I ran upstairs and laid down, screaming into my pillow. I was sick and tired of this, all of it. My mother had gone off the deep end, pulling stupid stunts, drinking, and who knows what else. She was out now of course, not caring, or maybe not even remembering what today is; or rather, what today should've been. July first, what should've been my little brother Jason's fourth birthday. He'd been missing for months now, there was no sign of him anywhere, and he was probably- no, no probably, definitely dead. I had left him and my mother alone for only a few minutes and when I cane back he was gone and mother was crying on the ground. She had to drag me back to the car kicking and screaming. I had called the police on her, but they stopped questioning her a few weeks later. Mother became bitter after that, saying that I had betrayed her, and she was acting as though she was the only person that mattered. Our fights were becoming worse and far more frequent and I was just tired of going through the same routine every day. I calmed down after a while and sat up. The only reason I stayed in this Hell of a place was because of Jason, I didn't trust mother to take care of him, but now... I ran downstairs and grabbed the laptop off of the coffee table, searching for the next flight out of LA. I hated flights (Go ahead, laugh it up, the daughter of Zeus is afraid of heights. Hahaha, hilarious.), but I was desperate and it was the quickest way out of here. The next flight was in a few hours to Charleston, Oregon. Not as far away as I would've liked, but it would have to do. I bought a one-way ticket and ran upstairs to pack.
***
I was about to walk out of my room, my bag slung over my shoulder, when I remembered something; a photo of Jason and I that was laying on my nightstand. I picked it up and stared at it for a while, then folded it and slipped it into my bag when i felt myself start to tear up. He was gone, there was no sense in wasting time crying over it now. I went back downstairs and out the front door, not looking back.
***
The flight was only a few hours, but it felt like an eternity. Finally, finally, we landed. I grabbed my backpack, went outside, and saw- oh there is no way.. A goat. A goat was just staring at me from across the street. Oh, and its utters were glowing, that was a little...weird. So I did the only logical thing. I followed it.
***
"Well you stop moving?!" I yelled. My feet hurt from walking after the goat for hours and I was getting crabby about it. The sun was starting to rise and I was exhausted. Most people would've stopped following it, or wouldn't have bothered at all, but I was almost positive it was a sign from Zeus. There was a story Zeus had told me once, around when Jason was born, about Amalthea, a goat that was basically a foster mom to him. (Yeah, weird, I know.) Anyway, he'd said that often, if heros saw her it was a sign from him and that they should follow her; however he never exactly specified if she was a good or bad omen.. I got closer to the goat and it didn't disappear this time. "Are you serious? All I had to do was tell you to stop?" I asked, clutching the stitch in my side while walking up to it. "Are you Amalthea? Did Zeus send you?" It gave an irritated bleat, (Honestly, what else was I expecting from it?), then came up and butted its head against my legs, pushing me towards the woods. "What are you- AH!" I tripped and found myself rolling down a small hill farther into the trees and away from the road. I stood up, brushing myself off and cursing at the goat, which had now, of course, disappeared again.
"What are you yelling at?" A voice demanded. I held back a scream and whipped around, looking in the direction the voice had come from. A boy, probably a few years or so older than me, was standing beside a tree, with backpack slung over his shoulder and-
