Birdie slowly opened her eyes. The last thing she remembered was leaning on Luke for support, since she was so tired. She yawned. Sitting up, she saw she was in a bed. A really silky, huge bed. Looking up, she saw it had thin veils draping the high bed posts. She got out of bed and found that it stood right in front of a bigger than life statue of her mother.
Birdie groaned. The memories of last night poured in on her. They knew she shouldn't exist. She had been getting along so well with Annabeth and Piper. Even crazy Leo had grown on her. The problem was that every person that liked her, she got a gift from. She now was really good with her hands, had a love for architecture, and appeared to have a weak form of charmspeak.
Mother's stupid gift. More like stupid curse.
Now everyone loved her. Or they did until they found out that she had a crazy plotting goddess for a mother. Annabeth probably hated her just as much as she hated Hera now.
Stupid, stupid, stupid curse!
Birdie got out of bed. She went to the far right corner of the temple looking cabin, where there was a closet. All of the clothes inside were her size, and all of them were peacock blue. She couldn't just wear regular clothes? Nope, no regular for you, it had to resemble her mother.
She pulled on a simple blue tunic and belted it at the waist. She also pulled on some white leggings. At least all of the clothes didn't say, Hi! My mother's the peacock goddess! Thank goodness.
The problem with all the clothes, was that they were completely impractical. How were you supposed to sword fight in heels? Birdie put on her old gray sneakers, not caring how little they matched.
Birdie smelled bacon. Mmmm. Her dad used to make bacon and eggs for breakfast every Saturday. No matter how much time he had in the morning, he always sat to eat with her.
Birdie brushed her teeth in the bathroom in the far left corner, grabbed her bag with her journal in it, and headed out the door. She looked out at the camp as she walked to breakfast. There were people sharpening swords, stretching, and even arguing over who had dish duty.
She got to the pavilion and sat at the Hera table. There were supposed to be rules on where you sat, but no one seemed to follow them. Birdie decided to sit by herself, since, well she was probably getting the cold shoulder from everyone right now anyway.
Then she realized she was hungry. She got up and went to the serving table. She picked up pancakes, bacon, scrambled eggs, toast, and orange juice. This girl was famished.
Sitting at the Hera table, she saw that Piper and Annabeth were already there.
"Hey Birdie," said Piper, "we thought we might sit with you today!"
"Erm thanks, I guess," she replied, cautiously.
Annabeth looked away. Birdie couldn't blame her. Her mother had just broken her vows, leaving Annabeth with an annoying little girl, who's mother hated her. Could she make things right again? She could say that she was nothing like her mother, that she wouldn't ever hurt Annabeth because she was so unlike Hera? No. That would be lying. Of course Birdie would hurt her, just like everyone else.
"Wow, you look hungry," said Piper, as Birdie snarfed down the food she had gotten for herself. "So, how about you and Luke?"
Birdie choked, "What?!" Annabeth just stared at Piper like she was a mad scientist.
"Absolutely. The way you guys talk to each other, it's like no one else exists in the world. It's just you two talking about sandwiches and cool-aid."
"How did you-"
"Honey, you know stuff that goes on in people's heads. I know stuff that goes on in people's hearts."
"Piper that was so sweet!" said Annabeth.
"Thank you. Now as for you and Luke. I personally don't know why he opened up to you, especially since he knew Annabeth and Thalia for so much longer. Seriously, take what you can get. He likes you, and you clearly like him, so ask him out already!"
"Um. Um. Um...I can't," Birdie stuttered. Now that Piper mentioned it, Luke did seem to soften for her and not for anyone else. Then again, she'd only known him for one day. What if I hurt him? She couldn't risk that. "Um, I hardly know him, I mean, I just met him yesterday," she gave a nervous giggle.
Piper let out an exasperated sigh. "Who cares? You don't want to lose any time with this guy. You probably know him better than anyone, since you read his mind. I'm guessing you told him about yourself too."
"Not really," Birdie mumbled. Actually, he knew more about her than most did, but it still wasn't very much. A tear fell from her cheek. She never should have told him anything. As long as he didn't know anything, he wasn't in danger because of her.
She pulled her journal out of her bag and started writing. Eventually, since Birdie was no longer talking, Piper and Annabeth left.
April 15
What do I do? Piper thinks I like Luke, and I'm afraid that I do! I can't hurt him! Besides, it's just a crush. But a crush can lead to letting things slip. I can't let him know that I-
"Hey," said a voice from behind her, "can I sit here?"
Birdie winced. It was Luke. She really should have said no, but she didn't.
"Sure!" she replied, and he sat across from her. She looked at his face. In everyone's memories, he had a huge scar running down it, but now he didn't have that.
"What do you plan on doing today?" he asked.
"Well, I thought I might get myself a weapon, a good one, to keep."
"Cool," he said, "do you want some help? Who knows where back biter is right now? I could use a new weapon too."
"Sure," she replied. She should have said no. If he came along, something might slip. He couldn't know everything she had done. She was nothing like her mother when it came to loyalty. She just couldn't help but hurting people. She was cursed to do so.
Muahahahah! Cliffhanger! I'm evil! I can't stop writing. I've posted like 5 chapters in the past twenty four hours. Isn't that awesome?! Keep reading! Oh, and please vote for me!
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The Child of Hera
FanfictionThis is a Percy Jackson Fan fiction, pretty simple. Please enjoy this story full of cliffhangers and unfair deaths. I'm an author, what did you expect? Presenting, the Child of Hera.