip, "Are you sure that she will notice me?" you smile, and you make an effort to not punch him playfully on the shoulder. You can't touch him, you chorus to yourself mentally.
"Of course, I'm sure, dummy," you reassure him, then stand up and stretch like a cat. He's staring at you with affection as you close your eyes and tilt your head to feel the sky on top of yourself.
You can almost forget you don't belong with him.
…
Your first fight isn't unexpected, it isn't something you'd known would happen, but that doesn't change the way your cheeks are red and your shouting is high and hysterical.
You're standing on top of the grass. The wet, green, soft, beautiful, new, fresh, alive grass that you wish you could always hold forever, in the middle of the forest, and he's sitting down when he comments he might just tell Rachel that they're just friends.
"You can't just do that!" you scream, "You can't just do that to Rachel!"
"Hey, Mel, I haven't done anything to her," he defends himself, face hard, "I just…don't like her as much as she likes me, I think,"
"Then think better!" you snap, "You do know, once you break that girl's heart, there is no going back? Once a person has known that kind of pain, there is no apologies,"
He looks up, and you make every effort so her doesn't see the broken glass in your eyes, "Why are you never with the people I know?"
"I told you, I don't like other people that much," you try not to sound defensive and fail, "You're an exception because you're interesting,"
"You mean because I'm a messed up love story," he suddenly looks very mad, and he stand up shakily, furious, "I'm nothing to you except Annabeth and Percy, the most complicated thing in existence,"
"No, Percy!" you're panicked, and he's trying to go, "Don't go!" you beg, "You're so much more,"
"No, I'm not, Melanie," his back is turned, and you can't see his face, "You're just one of those heartless girls who has nothing better to do,"
"I...I…Percy," his name is a plea, a desperate plea for him to hear you, for him to find you amongst this crowd of doubts that's in your head. But he's walking away.
You reach out, your hand almost grabbing his arm as he starts to leave you alone in the midst of traitorous trees, but stop.
You watch, helplessly, as he leaves you.
…
You spend your days around Camp Half-blood, touching cabins and sighing when they all just feel like a breeze. You can't remember the last time you've seen Percy. Eight months? Nine? Maybe even ten.
You sit on your table over at Aphrodite's, but you don't eat. Your siblings (oh my gods, you've still got siblings) eat without glancing at you. Well, except that cute little girl who once accidentally crosses eyes with you, but that's not important.
You lifelessly swim under the ocean waves, feeling a thrill when Poseidon's servants can't catch you. His dolphins are too slow and his whales too big. His hippocampi can't reach you at all, your swimming form disappearing under where the waters have too much pressure for any of them. You like to watch merpeople look annoyed as you laugh at them. Every time Poseidon's sea green eyes fix on yours, you smile, showing your teeth. Oh, how you love the thrill. How you love the danger. How you love that his fingers don't quite touch you, a white smile disappearing inside the ocean waves.
His face is always sad, never angry, but his movements are strong and agile, for a god. You never really think of him like you think of Percy, he's just, after all, his sire. He'll never be the real thing.
You come out of the water, completely dry (well, you can never be dry, but you're not wet, are you?) and scream so loudly you're sure everyone in the surface of this planet can hear you.
In truth, you're desperately holding to some hope that he will listen to your plea.
You're standing amongst a crowd when the news hit like a tidal wave. Percy and Annabeth are in Tartarus.
You almost want to laugh out loud. Seriously? Could they have done this more perfect for you?
Nothing goes with you when you leave, with a smirk, the camp you'd never attended to, missed by everyone and yet no one.
Oh, sweet and blissful irony.
…
You watch Reyna with a self-satisfied smile. She's so desperate that she can't hold herself together. When Rachel Elizabeth Dare (Percy left her) appears with a note on a napkin, you're exuberant. You never did manage to cross the atlantic by yourself, Poseidon's minions always getting a bit too close.
You're smiling as you mount on Skippy, the wind caressing your skin, not a year older than the day Percy Jackson found you smirking under a tree, clothed in a beautiful orange t-shirt and jeans. Reyna doesn't notice you, of course, but that doesn't meant the Pegasus doesn't wink at you before you get on it, and you're free.
Of course, after a while, you realize Reyna is slow.
You jump from the Pegasus, who barely glances at you, and crash against the waves, which rise to catch you, as you know they would. But you're in the water beyond the gods now, and you feel giddy as you swim, faster than any plane, and reach the doors of Death hours later. You stand, breathless (as always) as you step inside, no monster, no powerful sorceress to tell you against it. You've got the right, after all.
You walk with a smile, the monsters and Titans just rolling their eyes at you. They all know you, of course. Who hasn't heard of the weak, stupid goddess who made a deal with the wrong woman for the wrong man? Who doesn't know the story of a divinity so powerful she could make the Earth divide itself, but couldn't bring herself to poison a young man's heart?
They don't, of course. They all know you.
You reach them when they're about to reach the crowd of raging monsters, and Percy's lips form an O, when Annabeth, assuming you're a threat, buries a sword in your heart. And it does nothing at all.
The demigod doesn't falter under that, but Percy just says your name with disbelief, "Melanie," he whispers.
"Ugh, you mean that stupid mortal name?" you smile at him, your white greek tunic shining with the light of Tartarus, "I very much like to go with my own, but that one doesn't exist for a long time now,"
"Percy…" the teenager's voice is hard. "Who is this woman?"
Before the son of Poseidon can open his mouth, the Titan you now know is called Bob says, "The lady of no names," he says, "The lady of the sea,"
You smirk, "Now, let's get you out of Tartarus, shall we?"
…
"Don't…I can't…" you stare at him in wonder. Epiro…you taste the name on your lips, "I can't..."
