There are no stones at my disposal

There's no God to award me a crown

But I am always swinging at

Somebody, I can't knock down

—TAKE ME TO WAR, THE CRANE WIVES

"You see, one loves the sunset when one is so sad."

― Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince

TRIGGERS FOR:

Internalised Homophobia

Discussions of mental health.

Panic Attacks.

Detailed Migraines.

Depressional Attacks.

Trauma Flashbacks

Mentions of Abuse

Mentions of Neglect

The one atrocity that others do not speak of, Is Loneliness.

Surrounding each surface of the realm, consuming you like a predator's prey.

It infects like a plague and disappears like hay fever, all in months–or years at a time. The majority of the days, you seem to sit on a big pedestal, which tilts and quivers when you stand; This is far from the life up on the surface than down here.

The Underworld–anyone can call this place home, But those who choose to stay, must face the consequences. They must stay in the shadows, negotiating with the past and those who are unlucky. You could stay here for eternity, keeping your soul clean—and being far from the souls of the damned.

You can just imagine the stimuli here.

But like recently said–It's lonely, very– lonely.

There's your father, but he's occupied with paperwork and meeting gods from all around. There's your stepmom, but she's helping your father with the paperwork mentioned. There are the servants, but unfortunately, they are like hawks-eyes in the storm. One wrong step or move, and it's a word from said–King.

Sitting on a throne alone, with nobody to judge or castigate my decision, in a dark hallway. My elbow is propped up on the arm of the elevated chair. I feel no warmth in this place.

I looked up at the plafond, My chin lifted and my hair shifted to the side of my cheek. Obsidian and Bronze fill the higher form, dark, but beautiful in its way.

At that moment, I was certain that I saw a glimmer of light.

I was fooling myself, I suppose.

"My Prince," A woman called out that term in fondness–I am far from a prince, Just call me Nico– Was lodged in my throat–I knew she wouldn't call me that.

She was holding one of the finer silks that my Step-Mother, The queen–Had brought for me to wear; It was the same color as the obsidian walls and the blackened doors that led to my room, the silk gave it a silver gloss in the glow of the shallow, dim lighted space.

I looked at the clothes, then at her–

"What's wrong with these clothes? "I replied to her advances, The Thing is–wearing a black oversized shirt, and skinny jeans aren't preferably 'formal' for a future heir of wealth, aristocracy and leadership.

That had to be the biggest understatement of my life.

She glared at me, and a scowl at the clothes I was wearing, Her look translating to: You aren't kidding, are you?

And she examined me up and down like I was a madman hollering heresies.

"My Prince," She said, In a small voice, positioning the outfit up to conceal her mouth "you do acknowledge there will be guests tonight–at dinner, Yes?"

I felt my heart thump in my chest.

My mind was reeling at how this could be: Guests? Me–Invited? This must be some sick joke, right? There's not a single possibility that my dad could let me see another person, let alone interact!

Nobody would ask me to dance, so he'd probably have me as a prize poodle, or just to stand there with–Instead of a red plastic cup, I'd have a fancy wine glass.

I darted my eyes at the assistant with horror–I shook my head frantically and wildly, while she nodded hers softly and slowly.

She looked at me with a sense of understanding. "My dearest apologies, my Prince, I know how you heavily dread these torturous events–" She stated with an acknowledging tone–The worst part is? She was not wrong, "But your–The king demands you to–"

"Please give my father my dearest sincerity," I raged from my mind and beyond, "For I am not attending that damn party."

She was silent.

As she spoke, her voice broke with urgency. "You must," she insisted. "The good people of Olympus will be there and–!" I furrowed my brow, feeling defensive, and crossed my arms. It seemed strangely important to act tough before her, despite being just an inch shorter.

"I have made my decision," I stated firmly, my voice unwavering. "There is no way I am going to that party. I refuse to attend, not with my father, stepmother, now, or ever."

Before I realized it, I was out in the hallway-the door "Slam!" shut behind me.

I was on my own now.

From so far, I could hear the sobs of the damned.