2- Family

My head hurt. Why did my head hurt?

I opened my eyes, and found them both working. Weird, wasn't one of them shot? I saw nothing but darkness surrounding me, and I realized, my feet weren't on the floor. Oddly, I was suspended midair, held up and balanced by cables attached to my torso. Quickly, reaching both my hands up, I tore them off me, only to drop a few feet down and land flat on my face.

The sound of rushed footsteps came from somewhere in the distance as I propped myself up with my arms. The action felt wrong, it felt too stiff.

"Hey!" The sound of a door opening made me turn my head, which made my vision sway and swim. "Oh damn it Jo get out of the way!"

"Hold on I gotta check his-"

Their talking faded into the background. With the door opened, light was able to flow into the room and illuminate me and my surroundings. The room around me seemed intricate and beautiful, filled by workbenches, tools, and metals, but I wasn't paying attention to any of that. Instead, my eyes locked onto the arm propping me up. The arm I had cut off.

It was clunky. Clunky and shiny. It felt cold as I brushed his fingers over it. Metal. It was cold, hard, metal.

–

I walked through the rest of the day in a daze. The two old women had introduced themselves as Emmie and Jo and said they were in some big building called the Waystation. They had found me passed out in front of the Waystation, arm missing and face mangled, and brought me in. Somehow, Jo had managed to give me metal replacements for any missing parts, like some cyborg from a TV show.

For the first time since I woke up, I spoke, my voice raspy and unused, "H-How did you save me?"

Emmie looked at me with a furrowed brow. "Well, ambrosia and nectar. A lot. Took a while though, you were out for weeks."

"Ambrosia? Nectar?"

"Yes," Emmie said, "You know, uh, the stuff demigods use." She looked at me expectantly, like I should understand.

I shifted on the couch I sat on. "Demigod?" I muttered.

"Damn," Jo muttered, "Emmie, dear, I'll explain to him." She focused her dark eyes on me, locking me in place with her words. "Son," she started, "one of your parents is a god."

I found myself speechless. My mother, she really was a god. And she had ignored me. Did she not love me?

–

I glared into the mirror. I'd been living at the Waystation for nearly a week. I'd eaten with Emmie and Jo, I'd gone shopping with them, even gone to a park, but I'd never seen my own face. I tried ignoring it, but every time I looked down at my left arm I was reminded of it. Today was the day I finally found out.

I was hideous.

The entire right side of my face was made up of metal plating, and when I ran my fingers over the surface, I could feel the tops of screws jutting out, the ridges of plating meeting each other, and the spots where the metal had been welded together.

Oddly, I could feel. When I touched my face, there was an electrical tingle running through my face, almost like it was real skin.

When I opened my mouth, I could see how Jo had fixed it. It had metal teeth, but no lips. I only had half my tongue, and when I pressed it to the right side of my mouth, I could feel the warm metal. It looked wrong. It felt wrong.

The most odd part, however, was my eye. It worked just as well as my eyes had before, but it felt unnatural, lifeless. In place of a normal, fleshy eye covered by an eyelid, topped with an eyebrow, there was a round sphere of metal with a dot in the middle that I assumed acted as my pupil. There was no eyelid, no eyebrow, just an eye half embedded into the metal plating of my face.

My face. It looked lopsided and robotic. None of the features of my normal side translated over to my right side. It looked like an amateur artist had tried to give me facial features, but it all looked wrong. My cheekbones were at the wrong height, they jutted out too far, and my nice chin was just a smooth, flat plate. My nose, oddly, was completely flesh, apparently unchanged.

I remembered the girls at school saying I looked beautiful. My aunts telling me I looked pretty. Even some bolder boys telling me I looked good.

What would they think now if they saw me? I was ugly. I was disgusting.

Glass shattered as I slammed my hand onto the reflection of my own face. Shards scattered across the room, but none pierced the metal hand.

–

One day, two weeks after I awoke, Emmie asked me a question at dinner, "How would you feel about going to school?"

I could see Jo worriedly whisper in her ear, "I thought we were gonna wait!"

I reached a hand up to my face and ran it over the cool metal. "Why?" I quietly asked.

Seemingly prepared for the question, Emmie answered, ignoring the worried glace Jo sent me. "Well, it would be good to socialize, plus, you're a little boy, you need to go to school." I looked down at my plate. Emmie smiled and continued, "Don't wanna be stupid do ya'?" I smiled at that, it made me feel a bit better.

