High School, Demigod Style { Completed }

//Maya's Story, Part 1//

Maya's POV

I lived in one of the most expensive, largest, and fine mansions in all of Los Angeles. My mother left my dad and I after she gave birth to me. She just... left. Ever since, my dad treated me like a slave. I had to do everything he asked. I had no choice. When I turned 6, right on my birthday, my entire life changed. This is what happened.

"Maya! Come down here right now!" My dad yelled. 

"Why?" I questioned. I hate it when my dad gives me orders. He always gives me orders.

"Just come down!"

I knew better this time. I thundered down the stairs of the huge mansion and saw my dad, sitting at the dining table with a cup of coffee. He looked at me and raised an eyebrow.

"Go mow the lawn. Water the garden. Wash the limo. Come back in one hour, and wipe the dock clean. Then make sure the boat is as shiny as new. Polish the ballroom floor. We have very important visitors coming over tonight."

"Father, it's my birthday. I don't expect a present, but can you let me relax? Just for today?"

"No, Maya. Absolutely not. You are one year older, you must be more mature. You must be more obedient. More helpful. Now do what I asked. Go!"

"Yes, sir."

Little me ran off without another word, cursing under my breath. If you wonder how I know how to curse properly and with meaning at 6 years of age, it's because my dad has said them all to me many times before. 

I had just finished mowing the lawn and watering the garden. I decided to take a 2 minute break. I leaned against the hood of the car and took a break.

My father came to check on me that exact moment.

"MAYA! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!" 

"Sir, I was just taking a small break."

"EXCUSE ME? DID I RAISE MY DAUGHTER TO BE A LAZY GIRL, NOT AT ALL LADYLIKE, WHO SITS AROUND OUTSIDE DOING NOTHING? WHY ARE YOU LEANING AGAINST MY LIMO?"

I step forward.

"I already mowed the lawn. And watered the flowers. I was just taking a break, that's IT." I pleaded.

"NO! ABSOLUTELY NOT! GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!"

"Father! Please!"

"GET.OUT!"

I grabbed my backpack, which I always leave in front of the front door, packed with a bit of food, a canteen of water, a sweater, and a combat knife. I slung it over my shoulder and I took off.

Sobbing, I sprinted towards the end of my street and I hear the door of the house I've known all my life slam shut.

I kept running and running, to nowhere in particular. All I had to do is get away from the man who always abused me and treated me with no respect whatsoever.

I am nobody's personal servant.

I don't deserve this.