black winged angels // pj

three

Devil took your memory
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"We have all learned, to kill our dreams"

(To be clear, this is still the same day as last chapter.)

"Percy." I muttered repetitively. "What a weird guy."

Someone popular who actually talked to me? Must have a death wish. And on top of that, his eyes. Alright, I get it. I already talked about his eyes. But they were the scariest, most beautiful, most mesmerizing thing I've ever seen. And the emotion in them.

The rest of the day went by in a blur. I like blurs. You don't have to focus on it because you physically can't. Unless you want to have killer headache for the rest of the day. I'm not a big fan of those. I still get them quite often (I have one right now), but that does not mean I'm a fan of them.

So then the bell rang, I was brought back to reality, and I shoved in my earbuds once more, embracing the sweet sounds of nothingness, the same guitar chords and drum beats playing against a grunge voice, singing the same sounds with different lyrics.

I carefully avoided the huge hole on the overgrown lawn, and walked in; slipping my sneakers off.

Quickly grabbed a few crackers, then continued rushing upstairs, slamming my door, and then taking a few heavy breaths, before collapsing on my bed. Call it a bed, it's more of a fold out bed with a trashy mattress attached.

My old bed, a quite nice one in fact, was given to Bobby, my younger brother who was 8 at at the time, received this bed, his bed being too old for him. He had memory foam on it. He was fine, thank you very much.

While cursing under my breath about Bobby, I heard my name being called from downstairs, and almost collapsed.

I lost it all.

She's home she's home she's home she's home

My heart beating rapidly, I slowly walked downstairs.

"Annabeth sweetie, didn't I tell you to leave your sneakers outside?" Helen asked me

I nodded ask quickly as I could, fear clearly taking over the little control I had over myself.

"Good. But remember, I'm trying to help you." Helen said calmly.

My eyes widened twice as big.

"You know what to do, I'm sure."

I slowly lifted off my shirt, as she ran upstairs and grabbed one of Dads old work belts.

"I'm trying to help you."' She soothed, as the first strike hit me.

It whipped back, leaving a deep indent.

I grimaced, biting my lip, being sure of not screaming, I learned from that mistake the first time.

She continued whipping me, making my back bloody and a deep red, almost burgundy colour.

I held my limp arms on the counter, tears pooling around my eyes.

"Have you learned your lesson yet?" She asked me once again.

"Yes Helen" I mumbled.

She shoved me into the counter; slicing my shoulder.

"I did tell you not to mumble, didn't I?"

"Yes, Helen." I mumbled again.

She punched me right above the eye, creating a gash, and probably leaving a black eye.

"I did tell you not to mumble, didn't I?" She responded, in a more threatening voice.

"Yes, Helen." I choked out, making sure I was louder.

"Good. You may be excused. Grab your shirt on the way."

I grabbed my shirt, and dashed up the stairs.

After grabbing a Kleenex, to wipe up the blood on my face, I plummeted to my bed, and sobbed myself to sleep.

=•=•=•=•=•=•=

I struggled to get myself out of my bed the next morning.

What if I did just sit here forever? Would anyone get me up? Would anyone think 'oh! Annabeths not here? Too bad.'

The answer to that question was too obvious for my liking.

I shuffled to my closet, and found two t-shirts left, in which I grabbed the closest one. After putting on a pair of black jeans with great difficulty, I stumbled down the stairs.

Finding my ratty pair of knockoff sneakers on the porch, I slipped them on, and continued on a long walk to school.

I looked at a puddle on the ground, and realized there was a still deep gash on my head, not bleeding anymore, but still ugly, and as soon as someone even glanced at me, your gaze would now be at my black eye. That's a given.

What'll people think this time? What stupid backstory will they think of?

I walk into the front doors of the school, and feel like I'm back at my old babysitters. Whenever you were really bad, my babysitter, Jeanine, would get all the kids to look at you and laugh.

This is what walking though the front doors of the high school looked like. Some laughed, and some just stared.

Was she raped or something?
No one would ever rape her, she's too ugly.
Did she fall on her way to school?
Maybe she was punched again. Thank you, to whoever did that.
Who even is that?
The disappointment of the school.
Oh.

Before I could here any more, I cranked up my volume of my music, and soaked up the alternative rock filling my ears.

=•=•=•=•=•=•=•

It was in biology that I saw that Percy kid again. Since when did I have a class with him?

He looked at me, but then quickly looked away.

I didn't blame him.

I figured he got a speech from his friends about what a piece of shit I was, which I saw coming, so I didn't get really emotional over it.

=•=•=•=•=•=•=

As the bell rang dismissing us all to go home, I ran up to talk to that Percy kid.

But I was unable.

He was surrounded by the entire football team. Clapping, cheering him on.

Oh, yea. Of course. You were trying to be nice to me so you could stab me in the later.

Good? Bad? Sorry for all of the swearing. I'm trying to get into a 17 year old abused depressed language. I'm on my way for Christmas shopping.

HAPPY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE