"I'm sorry, Percy. I really am," my mom said.

"Its fine, Mom," I said. "It's not your fault. It's Gabe's."

I'm Percy Jackson. I'm a pretty troubled kid, or teen. Whatever you prefer. I cause a lot of trouble, and get kicked out of schools almost every year or more. Obviously, my grades are awful, and cause a lot of trouble outside of school too.

My mom, Sally Jackson, is one of the nicest people in the world, but married to the biggest jerk ever, Gabe Ugliano. Gabe had a job in Queens, but mostly worked at home, and it was a wonder that he still had the job. He usually played poker all day with his drinking buddies. He'd not the best fatherly figure there is. He expects me to provide his gambling funds and buy his beer and all that (and got in trouble for that too), which is our "man secret."

I don't know who my father is, and my mom gets all sad when she talks about him. She said that I look like him, with my unruly black hair and green eyes. He must've been a nice man, but I held some resentment towards him for leaving my mom. They didn't contact each other after he left—which was before I was born.

I'm really glad that Gabe's not my dad, or else I would've looked a hundred times uglier than I am now. And it would hurt my pride that a pig like him was my dad. I don't even want to think about the possibilities.

"We'll run away," she said. "Before school starts. We still have about a week left."

"But to where?" I asked. I wasn't against the idea—I was totally up for it, especially since I found out that he hits my mom. But we had so many problems like shelter and financial problems.

"I don't know," she admitted. "I can try to do some more part-time jobs to earn some more money… After that, well, I can try contacting your dad. He'll help us, I'm sure of it."

My bedroom door burst open, and some unread books and blank homework fell to the ground as it hit the wall.

"Planning on running away, huh?" Gabe snarled.

"Oh, Gabe!" my mom jumped. "Oh, no it's not that. We were just discussing some—"

"Story ideas," I finished, glaring at Gabe.

"Yes!" my mom said. "You know, I told you that I wanted to be an author."

"Sure," he said. His putrid odor reached my nose and spread throughout my room. "Thinking about contacting your dad, punk? Not going to happen."

I stayed silent.

"And you want a fatherly figure? What did I do that was not like a parent?" he growled.

I gulped. I hoped this was just a coincidence and he never listened to the things I talked about with my mom. "Well, first of all," I said, gathering up my courage, "you expose your son to gambling at a very young age, second, you expect me to pay your gambling bills and buy you beer. You also don't do anything to help my education, and lastly, you hit my mom!"

"Gabe," my mom said softly, despite the shock she must be feeling. "At least that much is wrong. Just admit it."

"So I'm the only one who did wrong things?" he yelled. "That brat does other things he shouldn't be doing!"

I turned pale as he brought out the drugs. Yeah, I do drugs. I started them since I entered high school because of the stress from school and at home. As far as I knew, no one knew about it, but turns out that Gabe found out.

"He did drugs for more than a year, Sally," he said smugly. "He's even part of a gang from his high school that he got kicked out of. You know, the street gangs that do graffiti and all that stuff. So I grounded him, or gave him the proper treatment that was deserved!"

My mom looked at me with wide eyes. She was finding out way too many things right now. "Percy…"

"And you want me to do something fatherly?" Gabe said, and I smelled the scent of beer and other nasty things all the way over here. "I'll give him a chance and send him to a boarding school for troubled kids like him!"

"Gabe, no!" my mom cried. "We've been over this! We're done with all the boarding schools. Please."

He glared at me with his pudgy eyes. "Out you go, punk."

"You can't just kick me out of my own room!" I protested.

I felt a sharp ringing pain in my gut. "Yes I can, and you will listen to me," he growled. He pointed to the door, and when I didn't leave, he gave me another punch in the gut.

I rolled into a ball on the floor, and my mom just stayed there, helpless, with tears coming out of her eyes. Gabe kicked me out—literally—and shut the door behind me.

I ignored the pain and pressed my ear to the door.

"Gabe, that was too much," my mom said. "You can't just hit your own child like that."

"He's not my son," he said. "He's a disgrace to the human population."

As you are, I thought.

"We agreed not to send him to any more boarding schools," my mom said.

That happened a few years ago when I accidently flooded a boarding school, and of course Gabe got mad. Then he pretended that he was fine with it, and suggested that we should have some "family time" to get my brain on the right track.

