The Kids Aren't Alright
Violet's life was destined to be unusual when she was born the daughter of a genius, billionaire, playboy, and philanthropist; Tony Stark. Also being the daughter of a Greek Goddess was just another added variable.
Chapter One: Following a Bird Across the Country (feat. The Lunch Lady's Sister)
Violet really wasn't sure what happened.
The day was going pretty well. Only a few kids laughed when she couldn't pronounce th, and she had already made a friend. A pretty girl named Maddie sat next to her during arts and crafts and declared Violet her new best friend. It was nice.
She couldn't wait until she got home and told her dad all about her day. Maddie and Maddie's other best friend, Tia, had picked flowers with her during recess. Then they played tag but had to stop when the boys wanted to join in.
"We don't like boys," Maddie said, "they have cooties."
The two girls were seven, with Tia almost being eight (her birthday was in October), so Violet figured they had to know what they were talking about. They explained cooties as a disease boys had, and if you got it, you had cooties too.
She really didn't want cooties.
Then it all went wrong. She had done it again.
She didn't remember what had happened, only that her newest teacher was giving her the chills and was staring her classmate down. But not in a way a teacher would—she looked like she considered the boy her next meal.
For the life of her, she couldn't figure out where the fire came from. One second, she was watching Eddie, who was being watched by the teacher, and the next there was a fire in the classroom and the teacher was screeching—"Fire! Fire!" And was staring at her.
Violet knew she didn't make the flames. She had no way of doing so. She had learned the lesson of don't play with matches already, she knew better!
But she knew they would find a way to blame her. Like the Art Room. They would ship her back off to therapy school and her dad would have even more stress on his plate.
Violet felt tears come to her eyes. She sat alone on a bench only a stone throw away from her school building, her body turned to watch the children evacuate, guilt leaking into the pit of her stomach.
She was crying now, sniffling and wiping her cheeks off with the sleeves of her cardigan. Her school tights were itchy and she was cold.
Violet huffed, moving her body so she was sitting forwards, looking out into the forest that sat behind her school. She knew she'd have to go back soon, she couldn't just run away.
Or could she?
Wiping more tears off her cheeks, something white caught her vision. She furrowed her eyebrows together, making out what looked like a pure white bird nestled in the trees, beady eyes starring her down. In its mouth was some kind of fancy tree branch. It tilted cocked its head, seemingly saying: Follow me.
Something felt familiar about the bird. It caused a warmth in her chest, the kind being with her dad caused. The loud shrill sound of the fire alarm blared behind her, like it was taunting, you won't do it, you won't run away.
The bird flapped its wings open, ready to take off. Violet got off the bench, pulling her bright pink Strawberry Shortcake backpack on, and nodded. She was going to follow that bird.
It had only been two hours.
Her feet ached, she was hungry, and she missed her dad. She felt stupid, chasing after a bird that went from tree to tree, never dropping the dumb stick. Her stomach would growl and her cheeks would heat up, as if the bird judged her.
If she ever lagged behind, or ever stopped to consider running to the nearest restaurant and calling home, it would flap over her and make bird noises. It allowed her a few breaks to rest on benches, but when it deemed she'd rest enough, it'd peck at her.
Violet figured if she got hungry enough she'd eat the bird.
As if it heard her thoughts, it let out an offended hoot and swooped over her head, branch flapping against the wind as it dragged her to the direction of the closest McDonald's. She could only tell because of the few signs that would pop up, typically when she walked on the grassy part beside highways.
The big Golden arches were a welcomed sight, telling her that food was nearby and she wasn't going to have to eat her guide. Her stomach garbled, causing her to place a hand on it.
Oh yeah, she had no money. Plus, she doubted they would serve McDonald's to a six-year-old.
Violet sighed, stopping her steps halfway through the parking lot as she considered this. She was probably dirty, dressed in a school uniform, and alone. The bird above her went crazy, doing flips and dives in the air, and each time it would point its beak towards the restaurant.
"I can't," Violet said, "I have no money."
That didn't help anything, it only made her feel stupid for talking to a bird. She figured that, if she stood there any longer, she was either going to get hit by a car or the bird would poop on her, so she made hurried steps into the restaurant.
The smell of McDonald's caused her mouth to water. On a good day, her and her dad together could gobble down five of their cheeseburgers. Thinking about that just caused her to miss her dad, so she ignored it.
Brushing pieces of brown hair away from her face, she got into line. Maybe she could get a few pity fries, even if they ended up being cold and state. She was hungry.
"What can I get yo…" The teenager working the cash register faltered at the sight of her. She looked to be about fifteen, with dark skin, thick curls, and overall pretty features. Her nametag said: Hello! I'm Michelle.
Violet smiled at her. "Can I have a happy meal?" She figured go big or go home. And she was running away, so she had no choice but to go big.
