Chapter 3

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

"Kyra?" a voice calls from the hall.

I sniffle and stare down at my arm. It was dark throughout most of the house. The only light I had bothered to turn on was the one in the living room. The sun had gone down long ago and moonlight poured through the kitchen windows. The knife was still on the floor beside me. I was sitting in the same spot I had been sitting for gods know how long.

"Ky?" the voice says, getting closer to the kitchen.

A dark silhouette appears in the kitchen archway and stops. I don't even bother to look up to see who it was. I already knew.

"Kyra." Nico gasps, seeing the blood.

He hurries forward and kneels down, wrapping his arms around me. I bury my face in his chest and cry my heart out. My arm rubs up against my jeans and I pull out of Nico's embrace, screaming and holding my arm tightly, new blood quickly coming to the surface of the cuts.

"Kyra, what did you do?" Nico asks, bewildered and wide eyed.

"She called me a disgrace. I couldn't handle it anymore." I say, in between sobs.

He reaches into his back-pack and pulls out a water bottle full of nectar.

"Give me your arm." he says, a little sternly, holding out his hand.

I place my arm in his hand. He takes it gently and opens the bottle, pouring nectar all over it. It stings for a second before sweet relief washes over me. I sigh and lean against the counter as Nico puts the bottle back in his bag.

"I guess she's gotten worse, huh?" he says after a while.

"Yea." I hold out my arms and show him the bruises in the dim moonlight.

"You can go back to camp if you want. Or even come to the Underworld with me. Persephone is still jealous that she didn't get to meet you last summer." he says, a sort of pleading in his dark eyes.

I shake my head. "As much as I want to, I can't. I can't just leave her."

"What about John? Can't he come check up on her?" he tries again.

I snort. "John could care less about me or mom. The attitude he shows about her states that, in his mind, she's already gone. He thinks it's a hopeless cause now that Lucas left." I say, feeling new tears trying to escape.

He takes my hands, gently, and looks at me, studying my face so closely that he was starting to freak me out. I was used to him staring at me. I stared at him too. But he usually didn't look at me like this. Like he was memorizing every crease, every dimple, every eyelash and every dark green speck dotting my irises.

"Nico. What is it?" I ask.

"You know last summer when you tackled me in the woods, trying to stop me from going to the Underworld to find Lucas?" he asks.

"Yea." I say, not knowing where this was going.

"And do you remember me asking you if you knew what it was like to watch someone sink into the depths of depression? How that person can become so broken, you can't fix them?" he says.

"Yes. I remember. Where is this going Nico?" I ask, getting a little impatient.

"It's taken you again. The depression. So, we either find a way to make your mother herself again or you go back to camp or come with me to the Underworld." he says.

I let out a huff and balance my chin in my hand. What would be the best thing to do? Save my mother or save myself?

"If I could have saved her, I would have done it a long time ago." I say, looking down at the bloody knife.

"Ok. I'll leave." I say.

I don't know how long we had been sitting in the kitchen. It could have been minutes or hours. I had been battling on what to do. Whether I should leave or try and help my mother. I had made my decision.

"What?" Nico asks, looking at me.

"I'll leave. I don't want to stay here anymore." I say.

"Ok. You want to pack some things?" he asks, standing up and holding out a hand for me.

I take his hand and say, "Yea. Come on upstairs with me."

We go down the hall and up the cherry wood stairs. We reach my bedroom and I open the door. It creeks open and I flip the switch. It looked just as it had this morning. My pajamas thrown on the floor and a few pairs of shoes scattered by the walk-in closet.

I walk over to my closet and take out my huge, army style duffle bag. I set it on my bed then walk over to my dresser. I pull out my favorite shirts and jeans first, among other clothes, until I couldn't hold anymore in my arms.

I go back over to the bed and roll my clothes, lining them up neatly in my bag. I repeat the process a few times until the duffle is two thirds of the way full. My dresser was just about empty. All that was left were the old clothes that didn't fit anymore or the clothes I didn't like.

With the remaining space, I had managed to fit a pair of TOMS and my gladiator sandals, my toiletries, all the stuff I needed for my hair, all my makeup, a couple of dresses from my closet, my burgundy aviator jacket, my light brown leather jacket, and some jewelry I couldn't bare to part with. It was extremely hard to zip it but, I got it done.

I turned around and saw my back-pack that Nico had given me for my birthday last summer. I open it up and snatch my wallet out. I peek inside to see twenty bucks and some change. I make sure my charger and ear-buds are in there, as well as my sharpies. I hardly ever leave the house without either one. I make sure I have my dagger then I close up my pack and look around my room, seeing if there was anything else I needed.

My eyes scan over the light green walls and the cherry wood floor. There were so many memories in this room. Good and bad. There was the time when John read me a bedtime story when I was six. Mom and Lucas had been out on a date that night. Then there was the time when I had spent the whole day, locked in my room, crying because my grandmother had passed away. Like I said, good and bad memories.

Nothing caught my eye so I nodded at Nico. He heaved up my heavy duffle and opened the door for me. I grab my dark gray, zip-up hoodie from it's peg and sling my back-pack over my shoulder. I flip the switch and go down the stairs.

Before we leave, I go and grab all the cash from the family money jar (though recently it had become my mother's alcohol and cigarette money stash) in the kitchen and raid my mother's wallet. I came up with about three hundred bucks.

I glance at the half-chopped head of lettuce on the counter and the ruby red drops of blood on the floor and the bloody knife. I decide to leave it.

I walk to the foyer where Nico was waiting and open the front door. Nico walks out and I turn the lock on the door. I close it behind me and don't look back.

A/N:

Well, here's your surprise update guys! What do you think about Kyra running away? Where do you think Nico will take her? What do you think John and Michelle's reaction will be when they find her gone? All will be answered soon...

I swear, all this traveling back and forth is killing me... Not literally but y'know what I mean. Before we got to our hotel last night, I saw two hobos sitting under one of those covered bus stops and they must have been best buddies 'cause they were fist bumping! I almost started laughing like crazy because my best friend has this ongoing obsession with hobos for some reason and it made me think of her.

Till Saturday,

Mrs-diAngelo25