"Well, he's a troubled kid, and I'm being nice about that," Gabe snapped, and there was a sharp sound, like someone being slapped.

"He's not," my mom defended. "Show me some more proof."

"Why? The fact that he does drugs and is part of a gang doesn't trouble you?"

"It does," she said. "But—"

"Well, there you go," he snapped. "Problem solved."

"But Gabe!" she said. "We're already planning on enrolling him in another school!"

"Then here's the good news. I already got him enrolled," he snarled.

The door handle moved and I ran over to the kitchen and pretended like I was grabbing something to eat.

"Hey, punk," Gabe said, narrowing his pig-like eyes. "Pack your things. You're leaving."

"No I'm not," I said stubbornly. "I'm not going to that boarding school. I'm staying at home."

But at the same time, I doubted it. I'd been waiting forever to leave Gabe. But whenever I was sent to a boarding school, I was too worried about my mom.

"Come on Percy," my mom said wiping off all her tears. "Do as your father says."

"He's not my father," I grumbled but followed her back into my room anyway.

"Your stepfather then," she amended.

My mom closed the door behind us.

"You overheard everything, didn't you?" she asked. She rummaged around my closet and pulled out my old bag that I used in my boarding school times.

"Yeah," I admitted. "Does Gabe know?"

She shrugged. "I'm not too sure myself. You know how he is. He's pretty dull."

I hid a smile. There's another thing that would've hindered my body if he was my father; I would be even stupider than I am now.

"But why am I leaving now?" I asked. "School doesn't start until like a few more weeks!"

"They don't let any students out, even on break," my mom said. "It's actually a well-known school for criminals."

My blood turned cold. I wasn't a criminal. Far from it—not that I was innocent. I was far from being innocent too.

"Am I really a criminal?" I asked quietly as I threw some clothes into my bag.

"Oh, honey," my mom said. "You're not, and I'm not lying. Trust me."

"I do," I sighed. "I'm just worried about what'll happen to you when I'm gone."

"Oh, I'll be fine," she said quickly. "I'll work some more to earn more money. Then we can do you-know-what."

She smiled, and all that anger melted from inside of me. Every time my mom smiled, she made me feel so much happier. And she didn't smile for nearly the whole day.

"Thanks for everything, Mom," I smiled.

"Just because Gabe said that doesn't mean I'm giving up on it," she whispered. "You know what? I'll make you some of my chocolate chip cookies before you leave."

My eyes widened. "Will they be blue?"

"Of course," she laughed. "Hurry up and pack up, okay?"

She left my room and I felt so much gloomier right after she left as if she took the happiness with her. I stuffed my toothbrush somewhere between my clothes. I'd probably find it later. I grabbed some pencils and pens and stuffed them somewhere… I didn't want to lose all of them again.

"Am I really a criminal?" I mumbled absently. I had always told myself that doing all the bad things was okay because it was a way to relieve my stress. That didn't mean I hated it. It was relieving and fun once in a while—hanging out with the gang, not taking drugs. I had no idea how to make drugs "fun."

I looked at the bottle of drugs that Gabe threw on my bed. I held it in my hands, wondering if I should take it or not.

"Percy!" my mom called. "The cookies are ready!"

I looked at the bottle of drugs.

"I'm not a criminal or anything like that," I told myself and dumped it back on the bed.

I'm just taking it one step at a time.

"Dig in, Percy," my mom said ruffling my hair. "After this, I'm taking you to your new school."

My cookie stopped halfway to my mouth and I scowled. "Yes, Mom."

The happiness from the blue cookies melted away just like that. She made it for me ever since I was little, even before Gabe came. I stopped munching on my cookie as I tried to hold onto that memory.

"Nope, I'm taking you," Gabe said.

"Uh, I'd rather have my mom take me," I said.

"I'm taking you to your new school. You wanted me to do something fatherly."

"Then as a father, listen to my request about letting my mom take me," I argued.

"Sally, you stay here. I'm taking this runt to school," he said.

"What, no!" I protested.

"To the car," he said.

He grabbed my hair with his meaty hand and dragged me out the door. The last I saw of my mom was her sad face as the door slammed shut in my face. He kept dragging me to his stinky old car and shoved my in the shotgun seat (unfortunately). Now I had to smell more of his stinky odor on our way to school.

