Chapter Text
I didn’t have much of a family growing up. Which sucks, because I know there’s people at home who should love me. They just don’t. All I had was my mom and a step-father. My mother was great, if she stuck around every so often. It wasn’t exactly her fault, since she had to go to work. The only person at fault was Gabe; my stepfather. He wasted my mom’s money on poker and beer, which made my mom struggle for money.
Everything would’ve been fine; I could’ve gone about my life living there if I had to. Except, everything has a whole new layer of terrible when there are monsters in the mix. Apparently, there are these bad people my mom calls monsters that would take me away whenever I sang. My mom never said why, but she just said to stay silent, and that was that.
At least she taught me the very basics of sign language to communicate with her. I was still getting the hang of it, though.
I didn’t think she meant any harm by it; she took care of me whenever she wasn’t at work, but that small amount of time just wasn’t enough. So for 16 hours out of every day, I had alone time with Gabe. One day, I was fed up and tired with it.
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“Hey, Brain Boy! Grab me another beer, why don’tcha?” Gabe yelled from the living room over the blaring noise coming from the tv. Some stupid sports channel was on; I doubt he even cares about that crap. He probably watches it to look cool in front of his poker buddies. I rolled my eyes, avoiding the empty beer bottles on the ground as I made my way to the kitchen.
It was always “Get beer!” “Give me money!” “Where’s my pack o’ cigarettes?” so on and so forth. I grabbed the beer from the fridge, bringing it over to Gabe. He somehow managed to smell even worse over the last few months, so my nostrils were getting attacked by the smell of it. Maybe I should help my mom out and clean the apartment? Though it would be most beneficial if Gabe got off his ass and showered once in a while.
“What was that! Are you fucking giving me attitude?” Gabe stood up, forgetting the beer can I worked so hard to carry over. Of course, no matter what I did, Gabe saw any form of body language was a sign of attitude. It’s not like I could vent to anyone; I couldn’t even speak!
I shook my head to say no, but Gabe wasn’t paying any attention. He never was. Who would listen to a stupid 7 year old that doesn’t even speak? I sure wouldn’t. “I’m going to teach you not to talk back to your authority, Brain Boy.”
Gabe raised his fist, and I disassociated before the first hit landed. That was always my tactic; if I stayed in my head and emptied my thoughts and feelings, then I could ignore what was truly happening. Almost like static buzzing around my head; blocking out any senses, such as hearing the yelling. Or feeling the pain. I stayed there for what felt like ages, taking beating after beating. Just ignore, just forget, just detach…
When I came to, Gabe was gone. I looked around before realizing there was blood. Everywhere. On me, on the floor, and on my clothes. I wouldn’t be surprised if my blood was staining Gabe’s fists right then and there. I forced myself to sit up, trying to shake off the sudden dizziness. This was the fifth time this week, and it was only a Thursday. At this rate, I wasn’t going to survive for long.
I stumbled my way to the bathroom, clutching my broken nose. It hurt like hell, but it’s not like anyone around would care. Gabe would be thrilled at the news. I reached the bathroom, turning on the sink and splashing my face. Water always seemed to make the bad feelings go away; like a shower draining away the dirt and grime.
I couldn’t take it anymore; even with the water healing me most of the time, I was bound to have some sort of permanent damage. Being on the verge of death daily can’t be healthy.
So why was I dealing with this? Why would I keep taking hit after hit if all it did was hurt? It wasn’t helping my mom, it wasn’t hurting Gabe, and it certainly wasn’t helping me. It’s not like anyone would miss me; Gabe would be relieved, and mom wouldn’t even notice. This had to be the only option; running away and never looking back. That, or killing myself.
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I grabbed my backpack, hoping it would fit all the essentials. I would probably need food, water, clothes, and a weapon. New York was a dangerous place, especially for a kid with no adults nearby. With that in mind, I started searching the house. I went to the kitchen, grabbing multiple granola bars, bottles of water, and sandwiches. That would be enough for at least a week, maybe? I also grabbed a big knife from the block, hoping it would be enough protection.
I moved over to my room, grabbing my favorite clothes that I thought would be helpful. Especially things like jackets for when it got cold. As I rummaged through my closet, I pulled out a wadded 10 dollar bill. That seemed like a lot of money. All that ‘essentials’ crap got bored, so I grabbed the photo of me and my mom I had on my bed and ran out. I couldn’t stand another second in that stuffed-up apartment.
The cool air hitting my face shocked me into realizing my situation. I was abandoning a roof over my head, almost constant food, a nice bed, and occasional AC. Was this really worth it? Was I willing to risk death just to escape Gabe?
Yeah, probably.