–

"New kid's got a scar."

"I hear he got in a fight with a bear."

"Nah it was with a mugger."

"No I hear he is the mugger."

"Yeah, he looks like it."

I sat in the back of the class, scribbling at the math work I had been handed. I didn't understand any of it. But I would rather stare and dissect the problems like they would explain themselves to me than try to talk to the other kids. I could hear their gossip. They were talking about me, how ugly I was, how I must be violent.

What the Hades did rise over run mean?

I raised my hand, trying to catch the teacher's attention, but was met by his untrusting gaze.

I wanted to go home. I wanted to go back and go walk in the park with Emmie, or make stupid contraptions that never worked in Jo's workshop. I hated it here.

–

When I got home, I didn't utter a word about the other kids to Emmie or Jo. They asked how it had been, if I had made friends and how my teachers were. I lied, and made them think the kids thought my face was just unique, and that it was really cool, and that my teachers were super helpful and nice. They smiled at me, and I felt my gut churn.

–

On the day of my thirteenth birthday, November fourteenth, I told them all my friends had just been really busy, and they couldn't make it. They had hugged me, and told me they would always love me, it made me feel better.

On the anniversary of my family's death, June thirteenth, they tried to spend with me. I screamed at them, telling them to leave me alone. It had been the first time I lashed out at them, and it felt horrible. They left me alone the whole day, and I can't tell if I cried because of the death of my family, or the fact they had listened to me.

The day seventh grade ended, they wanted me to invite my friends to a park so we could hang out, and they would get snacks. I denied, and when they kept asking why and insisting, I snapped, screaming at them to leave me alone. They did, why did they leave me?

When school started again, I stayed quiet, trying my best to get high grades without talking to my teachers or other students, eating alone at lunch, and not making any friends. Every day as I walked home, I'd smile, thinking of Emmie and Jo, and they'd welcome me home, mirroring my smile.

On my fourteenth birthday, they hovered around me, seemingly unsure if I wanted their company, or to be left alone. I spent the whole day with them, happy they didn't leave me.

—

My eyes burned as tears leaked down my cheeks.

They were laughing, they were all laughing at me. Pointing and staring and laughing and laughing and laughing and laughing-

I had slipped on some stupid piece of paper and they were laughing at me. Scrambling to my feet and completely abandoning my backpack, I ran. I sprinted down the hallways, shoving past teachers and kids until I reached the front doors, which I slammed open and ran through.

Sitting under a tree, I sobbed. Why didn't the kids like me? Why didn't teachers like me? Why do they look at me like that? Why doesn't anyone like me?

Why doesn't my mother love me?

As I cried, a group of kids walked out of the school and started walking towards me, snickering and making mocking faces.

"Hey! Scarface!" The biggest one, a bully named Ryan, held out my backpack, dangling it in front of me. "You always seem so dark and scary, guess you're just a bitch though." His friends snickered, and I shoved my fist in my mouth, trying to stifle my sobs. "It was funny, seeing you cry so much. You're so emotional."

I didn't know what to say, or if I was even supposed to say anything, so I stayed quiet, trying to reel in my sobs.

"Y'know," some skinny boy with a long face started, "I hear, he got the scars from a wolf attack. And," a smile started creeping onto his face, "you know how nobody has ever seen his parents right?" He got a collective nod from the group, and a few gasps, "If you use some context clues, his family got kill-"

–

I don't know what happened. I was kneeling, kneeling by somebody. I was kneeling next to the body of a girl, someone had beaten her up, really, really bad. Her nose was nearly sideways, her eye was swollen shut, and her lip was completely busted.

As I looked around, I found four more bodies around me in the same condition. Three boys and another girl.

Then I remembered what had happened. I had been angry, really angry. My first thought was about what Emmie and Jo would think. I think they'd be disappointed.

I didn't think I could handle that. So I ran. I ran, my shoes slamming against the pavement, pushing past pedestrians, and slamming into people when I turned corners. I ran until I found a forest, probably miles from the school.

I curled up against a tree and cried. I didn't want them to hate me.

–

By the time I got home, nearly sunset, I was crushed in a hug by Emmie and Jo. Then scolded me for nearly an hour. It all passed me by, something about the school calling, angry parents, broken noses, and staying out late.

"You can't just do that!"

"So impulsive!"

"Why would you even do that?"

