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The funeral was horrible. I didn't remember most of it, but I know it was bad because I got grounded.

People kept coming to give their condolences. I didn't want them, and neither did my father, but he accepted them anyway, while also apologizing for my lack of social skills.

At one point, I was walking around the cemetery, away from the church where the body-Bianca's body-was being held until the funeral. I walked over the the center of the cemetery where a giant weeping willow sat. Right under it was a black headstone.

The stone was really shiny, and smooth. It was simple and elegant, just like my mother before she had died. It was fitting that the grave resembled her personality.

It was her grave, after all.

There was a small oval set in the stone, with a picture inside. The woman had dark, long hair, tan skin, and dark brown eyes. In yellow, curly letters under the picture, the name Maria Bianca di Angelo was carved. My mother had given Bianca her middle name. It was a small gift of a great love.

"I gave her my middle name,'' My mother told me once, "Because I can give her toys. I can give her jewelry. Those can all be lost, or broken. The name is permanent. She cannot lose it. She will always carry a piece of me wherever she goes."

It also had her date of birth and date of death. I remembered her death too well.

My father wouldn't let me forget it. He says it's my fault she died.

When I was about nine, and Bianca eleven, we were playing at the park, when I was accidentally pushed by a slightly older kid we had been playing with and broke my arm. I don't remember much about the kid, except that he had black hair and eyes that were this weird green color I had never seen before. They were beautiful.

Then he accidentally pushed me.

My mother drove to the hospital, Bianca and I in the backseat. Then a car came, hitting the driver's side of the car. My mother was killed instantly from a broken neck. Bianca and I miraculously escaped unscathed. My father still says that if I hadn't been clumsy and fell, my mother wouldn't have been driving until much later. She would have lived.

She might still be alive.

Despite the warm air, I shuddered. How ironic that my mother and Bianca both died in a car crash because of me? If I hadn't asked to meet at McDonald's, she wouldn't have been driving.

It's my fault again.

I felt tears well up behind my eyes and furiously rubbed them away. No. I can't cry.

Crying is weakness.

Suddenly, someone came up from behind, scaring me. I jumped and a small gasp came from my lips as I turned my body and fell, hitting my head on the headstone.

"Unnh." I managed. Sitting up, I felt the back of my head, where there was a small bit of blood. My gaze instantly turned to the headstone, where a bit of blood was now staining the edge.

"Oh, no, no, he's going to kill me. He's going to kill his only remaining family. Oh, no, no, no." I began using my tux sleeve to rub furiously at the blood. After a few seconds, it came off.

"Thank God." I muttered before standing up. Then I turned, and almost fell again.

I had somehow forgotten about the person who made me fall.

"Hey." He said quickly, grabbing my arm to keep me from falling. "Are you okay?"

I snatched my arm away. "I'm fine. Just your ordinary teen getting blood on their mother's grave. No big deal or anything."

His eyes widened just slightly.

"Oh my God, I am so sorry!" He said quickly.

"No, really, it's fine." I said.

We stood in silence after that, not sure what to say.

"Uh...why did you come?" I suddenly blurted. I wanted to smack myself. Why?

"Oh, uh, I needed to find you. To make sure you were okay." He stuttered.

I frowned.

"Do I know you?"

He took a deep breath before continuing. "My name is Percy Jackson. I accidentally hit your sister's car, watched you hyperventilate and almost die, and I think I broke your arm when we were little."

My eyes widened. I looked into his eyes for the first time. They were a beautiful green color. The color I had been dreaming about for years.

Then I remembered all the times my father hit me for breaking my arm. For killing my mother.

He killed Bianca.

I stared into his beautiful eyes as I punched him as hard as I could in his perfect nose.