Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own the PJ or HoO series by Rick Riodan.

Work was torture, as usual. I worked at the Company and Noodles in downtown. I despised working here. I came home everyday smelling like food, there was a ton of drama, and it was low wages. Not my ideal job.

A lady walks up to the register, breaking me out of my thoughts for a moment. I plaster a fake smile on my face and get ready to take her order.

"May I take your order, ma'am?" I ask, chipper.

"Yes. Can I get the penne rosa? With fetta cheese and the chicken." she says, peering at the menu board.

Whenever a costumer asks, "can I have" instead of "may I have", I always want to say, "No you fucking can't! We're fucking out of it!". Of course, I can't do that. I'd get fired if I did that.

"Yes, ma'am." I say, ringing up her order, as well as the bottle of water she had picked up.

She hands me her debit card and I swipe it. I hand it back to her, with her receipt, and she walks away with her number card.

I sigh and rest my head on the counter. I just wanted to leave and never have to walk into this damn restaurant ever again. I was sick of smelling pasta and cheese and also the short-tempered costumers we got sometimes.

"Excuse me." says a familiar voice.

I look up and see Mo. My face breaks into a grin (a real one this time) and I reach over the counter and give him a hug.

"I've missed you so much! You wouldn't believe how bad it is at home." I say.

"You can tell me all about it after you get off work. I'm gonna swing by the studio to see Anne Marie but I'll be back over here when you get off." he says.

"Ok. I'll see you in a bit." I say, brightening at the thought of spending some time with Mo.

When I walk out the door at eight o'clock, Mo was sitting in one of the patio chairs. He stands up and swings an arm around my shoulder. We start walking towards the dock, where there was a musician playing "Meant to Live" by Switchfoot.

We sit down on a bench and Mo starts telling me about Peru. He said it was wonderful there and he loved every minute of it. Apparently, his step-father, Joshua, owns a house there. I told you, the guy's loaded.

"Enough about Peru. What's going on at home, Ky?" he asks.

I sigh. I was really enjoying hearing about his adventures in Peru.

"She's hammered practically everyday. And when she's not, she's out at bars hooking up with other drunks." I say, gazing at the water.

Mo puts his head in his hands. "Ky, I wish there was something I could do. Has John done anything?" he asks, glancing at me.

"No." I say, bitterly.

"He thinks all this is my fault. He'll barely talk to me now." I say, my voice cracking.

"Ky." Mo says, wrapping me in one of his hugs that pretty much always makes me feel better. Today, it didn't.

"And Nico's been gone for the past two weeks. Hades called him down to the Underworld for some so called "crisis". Lucas hasn't even called." I say, trying to hold back the tears.

Mo has nothing left to say so we just sit there and watch the sun set, turning the water brilliant colors.

I walked into the house. It was dark and smelled like cigarette smoke and vodka. Not a good sign. I head towards the living room.

I find my mom sprawled on the couch, nearly unconscious. The ashtray on the coffee table is full and there's two empty vodka bottles on the floor. There's a partial bottle in her hand.

I go over and try to take it out of her hand. She becomes ridged and her bloodshot eyes snap open. She turns her head towards me, an ugly sneer on her face.

She throws the bottle at me. I duck just in time. It hits the wall behind me instead and shatters. I look behind me to see glass littering the floor and the wall splashed with the putrid drink. If it hadn't been for my ADHD and training, I would have been knocked out.

I get back on me feet, angry now. I yank my mother off the couch and she groans. I practically drag her out of the living room and down the hall, towards her bedroom.

About half-way there, she regained a bit of her consciousness and started to protest. She started to kick and try to wiggle out of my strong grasp. It didn't work.

I finally got to the door and kicked it open. Eventually, I got her to settle back down and into the bed. Before she closes her eyes she looks at me.

"You are a disgrace. I wish you had never been born." she spits.

Her head lolls to the side and she's knocked out. I know that the words had been the alcohol speaking but they stung all the same.

I have to hold myself back from slamming the bedroom door. I close it quietly, though I'm guessing not much could wake her up, and head to the kitchen.

I open up the refrigerator and take out a head of lettuce. I grab a knife from the block and begin cutting up a small salad. I hadn't eaten anything since breakfast this morning and I was starving.

I nick my finger while cutting and jerk my hand back, dropping the knife onto the rosy colored granite counter. I stare at the scarlet blood running down my pointer finger. I glance at the knife on the counter and pick it up.

Then I do something so unlike me, even the thought of it had never entered my mind. I cut myself. A short and shallow slash on my left forearm. I gasp, hot tears instantly running down my cheeks and blurring my vision.

I watch the blood drip off my arm with fascination. For some reason, the pain was satisfactory. It was like all the hurt I had been living with for the past year was just dripping off my arm and out of me. I almost felt like I deserved it. John had made me feel like I deserved this agony with all the withering glares I got from him.

So, I do it again. And again. The ruby colored liquid splattered on the counter and floor. The tears were so hot, they felt like they were burning trails into my cheeks.

Eventually, I feel a little lightheaded and drop the blood coated knife with a clang to the white tiled floor. I slide down onto the floor and rock back and forth, cradling my cut up and bloodied arm.

A/N:

Longish chapter. Did you guys like it? Did anyone see that coming? This is probably the most depressing chapter I've written so far in this story.

If anyone is wondering, I'm updating a little early because I'll be on the road tomorrow. Six hours in the car... I think I just might die! Last time it was only three and I nearly went crazy being in there for that short of a trip. Ugg!

So I'm thinking about getting my cartilage pierced and was wondering if any of you guys have had yours done. If so, does it hurt really bad? I asked my friend and she said it hurt really really bad then I asked my cousin and she said it didn't hurt at all..

XOXO,

Mrs-diAngelo25

P.S.

If I'm feeling generous this week, I might just do a surprise update! :)