Before It Dies | Tratie

v. using pride's excuse

Happy New Year!

     I used to be afraid of ghosts.

     Before I discovered I was a demigod, the only real thing I was afraid of was ghosts and the avocado tree I grew from seed dying.

     I used to go over to my friend's houses and we'd listen to ghost stories, watch horror movies, and scream at the terrifying parts. In the moment, screaming was thrilling and fun. We'd throw popcorn at each other, kick at each other in surprise, things that were completely innocent. During the night, it was hard to fall asleep because of our fear, but mine was by far the worst.

     My friends used to crowd around me when I told them I had another scary story. They were terrified of the stories I told with such detail and realism. I had their attention every time even if I had experienced scarier. Knowing that I'd be laughed at and ridiculed if I said that the stories were real, they believed I just had a knack for writing horror.

     In the night wherever I went, I heard steps creaking and scratches on the wall. I could see inhuman figures swishing past the window that spoke about my mother, whom I never met. There were sounds talking about a girl which I knew deep down was actually me. Sometimes they'd try and attack me and I'd thrash around struggling. In the end what always happened to save me was the large plant beside my bed. It would reach over and suffocate them, or jab the monsters, until they disintegrated and disappeared.

     This was obviously when I had no idea I was a demigod. I thought I was crazy for being scared of something as stupid as ghosts, but the truth was, it was ridiculous. It wasn't ghosts I should have been scared of, it was monsters.

     The girl beside me, innocent to all the suffering we had been through, never fought in the Titan War or Gaea's Rise. It gave me a sense of relief knowing that she didn't have to go through as much as the older demigods did. Some people would have been jealous and bitter that fate would make it so that they were born earlier into a cruel world to demigods but I always saw it that fate made it we got to change that.

     I guess now I'm only afraid of breaking from the inside.

     For years, I've been training myself to be tough on the outside so it's easy for me to heal that way. I've had countless broken bones, millions of bruises, paintings of scars across my back, and calloused hands from gardening. We train to hurt and to withstand pain when it comes, but never in the ways of the heart.

     As far as I'm concerned, the only heartbreak I've ever experienced is when the avocado tree I spent four years caring for was destroyed by a monster. The deaths of other demigods were comrades, people I knew well but didn't particularly care deeply for. Yes, everyone here is like a family, but we're also trained to make sure they don't get too close.

     It's when you let something mean a lot to you when you suffer from heartbreak.

     I know that if I lost Miranda, I'd be broken. If I lost Sherman or August or even the Stolls, a part of me wouldn't be the same. For some reason, I felt like the demigod with licorice-black hair and creamy brown eyes was going to be one of the people I was attached to.

     She wasn't a daughter of Demeter, I could tell by her bored eyes when she looked at the gardens. Yet she was interested in everything, kind of like a puppy. I showed her the potatoes and how the separated in the dirt sometimes, and how we grew new ones. When she got bored, I led her to the strawberry fields.

     "This is where all the non-literal magic happens." I said with a smile.

     She scanned her eyes over the large fields, grinning when she noticed the red blotches of strawberries. Peggy looked at me for permission and I nodded handing her a basket.