When I was just five years old, I was confronted with a devastating reality that no child should ever have to face: the loss of both of my parents.
The tragedy occurred during what should have been a blissful honeymoon. My parents were on a ferry bound for the Canary Islands when disaster struck. The official narrative offered by the authorities was a vague and dispassionate account—a freak accident attributed to a rogue wave and a sudden thunderstorm that swallowed the vessel. It was deemed a mere calamity of nature's indifference.
Yet, as I've grown older, I've come to doubt this convenient explanation. I've come to believe that I, in some unfathomable way, was the catalyst for their deaths.
At that tender age, I was blissfully ignorant of the far-reaching consequences of my existence. My parents had chosen to teach me English before Spanish, convinced that the American Dream held boundless promise. They envisioned a future for me replete with milestones: a visa, a green card, citizenship, higher education, a fulfilling career, and a family of my own. They imagined me finding love, turning that love into a commitment, and raising children—perhaps one, maybe two, or even three if I dared to be just a little bit risqué.
What I could not have foreseen was the extraordinary destiny that lay before me. I was unaware of the latent power I possessed, of the monumental potential that would shape my future. I was destined not to be a mere participant in life but to become a living embodiment of the extraordinary, bearing a burden akin to those seen only in the most epic of those Greek myths. This was no fictional adventure; it was the harsh reality of my existence. The fate of the world, the course of the Fifth Age, and the lives of those I hold dear rested upon my shoulders alone.
I direct my anguish and blame toward my mother. I suspect that she was the vessel through which this formidable lineage was passed down to me, imbuing me with a legacy both powerful and burdensome. Perhaps one day, I'll punish her for this, and I'll punish all those who bestowed on me this curse.
In Tartarus.
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𝐍𝐎𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘'𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 | percy jackson
Fanfictiona hundred million stories and a hundred million songs i feel stupid when i sing nobody's listening to me nobody's listening IN WHICH, the daughter of the forgotten god begins to unearth the secrets of her lineage, uncovering truths so ancient that e...
