¹POCKET FULL OF POSIES. p. jackson

vi. Engraved Grudges

chapter six
❛ engraved grudges ❜

━━━━━  IT WAS ALL Apollo's fault.

              Sort of.

              Okay, not really. But if Josephine squinted at it just the right way, it was his fault!

              She always tried to look for the good in any and all situations. She tried to counter-act the constant pessimist thoughts and feelings, and to try and make herself feel better about her many shortcomings. (And add onto the list: the mean, cruel voice that liked to whisper like a devil on her shoulder about all her shortcomings. But that was hard to counter-act with simply positive thoughts.) However, that being said, it really was nice to know there was a reason for all her shortcomings and crappy predicaments — Apollo, God of the Sun. Josephine could easily blame him for all the wrongs in her life.

              And she did.

              Sure, Apollo hadn't been the one to cause the explosion on the bus, but it led back to him in a long, confusing, twisting way of fate. If he had never sent Josephine to Beau Pascual on April 13th, 1994 in a cradle made of gold — well, Josephine would never been in the mess she is today. In some odd, strange way, it was nice to know there were Greek gods out there because then, she had someone to blame when things started to go wrong (really wrong, that is). For instance, when a Greyhound bus has just been attacked by three monster hags and blown up by lightning — and it's raining on top of everything else. Most people would just think it's just really bad luck had really been on their side; however, being a half-blood, Josephine knew better. She knew that some divine forces were really trying to mess with her day. (As if receiving the news she would be forced to go on a quest that morning and shipped off that afternoon wasn't already a day-ruiner before.)

              It also was Josephine's incredibly horrible bad luck — but she also blamed that all on her father, Apollo. Perhaps it wasn't fair, but the Sun God had become her scapegoat. If he hadn't created her from the mortal genuity of Beau Pascual and the godly genuity of himself, Josephine Pascual wouldn't be here. Meaning she wouldn't be on a quest, chased down by monsters, and forced to help find Zeus's stolen Master Bolt and return it in ten days.

              So there they were, her, Annabeth, Percy, and Grover, walking through the woods on the New Jersey riverbank, the glow of New York City making the night sky yellow behind them, and the smell of Hudson reeking in their noses.

              Grover was shivering and braying nervously. His big goat eyes turned slit-pupilled and full of terror. "Three Kindly Ones. All three at once."

              Josephine was still in shock. The explosion still rang in her ears. The adrenaline rush was crashing; her head was pounding, her arms sore with cuts from Dodds' claws, and her eyes burned with unshed tears. However, Annabeth kept pushing them along, urging; "Come on! The further away we get, the better."

              "All our money was back there," Percy reminded her with a short tone. "Our food and clothes. Everything."

              The daughter of Athena glared at him. "Well, maybe if you hadn't jumped into the fight —"

              "What did you want me to do? Let you guys get yourself killed?"

              "We would've been fine," she snapped, scowling at him. "You don't have to protect us. I don't need protecting."