Michelle's eyes went unfocused for a second, then, she nodded. She grinned down at Violet like she was the best thing she'd ever seen, "You wait right here, I'll go get you your meal." And left into the kitchen area.
Her jaw dropped.
Within a couple of minutes, Michelle walked in, a Happy Meal box in hand. She gave it to Violet without asking for any money, and Violet, not wanting her to realize what she had done and take it back, quickly made her way out of the place.
The bird almost looked cocky.
Violet had been following the bird for two days, sleeping under park benches (so if it rained she wouldn't get soaked) and asking very nicely to get food. She had no clue why the cash register person in every McDonald's she went to had no problem giving her a Happy Meal, but she wasn't going to question it.
Her feet ached even worse than the first day, and she had no doubt she was burning holes into the souls of her shoes. The dove had been speeding up, like it was dragging her towards a destination, and she had a time limit.
It was then when she decided she needed a ride, to spare her poor feet.
That was how she discovered that she could do more than talk her way into McDonald's—the woman working the train ticket stand didn't even blink when handing over a train ticket to El Paso, Texas (as chosen by the bird she had now dubbed Pep, after Pepper. She'd point at a place on the train map and watch the bird's reaction, El Paso had the best).
While waiting for the train, she attempted to clean up in the station's bathroom. Her face was smeared with dirt and there were a few leaves in her hair. Using the water from the sink and the soap the place offered, she attempted to clean herself off.
The one thing she couldn't fix was the many tears and newly made holes in her school uniform. Her tights looked like someone attacked them with a pair of scissors, her cardigan went from a cream color to an off brown, and had snags all over.
Her shoes looked the worst. They, when she left, was a polished black, gleaming in the sun. Now they were caked in mud with pieces of grass stuck to it. She pulled them off, ignoring the cold feeling of the gross public bathroom floor, and washed them off into the sink.
She felt bad for whoever had to clean up the chunks of dirt from the sink.
Pep had followed her into the bathroom. Feeling bad for the poor bird, for, as far as she was aware, had not drunk or ate anything since the start, she cupped her hands together to make a makeshift cup for it. Pep had little trouble also using her hands as a birdbath.
Still, it didn't drop the branch.
When it was time, she boarded the train. Pep followed after her, and if anyone else saw her, they either didn't care or didn't feel like reacting. Their eyes filtered right over the feathered creature like it didn't exist.
The train ride was eighteen hours.
For a good majority of the ride, no one talked to her. Everyone was all caught up in their own stuff—reading, talking on their phones, or other mind-numbing things to help with boredom. Herself, when she wasn't sleeping, used the stuff in her old school-bag to color.
It was when they made it to Lordsburg, New York, only three hours to go, when someone first talked to her.
She was busy drawing a picture of her, her dad, and Pepper (the woman, not the bird) when a woman approached her. She was a redhead, though obviously died, with dark brown eyes and wrinkled around her mouth. "Hello," she said.
"Hi," Violet responded, looking up from her artwork.
The woman looked her over, seemingly assessing her outfit, "You're… the Stark girl, aren't you?"
Violet's eyes had grown a considerable size, as she realized that this woman knew who she was! She couldn't believe that she had made it this far just to be dragged back, because obviously she was going to call the police!
So, she did what she thought was sensible, "No."
The woman nodded her head, running a few fingers through her hair. Her eyes became glossed over, sort of like Michelle from McDonald's, and smiled, "Oh, my bad!" She said in an overly cheerful voice, and left her alone.
She got off exactly two hours and fifty-five minutes later, using water and a paper towel in a failed attempt to brush her teeth. Her breath stank of Happy Meals and sleep, but she had no choice but to suffer through it.
Pep, who had mainly slept during the ride, flew her way towards another train map. Violet groaned out, "Another train? Aren't we fere?" Once more, she pronounced her th wrong.
The bird just cawed in response.
So they played the pointing game, deciding on New Orleans. Once more she asked the man at the ticket area, and he handed them over without pay.
Her stomach grumbled again, as it had been about twenty-one hours since her last meal. She looked up at Pep, "Food?"
Violet followed the white bird to a new place this time—Wendy's. When it was her turn to order, she chose the first thing her eyes saw, a Bacanator and a side of fries, plus a drink. Like always, she got it without money.
She attempted to feed a few fries to Pep, but the bird refused to drop the branch. She grew worried, what if it starved?
After she had finished her meal and threw the bags away, she followed the bird back to the train station. She was stopped halfway by another feathered woman.
Stood in the middle of the pathway she followed to Wendy's was a woman with pitch-black flowers, white talons growing out of her hands, and an evil glint in her red eyes.
"Demigod!"
Pep made a pained noise, and flew off—Violet had cried out when she noticed, now alone (though, to be fair, it was a bird… that she was trusting to lead her to safety) and facing what looked like her evil lunch lady's sister.
