Surviving

Worse Than Hell

POV: Percy

"GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE! YOU DUMB PIECE OF SHIT!" 

Today was a pretty bad session. Note to self, chilled beer bottles do not feel good when they are thrown at you. Especially if they break. Now that's painful.

Oh shit, sorry, I'm not big on introduction. I'm Percy Jackson and the dude yelling at me to get the fuck out of "his" house is my stepdad. He doesn't like me much.

Ever since my mom.... Moved I have been his slave and personal punching bag rolled into one. Actually, I don't think you cut punching bags, so scratch that. I'm basically his anger relief thing. The point is he abuses me.

The thing with Gabe Ugliano, I know even his name makes him sound like and ass, is that he will tell me to leave and then get upset as to why I'm not home. Which is just another thing to add to the reasons why I don't want to live with him.

I can't fight back. Not because I'm not physically capable, I just can't.

When I was little he neglected me, but even that didn't last long. When I was a kid I used to wish he would play with me or even just notice me, but now I would do anything to be invisible again.

Eventually he started to order me around and shake me when I did something wrong. Later on, it became slapping and verbal abuse. Lucky for me he didn't hurt my mom.

She worked most of the time but when she did come home I would forget everything Gabe did to me. My mother can make me feel good just by walking in the room. No matter what Gabe did to me my mom could make me feel better.

Today he kicked me out and I had no place to go. I couldn't visit my mom and Grover was hanging out with Juniper. He's usually the one I go to if I'm in trouble. Luckily today was mostly bruises and a couple of cuts.

I walked to a McDonald's and cleaned up my wounds in the bathroom. Glamorous, right? Ha! Sorry, couldn't keep a straight face with that one. My life is many things, but glamorous is definitely not one of them.

I mean, if you were to look at me you wouldn't immediately think I live in my own personal hell with the devil, but I do. I like to carry myself in a way that can make people think I'm the richest man in the world. People think I have the perfect life. Most of my friends don't even know my real dad is dead.

I don't speak about my personal life to others other than Grover.

My real dad died when I was younger. He was in the navy and didn't come back from a mission, or something like that. My mom doesn't like to talk about him because it makes her too sad. All I know is he died a hero.

I know he did.

I wish he hadn't gone.  I don't remember much but I do remember us going up to our beach house in Montauk and going swimming, fishing, and any other water activities. We would spend the whole day in the water. That's why now I hate it. It reminds me to much of him.

When I was little my dad wanted me to become a swimmer. I used to have posters of swimmers and paraphernalia on my wall.

I know he would be disappointed to know that I quit swimming. I was pretty good, but whenever I would go in the water I would have some sort of panic attack or break down. I've learned to fight it a little considering how hot it gets in the summer, but I still don't like it very much. Maybe one day I can start swimming again, but not any time soon.

I had the perfect life. The best family. Until it all turned to shit. Life's a cold hearted bitch.

I bought a hash brown from McDonald's because I felt bad using their bathroom and not buying something. Even though I am completely, utterly broke and hate hash browns it was the cheapest thing on the menu.