I kept walking, noticing that no one was around. No one to catch fleeing children, no adults to help. I guess that’s what I was going for: no adults to fail me again. No one to hit me when I blinked, no one to abandon me when I needed them the most. This had to be the right move.
The further I walked, the more scared I got. I didn’t know my surroundings, even though mom had tried to teach me how to navigate the area multiple times. I didn’t even know where I wanted to go; just far enough that I won’t have to see that apartment again.
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Of course, there had to be some kind of “monster” around. I wasn’t sure what they looked like; mom said they could be any type with any varying levels of danger. But this one had one eye right in the middle of his forehead. Even with my limited knowledge, I knew it was probably a cyclops that I’ve heard in stories.
I made eye contact with him, my fight or flight kicking in. Can you even make eye contact with one eye? Even though he didn’t attack me yet, mom always said to run in the opposite direction of any monster I come across. So I did. I ran as quickly as possible, forcing my short legs to carry me far away.
I looked behind me as I ran, seeing the cyclops gaining on me. Yup, definitely trying to kill me. Or kidnap me, at the very least. I didn’t like either of those options.
As I ran past civilians on the sidewalk, they started to yell, cursing about how they drop their coffees. Whether at me or the monster, I wasn’t sure; hopefully at the cyclops. I saw one person dialing 911, and I wasn’t sure how to feel about it. It’s been a few hours; long enough for mom to notice my absence, so there’s a possibility the police are already looking for me. Or maybe that would take 24 hours to go through.
Sirens started sounding nearby, and I knew I couldn’t hide for long. I might as well put them to good use and get this monster out of here. Even though I had a knife, that doesn’t mean I wanted to use it. I ran towards the sound of sirens, seeing a few police officers running out of their car at full force.
They thankfully passed me as I ran, going towards the cyclops and putting him in cuffs. “You are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent.” One of them yelled, starting to drag the monster into the car. They didn’t seem phased about the man’s singular eye, but I didn’t question it.
The second officer came up to me, scanning me up and down. “Do you know that man?” She asked, crouching down to be at my eye level. I shook my head, causing her to nod. “Understood. Where are your parents?” Great, how do I get out of this one?
When in doubt, start signing. Most people back off when they realize they don’t know what you’re saying. This method proved useful yet again, making the officer give me a confused look. “You can’t speak or something? That’s alright; if your parents aren’t around, we’re going to take you in for questioning.”
That’s no good. If they found out who I was, they would send me right back to Gabe. It’s not like I could just tell them he hits me; Gabe would kill me! I slowly backed off, seeing a group of people surrounding the area. Nosy people. This could be the perfect area to run and hide…
“Don’t run!” The cop yelled. “Can you just wait a second? Shit, Tyler is so much better at kids than I am.”
The lady turned around to get the attention of the other officer, and immediately, I was off like a bullet. Weaving my way through crowds, I tried my best not to bring any more attention upon myself. I heard heavy boots running behind me, and I knew they were chasing me. I eventually ducked into a nearby store, watching the police run past.
Great, now I’m wanted by the police. Just what I always wanted.
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Once the police were out of sight, I stumbled upon a bus stop with enough people there to slip by as someone else’s kid. The bus couldn’t appear any sooner, but soon enough, everyone piled on the bus at once. My plan managed to work, but I chose a seat in the back just in case. The only people back there were an old man and a girl about my age with blonde hair. I decided sitting next to the girl was a less awkward decision.
It took at least 3 different stops to realize that neither of us were going to get off anytime soon. Who knows; maybe she was on the run too? That would be too much of a coincidence, though. Just as I was about to get off at a random station and figure it out from there, the girl spoke up. “You’re not with any of the families here, are you? Are you one of the monsters?”
My eyes widened at the prospect of being one of the monsters. Did I of all people seriously look like one? I shook my head, loosely signing something about running and monsters. We were on the same team: both trying to hide from the constant monster attacks.
“I don’t know sign language. Just promise me you’re not one of those things…” I shook my head frantically, pointing at myself, trying to show that I also fought monsters. I even pulled out my knife, trying to convey I was safe. That obviously wasn’t a friendly gesture, though. The girl jumped back, moving to protect herself. I put it away after that.
Great, another fail at human interactions.
“So you’re not here to hurt me? You must fight monsters too! At least you have a knife; all I got is this hammer.” She held up a dull hammer with golden dust caked on it, proving that she survived many monster attacks. Despite the rocky start, I smiled. She seemed to be friendly for the most part, and we were about the same age. That’s gotta count for something.
“I’m Annabeth. Hold on, I think I might have some paper for you to write on! Then you can tell me your name, at least.” Annabeth pulled off the red backpack off her shoulders, grabbing a piece of paper and a pencil from the pockets. I grabbed the pencil and quickly scribbled down 5 badly-written letters:
P-E-R-C-Y