𝐃𝐄𝐉𝐀 𝐕𝐔 • Percy Jackson.

06

act I━━━━
𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐗 • edited.

❝ I'm just protecting you.  ❞

         INAYAH SHAH WAS LIVID when her security guards disrupted her office with her son following behind. They moved out the way to reveal him here with frizzy black hair from sweat,  dirt and grime on his white collared shirt and blue blazer, and the stench of what smelled like smoke and rotting eggs.

She dismissed the guards that escorted him before rushing over, "What happened?! Why are you here?" She had shouted, guiding his son to a spare cream couch in her office. She didn't get a response. Her eye twitched at that and her nose wrinkled at the foul smell coming off of him.

She walked away from him muttering, "you're such a hassle I can't believe.."  With quick short clacks of her black heels, she went over to her white desk. Her white nails hovered over the black work telephone on her desk She took a deep breath, "Diya? I need any clothing we have that fits a young boy. Size twelve." She ordered. She took a glance at her son and wrinkled her nose, "grab any perfume too." She added.

When she came back she asked again, a little more calmer, but her voice still had anger.  She frowned when her son didn't say anything. "Amani. Why are you here...like this?" She repeated through gritted teeth. Amani lifted his head and moved his lips.

"The driver you sent was a weirdo." Inaya's head shot up along with her hand, "that does not mean you don't just go–" He interrupted, "--no he was tall and kept talking about how I smelled."  Inaya stopped. "what?" She muttered as a faint sense of dread began to find itself in her.  "Did he say anything else? You know how New York is–weirdos around every corner and the people…" She tried to reason, but her son objected. "He wanted to eat me or kidnap me or something." He said with a shrug.

His words told her everything she needed to know and with each sentence realization fell on her. She recalled a man's words, from years ago, and her second love's blood glinted. Old memories resurfaced. Liquid the color of pomegranate dripping as blessed kisses were exchanged with silver trickling from her eyes. And suddenly she felt as if a rock was lodged into her throat, choking her.

She took a breath. She let it out. She blinked, "Amani. Has this happened before?"  So he told her about Mrs Dodds, albeit a little vague, but she expected that. He can't remember very well…Should have expected that since then with the water. She shook her head. "Alright." She had whispered before a knock was heard. "President Shah, the things you asked for are here." Inaya stood up from her crouching position and allowed the secretary in.

"Thank you Diya." She spoke with a forced smile at the twenty-seven-year-old secretary. She smiled back before walking out to finish her work.  "We'll talk more after you take a shower." She pointed to her personal bathroom and Amani took the clothes and perfume. When Inaya heard the bathroom door click she collapsed onto the couch. With hands on her temple to calm the oncoming headache, she let out a shaky breath. Shit.

She swallowed the burning feeling in the back of her throat as she knew all the effort she had done: carefully wrapping her son in any sort of protection, to let them last a little longer together before he would be sent to a summer camp training to become a warrior so he could maybe, maybe last until 18. He said it could keep lasting if I just kept moving! I knew I should have just left this country. She complained in her head, but she knew she couldn't afford to leave the country now. Instead It would all slowly unravel starting from this moment onwards and she could only hope that once he found out about her selfishness, he could forgive her.

She clung onto that  hope like her lifeline.

--

          When Amani walked out the door he found his mother at her desk typing on her laptop. Something he had long grown accustomed to. "Amma?" He called out and she looked up, her face seemed to look better. He wore dark blue denim jeans–straight leg, black knit sweater with the yarn looking light weight, and his hair wet.