The Half-Blood Project

22- Mother Of All Monsters

Annabeth Chase 

It took us a day and a half to reach Saint Louis, a long train ride across the never-ending plains, so golden and beautiful against the morning glow of the sun. It's peaceful, watching it all swoosh by, not having to do anything else. 

I rest comfortably on my seat, tucking my legs in, wrapping my arms around my knees and my chin on my hands. Percy and Grover are passed out in the seats across from me, empty juice box's and burrito wrappers were strewn about, we were out of money, it took all of our money and some pickpocketed money to get on the train to Saint Louis, from there, I wasn't sure how we'd get to New York City, but we'd find a way.

The stretches of rolling hills and flat grassland always remind me of the times when Dad used to be kinder, the days when we went on road trips out to Chicago for work, he'd turn the radio up and blast a mix of ACDC and jazz, which was an odd, strange combo, but I loved it. I'd always be drawing on my little paper board, kicking my legs on dad's seat, annoying him, but he always said he would be okay with it. 

How did he change into a cold-hearted shrew who didn't give a damn about my existence? He didn't care about me once he met Helen, and when the twins were born I suddenly didn't exist. 

To me, it didn't make sense, how someone could just change like that? Luke changed, Dad changed, Thalia change. 

Why did everyone have to change, leave me? Leave me lost, alone in this cold, dark, unforgiving world? Did they just decide I wasn't good enough for them? For them to be happy and secure I had to leave, be rid of their life? 

I held in the sudden force of tears, face going hot from anger and rage that boils in my chest, the bubbles froth over, I strain to keep the tears down and away from everyone to see, to judge, to think I'm weak and worthless. I hate being perceived as weak, hate being seen as something lesser than I am. 

I want to be strong, I want to cling to who am I and those memories without tears, without hurting so much inside I want to throw up my insides. 

"Hey." A groan, a soft voice comes from across me, I gulp down the tears and look at Percy yawning wide, so that I see his white teeth and the roof of his mouth. Black hair pokes into his eyes and he brings a hand up, sweeping it to the side. 

"Oh hey, we're about four hours away." I looked out the window, feeling the warmth of the afternoon sun on my cheek, letting it shine on me. I feel his stare on me but don't act on it, letting him do whatever he pleases. I'm so tired of snapping at people for looking at me or doing anything that has to do with me. 

"You sleep at all?" I hear him ask and I shake my head. Of course, I didn't sleep, I couldn't even close my eyes without seeing possibilities of what could happen in New York City, seeing my mother, seeing what she looks like and how she might react to seeing me. Not without seeing Luke's face and the white scar across his face, marking him as a survivor, not a victim, and his angry sneer planted on his sickening face, judging me, making me feel bad for who I am. Not without seeing Thalia, seeing where she might be, what she might be doing, and if she'd die or not. 

"Nah, not here," I respond in a quiet voice. He nods as he understands. Does he? Does he understand what I see when I close my eyes? 

No, no-one ever will. 

"Well, if we're close to Saint Louis, we should do something while we're there, something to make us remember." 

I laugh and remember being in Saint Louis with Luke and Thalia when I was eight. "Always wanted to visit the Arch, tallest one in the world." 

Percy cracks one of those stupidly endearing smiles. "Yeah we should never be fond of heights, but we should." 

"It's been a week and it's felt like a month we've been on this mission to Olympus."