Who the hell thought making me a Half-blood was a good idea? {ON HOLD}

Act Two- Maybe I shouldn't have ditched Grover

Disclaimer: The world of Percy Jackson, its characters and settings are the copyrighted works of Rick Riordan and his publishing companies and affiliates. No profit was made from the writing of this story nor was any malice intended in any way, shape or form to the author or the actors/actresses who so brilliantly have brought them to life.This author is not responsible for underage readers. Please observe the ratings, warnings, and age of legal consent for your country.

Trigger Warning: Child Abuse mention

Grover woke me up when we got to the bus terminal. "This is it, yeah?" I said groggily. "Thanks, G-man."

I was planning on getting to Mãe as quickly as humanly possible, but Grover-the-protector was on duty and he wasn't taking no for an answer. He insisted on walking me home while using my panic attacks as an excuse, and when I tried to protest he simply didn't listen. Frustrated, I ditched when he went to use the bathroom. Sorry G-man, but I want one last day with Mãe before I have to give up my normal life.

Flagging down the first taxi I saw was that heading upstate, I grabbed my suitcase and told the driver, "East One-hundred-and-fourth and First." He nodded in reply and hit the pedal.

Leaning back in my seat, I sag minutely. Just a few more minutes and I get to have a hug from Mãe. I put my headphones in. They're not playing any music, but it muffles the busy sound of Manhattan. Absent-mindedly I start humming and mumbling, "We're lost in the woods, somewhere in New Jersey, and we're never ever gonna make it to LA. We're lost, and it's cold, and it won't stop raining, Oh no, not that way!"

It's ridiculous how much of my past life's music I can remember; watch me remember Doja Cat's 'Say So' perfectly but not the fact I have homework due tomorrow.

Drifting away from the present into my own little weird thought corner, I longed for my Mãe. Sally Jackson was an amazing mother, not flawless, but much better than my absentee past life's parents who worked more than cared about their children. Mãe works a lot too with two jobs trying to keep the family afloat, but she still took time to talk to me about my day and never tried to invalidate my feelings or my mental health issues. She loved me even though I knew I wasn't the daughter she deserved, so I loved her with the force of an untamed sea. Freely, unabashedly, with all my might and then some.

The day that Smelly Gabe told me there was no such thing as blue food is, ironically, one of my fondest memories. Mãe gave him the classic, "Is that so?" and began making the most iconic retaliation I've ever seen. She's a powerful woman and absolutely deserves to be a queen. Actually no, she deserves to be THE Queen. It's now a common Sunday ritual; Blue cookies, pink milk, and cuddling while watching family movies. Well, I cuddle. I'm affectionate, sue me.

I spot a 'Road Work Ahead' sign and I can't stop myself from saying out loud, "Well yeah, I sure hope it does," causing the taxi driver to glance back at me. Oops.

-

We don't arrive at the apartment soon enough. Walking in, I saw fucking Smelly Gabe sitting on the living room couch, ESPN on the TV blaring louder than a jet engine while playing poker with his little buddies. There were chips on the floor, along with three empty beer cans and a large stain that I'm guessing is from a not-so-empty beer can. Fucking disgusting.

He didn't even look up from his cards, "So you're home."

"Where's Mãe?"

"Working," he took a puff of his cigar, "You got any cash?"

Gabriel, or Smelly Gabe, had put on even more weight. I haven't seen him since my hospital stint where he complained that I had cost him unnecessary money for my 'attention-seeking crying fit.' I hated spending those two weeks off school with him in the house, he just used me like a fucking punching bag. At least he never drew blood. If he did that, well, while I may think that 'Fuck the Police' is a good motto in life, dialling 911 would've been the least of what I'd have done.