"We worry about you!"

"You can't just act out because of your emotions!"

"No!" I screamed, "That doesn't make sense!"

They halted, looking at me with worry.

"If I'm not acting on my emotions then I'm not doing anything!" I screamed at them, "The only reason I got out of that forest is because I made myself get up! Because I was angry! Because of my emotions!"

They didn't say anything, and that hurt worse than any scolding they could have given me.

–

"Liko Hoang, please come to the principal's office. Liko Hoang, please come to the principal's office." I forced myself away from my seat and down the hall as the P.A. blared my name out.

Arriving in the office, I met the principal, Mr. Smith, a man with a face too short in comparison to his oddly long arms, and a stomach that bulged out in a weird way.

"Well, Liko," he gestured across his desk, to a small plastic chair, "Take a seat."

I did as Smith said, fidgeting and squirming under the man's gaze.

"I don't know why, but I just couldn't see it before." The man inspected me, with piercing gold eyes that never seemed to blink. "We'll come soon, just giving you a heads up." His tone was polite and nearly blank, and I bewilderedly stared at him, waiting for him to elaborate. "You can go." He said, shooing me out of his office.

–

It was tense at home. I tried speaking with Emmie, but it would always stagnate somewhere. I tried to join Jo in her workshop, but it always made the air awkward. I tried to sit in my room and read a book, but the letters would scramble and organize themselves in a way that made it impossible to read.

Somewhere in the depths of the Waystation, I heard a knock at the door. Was it the principal coming to tell Emmie and Jo that he was going to expel me?

I crept down the hallway as Emmie answered the door and peeked around the corner. Sure enough, it was Mr. Smith.

Emmie greeted him, but he didn't respond. His blank, green (no, they seemed brownish?) eyes stared through her.

"Excuse me? What-"

Emmie was cut short as Smith interrupted her. "Hello! We will be entering soon!"

Emmie recoiled, "What the Hades are you-"

Once again, Smith cut her off, this time, by tackling her. Emmie quickly pushed him back and landed a quick punch to his face, only to gasp in pain. "Gods!"

I watched, as a sound of creaking metal came from Smith's head, then, it promptly fell off. It rolled across the floor like a tin can, stopping with a thud! as it hit the wall.

"Thank you!" I nearly jumped as Smith continued speaking, "That pesky thing gets stifling!" With ease, he ripped off his shirt, displaying an ugly face where his chest should have been. His large nose dangled over lips too bulging to be normal, and where his nipples should have been, were eyes the size of hands, topped by thin eyebrows.

Emmie punched him square in the nose, creating a satisfying crunch! "Damned blemmyae!"

There was a knock on the already-opened door, followed by the polite question of, "May we come in?"

"No!" Emmie yelled.

"Yes please!" Smith yelled back.

"Okily dokily!" Slowly, dozens of "blemmyae" began filing in, hands neatly folded in front of themselves and ugly chest-faces on full display.

Slowly inching away, Emmie called out for Jo, who quickly appeared from a hallway.

"Shit, blemmyae?" She asked, pulling out a pair of brass knuckles out of her pockets.

"Yeah, do you know where Liko is?" Emmie asked as she held out a hand, like she was expecting to be handed something. When she was met with Jo shaking her head, she very loudly called out for him. "Liko! Get to your room, somewhere safe!" A crossbow Jo had somehow produced was placed in her hand, along with a sling of arrows.

Monsters. These were monsters. In my house. I ran, ran down the halls until I got to my room. I dug through my drawers, tossing clothes and anything else to the floor until I saw the glint of metal.

The knife my father had given me. The knife I had used to saw my own arm off. I grabbed it and dashed back to the entrance.

I didn't see Emmie or Jo, but with the sound of bones crunching and blemmyae screaming, I knew they were somewhere in the crowd of the headless monsters. I wasted no time, and leaped onto the back of a blemmyae in the back of the crowd. Digging my blade into the area its head should have connected to its neck and slashing downwards only left a light gash, which healed quickly. With no effort, it clocked me in the head, sending me slamming into the wall of the halls and sliding down to the ground.

They were doing this in my house. To my family. I heard the sound of Jo crying out in pain, and digging my fingers into the wall, forced myself to my feet. I screamed, and messily swiped my knife at the blemmyae, catching it in the eye and sending it tumbling back. I went for another swipe, and another and another until it finally collapsed and disintegrated into gold dust.

