Percy Jackson One Shots

Its a pen...a pen

Now before I start. Let me tell you a bit about myself. I'm fifteen, im short...ish. With choppy sandy blonde hair and amber eyes...I know. I'm weird. I was claimed by Apollo, one problem. A major one. Something...went wrong. You know, Apollo. The God of truth. Well...I'm forever cursed to tell it. Pretty much making my life... Miserable. Anyway. Where was I. Right.

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I sat calmly at the dinner table, fiddling with my pen. As I normally did. My family knows I'm a demigod, and they don't mind...although. There's a couple rules. No weapons at the table. No magic-cy stuff inside. No setting stuff on fire. No maiming. No killing. No fighting...Let's just say. Nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing more, or less ,than average. Yet I can assure you. Our family. Is not ordinary, average, normal...whatever you wanna call it.

I looked up from my pen, that's glinted out of the corner of my eye as I still fiddled. My younger brother sat beside me, scribbling a dinosaur with his green crayon on the table. I took it from his grasp, he gave me a scowl before magically pulling a blue one from his pocket and filling in the spikes. I couldn't keep up with this kid. My older brother sat across from me. Phone in hand, classic teenager. My older sister sat at the other end of the table. Attempting to braid some sort of sparkly hair extension in, while trying to eat her Bolognese. Causing the tips of her hair to be covered in sauce as she tilted, trying to get a better view of what she was doing. Even I didn't know beneath the matt of knots and dinner she had created. I looked around, catching my mothers harsh grey eyes.

She looked me up and down. "No weapons at the table", she said. I groaned. What so we could have phones, crayons, Bolognese covered sparkly hair extensions yet no pens. Yep, my family was weird. My brother looked up to see my pen in hand. Before he gave my ,other a curious, bewildered look. "It's a pen...", he said slowly. "A pen!", he emphasised. Causing me to smile as I tried to keep my lips sealed.

It felt as though a strong force was inside my mouth knocking and jumping and squirming to get out. The darned truth. Finally, I could barely breath.

I took in a large breath, and the moment I did. It blurted out, "Actually. It's a sword", I smiled smugly. Before hitting myself. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. My mother gave the same smug, satisfied look towards my brother before he scrunched up his face, barely recognising my existence and tapping madly on his screen.

My mother held out her hand. "Pen", she spoke sternly. "It has a name!", I muttered. She raised her eyebrow further than I thought possible. "Never mind", I mumbled as I handed over the pen.