"You should be pleased that I didn't tell your mom everything," Gabe growled.

"What did I do then?" I challenged.

Gabe swerved a left, and my head slammed against the window.

"Hey!" I yelled. "Watch it. How'd you even get your driver's license like this? Did you threaten them or something?"

"Shut your mouth," he said. "You should be glad that I didn't tell her about what you do on the streets, running around with a gun!'

"I didn't kill anyone!" I snapped. "Maybe I shot some people, but I made sure they were minor injuries. And go ahead and regale me on all my adventures with my little street gang."

Gabe glared at me and swerved the car on every single turn until we finally arrived at the school.

"I'm going to get a concussion one day because of you," I grumbled. "And I'm going to press charges."

Gabe rolled his eyes and dragged me to the school.

The school was a big white building that said Goode High School for Adolescent Criminals in blue letters on the top. Apparently it was a famous school, but it was the first time I've heard of it.

Gabe burst in through the doors like he owned the place, and I sighed and followed him. I didn't want anyone seeing me following this pig, but oh well.

He found the office quickly, considering his tiny brain, and shoved me in first.

"Who is it?" a guy—probably the principal—drawled. "What do you want?"

The guy had a face similar to Gabe's, probably meaning that he was an alcoholic. He had a pudgy face and curly black hair that reminded me of cherubs. His eyes were full of madness, and he had the weirdest fashion sense ever.

"I'm a new student here," I said, when Gabe punched me in the back. "This is my stepfather Gabe Ugliano."

I gagged when I said his name. He even had the word ugly in his name to show that natural characteristic.

"I'm Mr. D, the principal," Mr. D said. "And don't expect me to be glad that you're here."

"Trust me. I'm not glad to be here either," I grumbled.

Gabe and I pulled up two seats as Mr. D talked in his annoying voice about the school and how you're not allowed to leave, and how certain people aren't allowed to leave even after graduating. He talked like Gabe actually. Just a bit… less… uh, offensive? I'd never thought I'd say that, but there you go.

"So what are you waiting for kid? Introduce yourself. I don't have all day!" Mr. D snapped.

"I'm Percy Jackson," I said. I was hating this guy more and more as the seconds ticked on.

"I knew that, Peter," Mr. D said, causing my jaw to drop. "Now leave while I talk to your stepfather over here."

I left the office, and I was wondering who would snap first, Gabe or Mr. D. Or maybe they'd get along just fine, considering that they were both alcoholics.

I stood outside like an idiot with my bags at my feet. I saw a girl with blond hair pass by the office. She gave me a hard look as she walked by.

"Come in Pierre," Mr. D ordered.

I sat back in my seat with my bags. "It's Percy," I said.

He ignored me. "Here's your dorm key," he said throwing me a dusty key with a little plastic tag that said Room 03G. "The boys' dorms are on the west wing, second floor. Don't get lost, not that I care, really. Classes start in two weeks."

Mr. D kicked me out of the room and continued talking with Gabe. I rolled by eyes and lugged my bags upstairs. And naturally, the rooms were in descending order so I had to go nearly all the way to the back of the long hallway. Seriously. Is it necessary to have like hundreds of rooms just for the boys?

I stopped at a blue door with 03 written on it in gold. I shoved my key in the lock and went in.

The room was pretty spacious, considering it was only a dorm room. There was a restroom connected to the room, and there was a bunk bed over on the right side of the wall. There was a desk on the other side, right next to the window, and a closet on the right. But the room was really dusty.

I closed the door behind me and dumped my bags on the foot of the bed and sighed. Now I was locked in this school forever.

So this is my new story I'll be mostly working on now. It was either this or the Pirate AU, but I used a randomizer and got this. Personally, I would've liked the Pirate AU better, but this is fine too. Haha. I'm so sorry about how this chapter turned out though. It's not as good as I wanted it to be, but some suggestions on how to improve would be nice. I'll try to make my next chapter better than this one.

P.S. It's probably very obvious, but I'm gonna say it anyway. I obviously don't know much about gangs and drugs and stuff. So I'm gonna put a sorry note right here, because many things will probably be inaccurate. Thanks for reading!