Down in Flames [OC Demigod Fic]

Chapter Twenty-Seven: "Burdens"

As any mentally stable friend would, Pearl forced me to pull over at the nearest rest area.
I had begun screaming after I heard the malicious female voice inside my head telling me my time was almost up— a voice I knew belonged to Her. Despite the fact we have never met, I have no doubt that this mystery woman has the capability of shattering my conscience with five little words.

"You seriously need sleep," Pearl tells me calmly as she eats a bag of flaming hot Cheetos while stretched across the bench of a picnic table. The only thing good about this rest area is the multitude of snack options the vending machines here supply. Oddly enough, I don't particularly like flaming hot Cheetos, considering the fact I control flames.

"A person's imagination becomes hyperactive whilst said person is sleep deprived. Thus, they are prone to hallucinations," says the girl, popping more Cheetos in her mouth as she speaks.

"I wasn't hallucinating anything," I insist, struggling to find a way to make her believe me. "Sounds can't be hallucinated."

Pearl shrugged. "In your case, they can. Now sleep, you've been awake since four this morning." She yawns, and I do shortly after, which doesn't help my 'I don't need sleep' case. Yawns really are contagious.

She licks Cheeto dust off her fingers, and crumples up the empty bag. "I'll wake you in two hours, promise." Sighing in defeat, I get up from the picnic table and trod over to the Jeep. I climb into the passenger seat and lean the seat back, wrapping myself in the blanket that was stashed in the backseat.

Apparently, even two hours of sleep isn't enough. I am startled awake by Pearl shouting, "Wake up buttercup! The Long Island Sound awaits!"

I groan and turn over, burying myself back into my blanket. "You drive."

The passenger door closes shut and I hear the driver's side door open a moment later. "Great thinking, let the fourteen year old drive," Pearl remarks, I squint with one eye open just to see her little smirk as she puts the key into the ignition.

"Hey Pearl?"

She makes an unintelligible sound as to acknowledge my question. Despite her age, she seems to be a natural at driving as she seamlessly merges into highway traffic.

"You can trust me, right? I mean, you know what I said about Rhodes is true."

Pearl nods. "For sure. You're legit my only friend." I raise my eyebrows, though I am not surprised. Her reputation at Camp Jupiter made me hesitant to befriend her, and the fact that we both got on each other's nerves. One week later, we've opened up to each other more than I'd ever thought possible. The rigid, formal, sophisticated Pearl is using the word legit in front of me. That's how I know she trusts me.

"Then... What happened?"

"What do you mean by that?" She emits a short fit of laughter.

"You still aren't over the past. I know you're going to get all defensive, but I thought it was worth asking."

Pearl pauses before asking, "What makes you think my past is your business?"

"Boom," I slap my hand on the dash for effect. "There it is. Defensive."

Drumming her fingers on the wheel, she replies, "I'm genuinely wondering why you want to know."

"Because I genuinely care about you."

"Again, I must ask why," Pearl bites her lip, as if afraid she would say too much. But as she lets out the breath she'd been holding, it abruptly spills out. "No one has ever cared about me. Not my mother, not my aunt, my grandparents, my second cousin, none of the countless relatives I was thrown to. Definitely not my father."

That's when I finally I get it. No one wanted the tremendous responsibility of raising young Pearl. And after being passed from family member to family member, she was thrown to the wolves.

She speaks again in a shallow, raspy voice. "Have you ever felt like nothing more than a burden?"

Five-year-old Sabine held her marshmallow stick carefully, turning it slowly so that each side of the cylindrical puff would be toasted evenly. As much as she attempted to focus on making 'the most perfectest s'more', she began to lose her concentration. The wildly flickering bonfire entranced the young girl; she watched as the flames fluctuated and the logs shifted slightly each time the fire decimated a fraction of the wood.

Amalie sat next to her daughter, not roasting a marshmallow of her own, but lighting a cigarette. The smoke she exhaled blended in with that of the bonfire, so it went unnoticed by her innocent child.

"You're doing such a good job, sweetie," Amalie said smoothly, sugar-coated words coming out of her bitter-tasting mouth. Sabine, who couldn't tell the difference, smiled brightly as her big brown eyes continued to stare into the fire.

Slowly but surely, her marshmallow began to droop. It sagged off of her stick and plopped into the fire, cause little Sabine to panic. Without hesitation, she set down her stick and plunged her hand straight into the fire, hoping to retrieve the marshmallow.

"Honey, no!" Amalie threw her cigarette into the flames and pulled Sabine backwards in one fell swoop.

"But mommy, how will I make my s'more with no marshmallow?" She pouted as her mother patted away at a part of her jacket which had been set ablaze when the girl reached for her mallow.

"Sabine, listen to me. When other people touch fire, it hurts them. You can't let anyone know that fire doesn't hurt you... so you must never touch it.

"Why not?"

The woman let out a sorrowful sigh. "Because you are special, sweetheart, and mean people do bad things to those who are special... because... because they wish they were special."

Sabine was too young to understand her mother's anxiety over the strange power she possessed. Her mother was a very anxious woman, and she knew her daughter couldn't understand why, at least not yet.

It was already bad enough that Amalie had a child whose father was a mystery— the gossip magazines ate up the story. A beautiful new Hollywood gem suddenly becomes pregnant, and refuses to say a word to the press. The rising starlet's dreams of fame went down in flames.

To make matters worse, paparazzi continued to pester her and pry into her personal life. If they caught wind of her daughter's ability to control fire, Sabine would never be safe from monsters, both the otherworldly kind and the human kind.

I feel a lump in her throat as I answer Pearl. "Yes. I'm sure everyone at boarding school feels like they are there for the same reason... It isn't gratifying, that's for sure."

Pearl remains silent, and I dwell on the thought further. The more I think about it, the heavier it weighs on my heart. I know my mother is worth saving from Hades' grasp, but in all honesty, she wasn't the ideal mom, and still isn't. Hephaestus, of course, isn't the ideal dad. An absent father never is.

At last, Pearl replies, "The past is the greatest burden of all."