I went to the next, and the next, and the next, messily swiping and chopping off limbs. I was barely thinking, just acting off of anger and instinct, but it worked.

Until it didn't. As I was fighting the blemmyae I think was Mr. Smith, I swiped across his nose, but instead of backing up or dying, he rammed his fist into my exposed gut as I was still moving with the momentum of my swing, my arm outstretched and useless to defend. Soon, I was the one being hit. Again, and again, and again. I heard something crunch, something snap, then, the last thing I saw was a boot flying towards my face.

–

There was sunlight splayed across my face. It felt good. Nice, warm and comforting. Like I was on the beach of a lake my father had once taken me to. I lay there for a while, until my back began to feel uncomfortable.

That was when I realized I wasn't on a beach. The surface under me wasn't soft sand. The sound invading my ears wasn't the calm waves on a lake. I was on the floor. In the middle of the sidewalk.

I opened my eyes, and realized how much my body hurt. My eyes hurt, and the flesh one was swollen shut. My nose was broken for sure. Something in my right arm felt wrong, like it had been crushed under a hundred pounds.

I was in the city. Emmie had taken me here once, I recognized the store next to me, and the tree a few feet in front of me. The smell was the same too, the scent of cigarettes and delicious, freshly baked bread from the bakery I knew was barely a street away.

I stood up, and winced at the pressure on my ankle. Storm clouds were rolling in, I should get home soon.

As I walked through the streets, I worried for what happened to Emmie and Jo, I had no doubts they were okay, they would never go down to some weak monsters like that.

I arrived in the plaza where the Waystation was located just as rain began sprinkling.

Knock Knock!

I waited. That was weird, it would normally open after fourteen seconds.

Knock Knock!

"Emmie? Jo?" I called.

Knock Knock!

There! I could hear the sound of shuffling behind the door. A smile spread across my face as a drop of water hit my nose. "Emmie!" I could tell whose footsteps those were. "It's starting to rain! Open the door please!"

No response.

"Emmie?" I asked, my smile wavering.

There was a beat of silence before a shaky response came from behind the door. "Liko," she said, seemingly choking on her words, "Liko, we- we've decided that-" She hiccuped.

"Hah ha, y-you need me to scare that out of you?" I asked, and for some reason, my tongue seemed to tremble.

"Liko." She called out. "You can't stay here."

Rain poured down on me, bouncing off my metal face and drenching my hair. "G-Good one! Seriously Emmie, cou- could you let me in though? It's getting really c-"

"Liko." She said, and I couldn't see her, but that was in her, "I'm trying not to cry" voice. "Liko I'm not joking."

I stated at the door, soaking wet. "What- What do you mean?"

"Jo's missing an arm!" She exclaimed. "I'm down four fingers! And the house is trashed!"

"Gods! L-Let me in, I need to see her!"

She didn't respond, I could tell she was taking in deep breaths, trying not to cry. "Liko, one of them said he worked at your school. It was you. You got too emotional, they were able to sense your demigod aura."

"E-Emmie I-"

"No! He-" she took in a breath, "He said you didn't have any friends. He said you're quiet and antisocial. That you get bullied."

I felt my jaw lock up, a sour taste building in my mouth.

"Liko, baby, why did you lie to us?"

I couldn't respond, no answer I could think of would be a good answer.

"I love you Liko. But I need to put Jo first and-" I could hear her sob through the door, "And I can't have you both! It's too dangerous! You're too dangerous!"

"M- Emmie please, I-"

"No! Go!" She yelled, her voice cracking.

A weak noise escaped me. My whole body was trembling. My eyes were burning, letting out tears that blended in with the rain falling on my face. My mouth had a sour, horrible taste in it that spread down to my throat, leaving me unable to talk. Even my nose was quivering.

"Mo-"

I could hear her run away. Leaving me alone, standing in front of a cold, unfeeling door.

"Mom?" I asked, my words disappearing into the air. My fists slammed into the door as I screamed and sobbed, whimpers and cries escaping me. "Mom! Please! Please, Mommy!" I pathetically crumbled to my knees, desperately clawing at the door. "Please don't leave me Mommy!"

–

AN- I know like one person is gonna read this but Haiiii :333

-Sad chapter D: its not gonna get happier :3

- Emmie, Jo, and the waystation are from the Trials of Apollo Series, not just some random ass Ocs I made up.

-Bye love you :DDD