Nobody Said It Was Easy

Chapter 1

Persephone felt that at this point, she was beyond grief. How sad was that? She had been through so much. She could have died at any waking moment, at any time in any of her adventures. And yet, she survived. She survived. She survived as everybody else around her died. She survived as one by one, her loved ones died side by side to spend eternity together in the peace of Elysium. All except for her.

That feeling of loneliness had been a constant in her life for as long as she could remember.

Sure, she had her mother and her friends. But they could never really understand. She couldn't show them her weakness, her pain. Because she was their leader. And if she couldn't handle the pressure, if she fell, stumbled under the weight of the immense responsibilities thrust unto her shoulders at the mere age of twelve? Then what's to stop the rest of her family, those who had trusted her to lead them, from falling right along with her?

Nothing. That's what. Absolutely nothing.

So she stood tall and proud, steadfast as a beacon of hope for all those who needed her to be. Even after returning from her solo journey through Tartarus that could be described as nothing less than psychologically scarring she was still their perfect leader.

But now they were all dead.

She was cursed. While everybody around her fell, she still stood, struggling and crumbling on the inside, desperately searching for some sort of will to keep on living

Persephone cried the last tear she had within her body while the bodies of her friends and families burned after the shrouding ceremony. They were beautiful. And if anything, watching as the delicate silk shrouds burned served as a sort of closure for her: a way to say goodbye.

She hadn't seen her mother in almost a year. And now, she never will.

Her sea-green eyes, once so bright and full of life, now so completely and utterly dead, stared ahead, unblinking, at the pool of blood that stained the floor in the middle of her family's living room.

She held the crumpled note written in Ancient Greek in her hand so tightly, that she doubted it would even be really legible anymore.

This... this horrible act had been committed as an act of pride. Of spite! Just because she had escaped the torture chamber, her torturer had to come back and punish the people she loved. The only people she had left to love.

Her mother stared up at her from her splayed position on the floor where she had been haphazardly thrown. Dull, lifeless blue eyes that saw nothing were still somehow able to pierce right through her, as if blaming her for her death.

Where were you?

At camp! Where I always am!

Why did you let me die?

I didn't know! It's not my fault! Please!

But that was a lie. It was her fault. Her mother had been targeted because of a score she had created. And she had been killed because she hadn't been paying enough attention.

The police had come, swarming the small place like vultures with their cameras and low murmuring voices before finally taking the bodies away.

And through all of this, she just sat there, against the wall, staring.

Numb.

Frozen.

Shattered.

Eventually, a police woman came over. Crouching down in front of her, she put what was supposed to be a comforting hand on her shoulder and spoke in a gentle voice.

"Hi honey. I'm really sorry for your loss. Can you tell me your name?".

"Pers-Persephone Jackson", she managed to croak out, having to stop and clear her throat to try and get rid of the lump of emotion in the middle of her words.

"Okay, then. Persephone, that's a pretty name. Do you think you can stand for me? We have to take you down to the station to get processed".

She nodded numbly and did as she was asked, standing up fully, leaning heavily against the wall. It was like the numbness she felt spreading across her mind and soul was also affecting her body.

Blankly, she was lead out of her apartment and down the stairs to the waiting police cruiser.

Was that the last time she would ever see her apartment? Her home that she shared with her mother?

Yes.

But did it matter?

No.

It didn't matter. Nothing did anymore. Because the second the last breath of life left her mother's lungs. The second her and Paul's souls journeyed to the Underworld. That apartment stopped being her home.

They say that the home is where the heart is. They're right.

And Percy's heart had been brutally ripped out of her chest.

She had no home. No one to love and no way to be loved.

Where was she supposed to go now?

That was the question that floated through her mind as she was pulled along by that kind police officer. She was drifting.

No home to go back to, and no real reason to go out looking for one. After all, she was cursed...

She was better off alone.