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Running wasn't the smartest idea, I know. I probably only made it worse by running, but I was freaked out. My teacher just tried to kill me, or I was crazy. I was probably crazy, that was more likely anyways. I needed to be on medication or something. I was definitely going to look into it. And Sage needed to be on medication too. But how could she have seen the same thing I had? Unless I had been dreaming. Yeah, that had to be it, it was all a dream. So why was I still running home? Because it seemed so real, whispered a voice in the back of my head. I ignored it and walked through my front door.

My dad was working out in front of the T.V. He looked over at me, surprised that I was home.

"Lucy, what are you doing here?" he said, surprised.

"Daddy," I said, my eyes filling with tears. "I think I need to go on medication." I hated the way that sounded coming out of my mouth, like the words didn't taste right.

My dad got off the bike cautiously, staring at me. "You know that you have to be careful about that because of your diabetes."

"I know, but this is serious. I… I think I have been hallucinating. I wouldn't ask unless I thought I needed it."

"So you ran all the way here, to tell me that you want to go on medication? It couldn't wait until you got home?"

"No, it was important." I said, shaking my head.

"Hmm, well. We will talk to your mother about this. What exactly did you 'hallucinate'?" he made air quotes around the word hallucinate. He seemed doubtful that I needed anything of the sort, but I told him anyway.

"Um, well, I was in science class. And Sage and I were talking when a substitute walked in. he kept calling on me, getting me in trouble. And then all of a sudden, he started to grow. And I mean huge. And then he started flipping desks and he grabbed me by the neck, and he almost killed me, but Sage saved me. And then he turned on Sage and almost killed her, but I grabbed scissors and I stabbed him, and he disintegrated into yellow stuff that got all over me and Sage. And then, the principal walked in, and I was freaked out, so I ran here. Crazy, huh?" I laughed nervously, shifting my weight from one foot to the other.

Dad paled, but all he said was, "are you sure you just didn't dream it? You're sure the principal saw?"

I nodded. "Okay," he said. "Well you can stay home for the rest of the day. We will have a talk with mom when she comes home." He gave me a very sweaty hug and got back on his bike.

Not five minutes later, Asana burst in through the door. "Lucienne! What the hell happened to you?!"

"Asana! How did you get in here?" my father demanded.

Asana grinned sheepishly. "Sorry Mr. Gauthier, but I know where you keep the spare key." She dangled it in front of him. I couldn't help but to smile at her.

Shaking his head in disbelief, my dad mumbled something about finding a better hiding spot.

"Shouldn't you be at school?" I asked her.

She laughed shortly. "Shouldn't you be? School shmool. I was more worried about you anyways, I heard there was an accident involving you, but I didn't get very many details. Besides, we only have like, half an hour left of class anyways. Your room! Now!" she pointed down the hallway. We marched all the way there, and she shut my door and locked it.

Asana put her hands on her tiny hips. "Lucienne, what happened? Tell me everything."

I turned away from her and went to the fire escape of my apartment. I watched the cars and the New Yorkers walking, talking on cell phones, pulling their children along, the tourists taking pictures. My eyes were welling with tears again, but this time, I let them spill over onto my cheeks, and I brushed them away angrily. Asana crept up behind me and put her arms around me and her head on my shoulder.

"Why can't I just be normal?" I whispered. "What is wrong with me?"

"Nothing is wrong with you, Lulu. You are just different. So am I. Sometimes it may seem like a bad thing, but most of the time I count my lucky stars, because I know that I am not like everyone else. Now are you gonna tell me what happened or do I have to use my best friend telepathy to try and figure it out?"

And so I explained to her what happened. When I finished, she nodded and looked grim. She told me everything was gonna be okay, and gave me a hug. She announced that she had to use the washroom, and walked out of my room. I left my room also and I went to go get some chips and pop for us to munch on. Walking past the washroom, I noticed that the light wasn't on. How strange was that? Who uses the washroom in the dark? I pushed on the door, and she wasn't in there. Puzzled, I continued down the hallway. I saw Asana standing next to my father, both of them looking pale and upset about something. I only heard Asana say one thing:

"It's time."