"You killed Adela's sister!"
Oh, it was her evil lunch lady's sister.
"Adela has hunted you down, weakling! Adela will avenge Azela!"
Violet swallowed, eyes scanning the area for anything she could use to fight back, assuming that Adela was anything like Azela. Her eyes widened as she realized she had a pair of scissors in her bookbag, but she needed to get to them without getting killed.
"Prepare to die!" Adela charged at her, black wings flapping as she snapped her teeth at her. Violet made a noise that sounded like 'aaaaah' and took several steps backward, ducking to miss the flying bird-lady.
She removed her bright pink bookbag from her back, quickly opening the zipper and rummaging her hand through it. There was a loud squawk, the sound of flapping wings once more, and then the sounds of claws digging against dirt.
Violet's fingers clutched around her dark purple safety scissors, hoping they were good enough to kill a lunch lady. Or, a lunch lady's sister.
Stand up, a gust of wind brushed her hair away from her face and behind her like a cape, making her feel like a superhero. (Which, it would be super cool to be a superhero).
Adela kicked her foot against the ground, like she was ramping up to come and eat her. "Don't you want me to be salty?" She asked, knowing that this was the opposite of a time to do so.
"No!" Cried Adela, "I like mine plain—children of Aphrodite always taste like cherries, anyways!"
"Oh," Violet blinked, who was Aphrodite? "Okay."
She held her safety scissors up like it was a knife, having a faint remembrance of the last school year when she did the same. The only difference was this time she had done it before, and they were on a hiking trail, not a messed up Art Room.
The Art Room was going to haunt her forever, apparently.
Done with the talking, Adela flew towards her. Her talon gripped onto her shoulder, and for a fleeting moment, she felt her worn-down dress shoes lift off the ground. She panicked, and, without thinking, used the full force of her noodle arm to stab the scissors into the chest of the bird-woman.
Said creature let out a screech, dropping her to fall onto the ground with a humph!
"You stabbed Adela!" She screeched, "With the weapon of a child! Unacceptable!"
Violet blinked, collecting her thoughts. Her hazel eyes tempted to focus on the midnight black of the woman's fathers, but the fall had knocked all sense from her small body.
Adela crept up on her, face overtaken with an evil smile. The scissors had fallen from Violet's grip, landing far enough away that she couldn't grab them. She opened her mouth like a snake's jaw unhinged.
Then there was the sound of wings flapping. A lot of wings flapping.
Violet turned her eyes from Adela to what looked like a cloud in the sky. Wait… no, a group of birds flying together. Each was pure white, the same breed as Pep—who was leading the group with the branch in beak.
"What?" Cried Adela, "No! No!"
The birds swooped, surrounding the woman in a swarm of pure white. She screeched, claws attempting to hit the birds, but each time she somehow managed to miss.
Violet wanted to watch with wide eyes, but instead used this moment to grab her scissors. She figured she had to do what she did to Azela, stab her through the mouth.
"Fank you!" Violet called, "But you can't kill her," she brushed a chunk of hair out of her face, "I fink I can." Stupid th made that moment a lot less cool.
As if they listened to her command, the birds moved away, leaving a ruffled Adela crouched on the ground. Her wings were waving around wildly, seemingly unaware that they had left her alone.
"Hey!" Violet felt brave—at least, braver than she did before. Wielding her weapon of a child and glaring down a quivering bird-lady, she felt like she could take on the world. "Bird face!"
Adela turned to her, red eyes narrowing at the sight of her. "Little demigod has to hide behind mother's helpers? Pathetic!"
She chose to ignore that comment until after she had killed them, as she figured trying to decypher the enemies' words during a fight was just a way to get distracted.
She rose from the ground, shaking her winged arms out. "Little demigod thinks she can fight Adela? Hah!" She started laughing, loudly.
Violet shrugged, and charged. The wind whipped at her hair, but she ignored it, and instead focused on Adela's open mouth. And, without the sound of her scissors going through the woman's flesh, she had killed her.
And, to prove the point, the woman burst into the yellow powder.
"Oh, good!" A chirpy voice called out from behind her, "I knew you could do it!"
I wrote all of this at 3am, so if it's a bad chapter there is a 50% chance I'll take it down and revamp, but tired me doesn't think things through and refuses to let not-tired me check it over. Please don't roast this chapter.
REVIEWS
AshleyMistic - Thank you so much!
Bookworm6908 - Thanks!
Mary2602 - I plan to, thanks for reading!
Natives11 - I love the idea, but I already have my plans for her! I do follow that, somewhat, with my OC Stefanya in my book Little Thief, if you're disappointed I don't do that here. However, I wrote out the main sketch of the book's plotline before I started writing! Thanks for reading through, hope you continue to enjoy 3