Thalia
I couldn't sleep. My eyes wouldn't stay closed, and my breathing wouldn't slow down.
I rolled over to face my digital clock on my nightstand.
11:47. Shit.
If I got no sleep, I would be drowsy and irritable all day tomorrow. I tried again to calm down and focus on something other than what was haunting my mind.
Something other than Jason and Camp Jupiter…
"Thalia, honey, can you go fetch the lemonade from the truck?" my mother asked me, her fake smile plastered on her surgically perfected face as she took my brother from my arms. I could instantly tell that she was faking it. She was never this nice to me.
"Mom, what about Jason?" I questioned her sternly. I didn't trust my mother, even with my brother, her own son. She was unstable; you could never predict what she would do or say.
"Jason can stay with me. It's okay, Thalia; just go get the apple juice."
"You mean the lemonade?"
"Yes, the lemonade. Go get it." And with that, I turned and headed back to our big Volvo. I knew not to object to my mother because I knew how horrid she could be. Our fights would keep little Jason up most of the night, screaming and crying as if hell was being released.
When I got there, though, there wasn't any lemonade or apple juice. She tricked me, I thought. Why did you trust her, I scolded myself, as I ran back to my mother as fast as my legs would carry me.
But when I got to her, Jason was gone. She was holding herself and crying like a spoiled child, muttering, "He's gone… he's dead. My son…"
My baby brother… was dead?
I felt the familiar tears well in my eyes as I thought back to that day. Thank the gods he wasn't dead. But he was taken. The one thing in my life that had actual meaning to me was taken away from me.
I remembered all of the tear-filled nights following the incident:
"Mom, tell me what the hell happened!" I demanded, my voice quavering.
She shook her head as tears fell down her cheeks, causing her mascara to run. "I don't know… she just took him…"
"Who! Tell me who!" I screamed, pushing the rocking chair down on its side. She knew exactly what happened; why won't she tell me anything, though?
"What do you think you're doing with that chair, you little bitch!" She screeched, her claw-like nails now gripping a bottle of vodka. Wasn't it only a half hour ago when she had finished a whole bottle of whiskey?
"I'm pushing the damn thing over! Who took Jason! You know, and you won't freaking tell me!" I hollered at her, feeling every heartbeat gift me with a new round of energy.
"Just shut up! Shut up and get the hell out of my face!" she cried, throwing the vodka bottle at me after chugging it all down with one swig.
"I'm not in your face, you horrid bitch!" I screamed, dodging it.
"Shut the fuck up, you monster!" She countered, sneering with an unnatural pleasure. Unlike her other hateful comments, that struck me. She never got this drunk, and she never said or did things like this to me.
"You know what! I'm outta here; I can't take another second in this hellhole with you!"
"Fine, see if I care, you little piece of shit! Go ahead and get your god-damned ass outta here!" she hollered after me as I stormed to my room.
And with that, I packed enough of my belongings to fill my backpack and got the hell out of there, just what she had wanted.
I shook my head. I needed to get the bitch off my mind.
I looked back at the clock. 11:54.
SHIT. I needed to get to sleep. Why was this so hard all of a sudden?