My father nodded. "I figured it would be soon. Who will tell her?"

"I would offer to, but I'm afraid that she won't believe it if it comes from me. It is probably best if you and Mrs. Gauthier tell her, and soon. Like tonight. I fear there is little time left before things start getting worse. I must be going; I have to pack for camp. I leave tomorrow, and Sage and I will gladly take Luce with us, it is probably the safest way. Good luck."

She started to come back down the hallway. Feeling dizzy, I stumbled all the way to my room, and sat on my bed. She opened the door shortly after and smiled.

"Hey, I'm gonna head home. I will call you later, and I will probably come see you before I leave for camp tomorrow. You gonna be okay? You don't look so good."

I nodded and waved my hand in dismissal. She gave me a big hug, and then she left. I laid down on my bed and stared at the cheesy glow-in-the-dark stars that I had stuck on the ceiling a couple of years back. What did Asana mean by "it's time"? Whatever it was, were mom and dad going to tell me tonight? Why was she saying I could go to camp with her? Did it connect with what happened in class today? I punched my pillow in frustration. Why couldn't anyone just give me a straight answer?

I went over to my piano and started to play. I am really good with music, it is my favourite subject. I can pretty much play any instrument, including singing. About an hour later, I heard a soft knock at my door. My mom walked in, still wearing her business suit, and sat on my bed. After awhile, she looked at me.

"I heard what happened today."

I sighed and turned towards the wall, so I didn't have to look at her. "I don't wanna talk about it."

"I think we need to talk about it. Honey, your father and I have something important to tell you. I think you should come into the living room with me."

She got up and went to the door. Confused, hurt, and angry, I had no choice but to follow her. My father was sitting on the couch, looking like he did when I first told him what happened. I sat down across from him and immediately glanced down at the hem of my shirt and started to play with it. I stole a glance from my mother, who was staring at my father and biting her lip and nervously tucking her curly blonde hair behind her ears. Quickly, I looked back down at my shirt as she began to speak.

"There really is no easy way to say this to you. I guess I had better just come out and say it. Sweetheart, your father, well, he's not your real father. Not biologically, anyways."

I could feel my eyes widen as I looked at my father. I could tell that he was very upset. I looked at my mother. He eyes were filled with tears. My heart fluttered and my stomach went into knots. I felt dizzy and faint. And then I said something really intelligent, like "Wh-what?"

My mom finally stopped pacing and came over and sat down next to me. "I will start from the beginning. I met your father one summer when I was 20. He was charming, sweet, handsome-" my dad cleared his throat. "Anyways," mom continued hastily. "We fell in love that summer. We were even together when I had to go back to work. But then, something wonderful happened, and I got pregnant with you. It seemed perfect; it would be me, your father, and you, our happy little family. But then one day just a week after you were born, he left, and never came back. He told me he had to go on a trip for business. I couldn't do it by myself; I was only 20 years old. And then I met your, um, well your father," she gestured towards the man who was supposed to be my father. "And I fell in love with him too. You were only a couple of months old, and I explained to him what had happened. He agreed to take you in as his own, because he loved us both. We still love each other very much, and he makes me happier then I have ever been. He is still your father, Lucienne, even if it is not biological. We both love you very, very much."

I pondered the whole story for a few minutes. So my real father had left my mother with a baby to take care of all by herself. Jerk. How could he just leave her like that? How could the man sitting next to me, the man who pushed me on the swings and put band-aids on my cuts, who taught me how to ride a bike, not be my real father?

"Why did he agree to act like my father? To pretend? What else are you hiding from me?" I asked. Did they think I was stupid? Did they think I wouldn't know they were keeping a secret?

"First of all, he wasn't pretending, he is your father. Secondly, the reason we had to was because you had to know as little as possible about your biological father's side of the family." My mom's green eyes were filled with tears, with the pain that the memories brought back.

"… What's wrong with my father's side of the family?" I asked cautiously.

Taking a deep breath, my mother answered my question. "Your father," she said carefully, "your father is a Greek God, Lucienne."