The goddess of ghosts smirks, "He's got no ghosts yet, that one. But he soon will. War leaves a lot of ghosts, you know,"
"I am a goddess. He shall come to no harm, not while I leave," Your voice is unwavering, "How many times do you find a mortal like this?"
"You do realize your mother will have to make you a ghost again, don't you? And then I'll have you, my dear,"
The image of Epiro vanishes, and you nod shakily, "I am not ignorant to my fate. My life for his life,"
"He will die eventually, my lady." Her smile is dead, her fingers with ghosts on their ends.
"Then my life shall pay for his soul. He will always maintain his goodness. At least, until he reaches the eternal paradise,"
"Yes, the Isles. You realize you will never be able to see him don't you? A ghost, barely human, amongst a crowd in the Fields of those who forget their own names in Hades,"
You smile, "He is worth it,"
"Then, mother of this child, bring her back to being a dead mortal."
Your mother's face is the last thing you see. The last thing you say is "Gaea,"
They are both the same.
You spend hundreds of years in Hades before the Olympians defeat your mother.
Hades' expression has no compassion, his smile no emotion at all, "Ah, A –"
"I go now by Melanie," you say with a shrug, "My old name was that of a goddess's,"
"His name is Telemak now," he says, a cruel smile on his lips.
You smile, "I wish him happiness. I paid for it, didn't I?"
"Yes…and now's your time to pay for it. In Tartarus,"
You enter with a tear hanging from your eyes filled with memories that just won't go.
Telemak, is the last thing you think before the light is gone forever.
…
It seems almost too good to be true when the doors open, finally, after what seems thousands of years. You emerge immediately. You don't care about any price, any consequence, any condition. All you want is light.
And you dip yourself in blue water, from head to toe, a ghost now.
You never really appreciated being a goddess at all. The Titans are almost gone, but the demigod hero is not sixteen yet. But your mother has already opened her wretched doors. Always too early for the party, that one.
With a smile on your lips, your search for Epiro, for Telemak.
A name.
Percy.
Such a beautiful name, you think, and then you're in Camp Half-Blood.
…
Annabeth can't stop demanding an explication, and Percy seems frustrated, "I don't…"
Bob just smiles, an arm around you, and you smile at him, "Your other name wasn't quite so beautiful as this one, my friend,"
"Is it because Percy gave it to me?"
You smile against the cold air of Tartarus even as the giant approaches the doors, Annabeth screaming and Percy grabbing her by the waist. Can't they see?
You want to laugh. Seriously?
"Step away," your order, and, immediately, everyone but the Titans clear the path to the Doors of Death. The couple stares at you with disbelief, and Percy whispers your name incoherently.
The sun Titan glares at you, "Melanie! Leave us pass, you renegade goddess! You are a mortal, stupid!"
"Ah, and yet my oath was never to see him again," you gesture to Percy with a smile, "And here I am. I am the daughter of Gaia, the lady of no name, mistress of the sea, and I can control the future."
The light is blinding, the Titans are gone, and Percy and Annabeth are dumbfounded.
"Who are you?" she asks.
"Did you not listen to my dramatic speech?" you raise an eyebrow questioningly, "I am a goddess, child. I used to be a ghost, yes, but Tartarus is, after all, my stepfather. How could he let me maintain my deal when I had so clearly broken my vows?"
"What deal? What vows?"
With a smile, you point at the elevator, and you can practically feel Tartarus trying to make you flinch when you say, "I will press the button, mortals,"
"Melanie," his words are pleading. With resolve, you press a gentle kiss to his lips, and Annabeth gasps in surprise, "Be happy with her, Epiro, Telemak, Perseus. I will defeat my mother, who has troubled you far too much, I fear,"
Annabeth shares a look with you, and then she pushes Percy into the elevator, the demigod's face filled with shock and something close to anguish.
It's nothing compared to what you're feeling, but hey.
...
Your mother comes and sits with you.
Her sleeping face is directed towards you, a smile on her rosy lips, and she says, "Oh, my daughter. How long?"
"Around four thousand years, mother," you answer with a shrug, "Not that much, not truly, but I guess every child needs their own time to challenge their mother to the end."
The goddess smiles, "Isn't it a bit unfair? You do control the future, after all?"
"And Kronos controls time," you shrug, "That didn't mean his victory, did it?"
"It did not," your mother agrees with a smile. So gentle. "Let us fight,"
The last thing you do is scream, and you feel your body touching the saltwater while your mother's body, asleep forever, smiles.
…
There is a girl on Paradise.
She looks about, nineteen? Maybe eighteen. Her hair is black like the night, her eyes the color of honey. She is the Guardian of the entrance to Paradise. The Greeks called it some stupid Isles, the Egyptians just believed they would feast with the gods, the Christians believed they would be in heaven, and other, less popular and more modern cultures believed in rebirth.
None of which is true.
Paradise is a girl's smile, filled with longing, the only person who deserves it. There are m any faceless girls around her, each picking up flowers from the ground. In each flower a life. Every life that gets torn will not make it to paradise.
Melanie welcomes with open arms a man and a woman.
Percy and Annabeth.
They will be together, soon for eternity.
…
There is a girl in Paradise
She picks up flowers
In each flower there's a life
In each life a coward
But there are also strong trees,
Filled with leafs of brave men and women,
She never picks up their lives,
Just lets them get to paradise.
...
Percy Jackson never doubts Melanie loved him.
He just doubts she ever knew he was in love with her, once upon a time.
She's the daughter of Gaia, the goddess of the future, and is pretty much freaking badass-y. Anyway, PM me for doubts and keep being awesome!
-ChocolateIsMyDoom