Hell is Real

Chapter 8

They had a test that day, in second period. They never moved classrooms, but the periods changed. Percy Jackson never looked away from the window. Leo Valdez played with matches under his desk. The Planter had her binder out, pages and pages of flowers Nico had never heard of.

The test. In the end, they were told to seal the question booklet. The white labels don't fit properly in the designated sections. None of this fits. They weren't allowed to discuss the questions. They no longer exist. They never existed. Ethan tried to fight back. They drag him away. Ethan never existed either.

The test was over. Nico didn't remember the questions, didn't remember what it was on. Their teacher looked more weary than usual. When all the tests were collected, they were told to get their textbooks out. Textbooks that Nico could never quite read. A different language, a language never explained. The other kids could read it.

Except for the few that were different. The different ones, the different ones...

They wouldn't last long.

They read, they read. They didn't notice the scream down the hall, the scream that came every day. Nico looked up, The Planter looked up, all the differents looked up. The teacher looked down at them in pity, shook his head, pointed to the book.

The pages they couldn't read.

Nico couldn't read, couldn't stand to stare at the pages. He leaned back in his seat, leaned back and looked at the ceiling above him. There's always a small patch of mold up there.

Always.

Above all his desks, school and home. He scraped off the one at home one night, and found that it had tripled in size everywhere else the next day.

The mold. It wasn't above anyone else's desk.

Nico stared at the mold, Percy stared at the lake, Leo stared at his greasy hands. Hazel stared at her binder, the teacher stared at his students. Staring, staring, staring...