Children of Chaos

ADULT EMO GOTH MAN

Death scenes weren't necessarily my cup of tea, especially when it's my favorite character. It's worse that I'm in the detention room with a bunch of menacing kids. And all I wanna do is curse the author's name into the wind.

I slammed the book shut, probably too loudly. My (adopted) mother walked into the room, her arms crossed as she pursed her lips. She always did it when she was angry, trying to guilt trip me, before she would hurt me. 

Mr. Johnson started talking with my "mother", shouting about how much of a "disgrace" I was, and that I should be "disciplined".

The 12th grade kids stared daggers into my back as I strolled through the door. I hoped that was what they were doing. Knowing that older kids actually envied/hated you meant you were payed attention to. Mostly when kids think every one is wondering about them, hating them, they usually have no idea who the crap you are.

Priscilla, the secretary who was really the only nice person in the office, looked at the bruise on my forehead. I skirted my eyes away. Don't ask, don't ask, please don't ask.

"How'd you get that bruise, Lucas?" she asked in a soft voice. She should've known by now, after going to school with cuts, bruises, and broken bones.

I swallowed and tried to meet her eyes. "Got in a fight with some kids."

She walked off without saying another word. She knew it was my mom's fault for the bruise, she just never told anyone about it. 

"Mom" pinched my ear, dragging me towards the door. It seemed as though no matter how many bad things I did, I've stayed in the same district of school for 5 years. For 5 years I've been trying to get out of it.

"Cussing at a teacher? In class??" She yelled at me as we walked into the SUV. "What did you even say, and what enforced you to say it?"

I sighed. It wasn't as bad as hitting your own child just because you're drunk, I thought.

She didn't have to know. She'd just hit me again. Whether I told her or not.

 She exhaled and rubbed her temple. I guess her little boy wasn't as polite as she would've hoped. 

"Mom" dropped me off at the bus station. I did this everyday to get downtown. I usually went down there to hang out with Paradise and Dion. Paradise was this completely weird, down to earth, hippie girl from Hawaii who hated Boston because of the lack of waves and ocean. Dion was a boy who was entitled to his own name. Popular guy. Some say he was related to that guy from the 60's, hence the weird name. I just think his parents were strange. Girls all love him because he plays baseball and has gelled up hair, but he only liked Paradise. Just try telling me about your third wheel experience.

Apparently, all of our mom's dropped us off at the station, so we sat on the bus together. "Lucas, did you even brush your hair today?" Paradise ruffled my blonde hair, then tried straightening it out. 

"Why bother when you already have this face?" I said it without laughing. I usually only fixed my hair on Fridays, when Dion's mom took us out to pizza. She was the only one of the three of us who had a nice mother. 

Before the doors shut, a middle aged man with black hair and dark clothes, walking a-what?! Three headed dog. The man was walking a three headed dog. I almost screamed but Paradise covered my mouth.

"You know that guy?" She scream/whispered in my ear.

I shook my head. "Which one?"

"The one with the beard. No, idiot! The one with the three headed dog, staring at you!"

I wanted to scream. I feel like I knew this guy, but my mind couldn't place him. It was like a dark, foggy cloud floating over my childhood, something no one could remember. 

The bus screeched to a stop. The man looked me straight in the eyes and stood. Dion stood then, raising his left arm over Paradise and me. He was like a protective little guard dog.

"Children, you must leave here. Now," His three headed dog growled. Or one of them growled. Something. 

Cerberus, my mind echoed. Did my mind just self consciously want to name the three headed puppy or did I just remember something?

Dion's face darkened. "Why should we trust you, huh?"

"They're coming. You need to get out here. Now. Go to camp."

"What camp are you talking about?" Dion shouted, attracting the attention of the people sitting around us. 

When emo adult man opened his mouth, he was interrupted by the shattering sound of glass. He put his arms over the three of us and we were enveloped in a darkness. I tried screaming, but something stole the words from my mouth.

It was a familiar feeling. If nothing could be a feeling. 

My two friends all landed on grass in a meadow. My head ached worse than any head ache I've ever had. Paradise and Dion seemed to be in worse condition. They laid on their stomachs, limbs sprawled out, groaning. 

The old man (who... what did he do? Transport us through darkness?) was nowhere to be seen.  A group of adults who seemed to be the same age as that guy were wearing battle armor and holding swords, murmuring silently. What was this, some old people nerd convention?

"Demigods," A woman with graying blonde hair said. "That's impossible, the gods... they shut off from humans. How...?"

My friends and I stood up rubbing our heads. "Look, sorry to ruin your greek geek thing, but we have no clue what you're-"

A man interrupted me. "They're kids of the Big Three. They... they call them the Children of Chaos," He turned gravely towards us. "The war has officially begun."

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