I lay on the bed and just stared at the painting on the wall. It wasn’t even a painting, it was probably just a picture of one. The art was of a woman with black hair, her hair had random streaks of yellow and green. Her face was fair, and her eyes were closed. She had a warm smile and hugged a girl that was obviously her daughter that smiled back at her mother with brilliant green eyes.
“That is us,” Gaea breathed. “That painting is of us, and what we will become. Don’t deny me any longer, I just want my little girl on the right side,” she promised.
“If you want me to be on the right side, I guess that I will just have to stay on the side I am already on,” I lazily told the painting.
A soft laughter filled the room, “Oh darling, how blind could you possibly be? What I do might seem a little aggressive but I guarantee you that it is in your favor.”
“Oh yeah? Locking people up and forcing them to join your side is for me?” I questioned. There was silence and I took it as surprise. “That is right, I know about what you have been doing to others and I don’t like it. I say that you just stop doing things for me because it is only making me despise you even more.”
“They escaped so it doesn’t matter,” Gaea protested. (I might be refering to JessieCookie's book "Never Underestimate", if that isn't wanted then I'll just be editing this chapter...)
“It doesn’t make it any less violent, what is up with you? What do you even want? I can’t plan any battle strategy and my fighting is like I never had trained which I haven’t. I am nothing, yet you still see a use for me,” I muttered. “What exactly do you want?” I asked as I stared at the mother in the painting.
The eyes of the mother opened quickly, showing the eyes of yellow and gold. “I want you to fight for me, along with your brother,” she harshly whispered quickly. The eyes closed as quickly as they had opened, leaving me staring at the painting wondering how she could do that.
“Could you hand me some clothes?” Olive asked with her head sticking out of the bathroom door. The mood of the place changed so quickly it left me a bit miffed.
“Uh, yeah. Sure,” I stuttered as I rushed to my bag. I took out a large Old Navy shirt and looked away as I handed it to her.
“Thanks,” I heard right before the bathroom door shut loudly.
On my way back to my bed, I glared at the painting that hung innocently on the wall while I knew that it was evil. Or at least it represented evil. Just looking at the mother being a mother and a daughter being a happy daughter made me sick from happiness; that is the reason that I burst out laughing when the thoughts entered my mind. Nothing wrong with that mother, but my mother was just plain wrong.
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Silenced (Demigod Story)
FanficBeing a demigod is hard enough with all of the monsters that attack, but Floret has to go through it all without being able to talk. Her life is hard enough but then she must also deal with who her mother really is... (To read from Cali's pov, read...
