exit.
Persephone
There’s a sledgehammer in my head pounding questions through my cranium.
Mom…. She has moved me from place to place, and she’s never explained why. She was always giving me vague answers or telling me it was because of the mortals, but it’s not. We’ve been moving because of him—because of Hades.
As I storm toward the exit I’m a jumbled mixture of rage and uncertainty. What does Hades want from me? Why has he been chasing me for all this time?
I glance down at the floor, so involved in my own thoughts I trip, bumping into someone. “I’m sorry,” I groan, eyes still on the floor.
Adonis grips my shoulders. “Easy there.” I lift my head and he gives me a warm smile. “Where are you going in such a hurry?”
Sometimes I think it’s odd that he pops up at the most unopportune moments and I always manage to do something clumsy in his presence. Last nine weeks he was in my art class and I accidentally dumped an entire can of red paint on him. I’m normally not like that, but around him all of my coordination dwindles away. Maybe it’s because he’s too pretty and way too nice.
Brent McCall was the resident hottie at Klamath Falls High, with rippling muscles, a perfect Crest tooth-paste smile, and a crown of gold a top his head. Well, he was the resident hottie until Adonis arrived and stole the title. The difference between Adonis and Brent is that Brent is an ass; calling students names, shoving the smart kids in lockers, and walking around like he owns the place. And with Adonis it’s almost like he’s naïve, almost like he doesn’t know how attractive he really is.
I inhale deep and exhale slowly. Warmth sears through me from Adonis’s touch and extinguishes the burning rage. “I don’t feel good. I need to go home.” He smirks at me flirtatiously and I look away. My heart hammers nails into my ribcage and part of me wants to stare at his beautiful smile for the rest of my immortal life, but I’m absorbed by my worries and fear to handle my emotions involving him right now. “Adonis,” I whisper, peeling his hands off my shoulders. “I have to go.”
I brush past him, sprinting out the back exit door and I hear him yell, “Are you going to be okay?”
What I want to tell him is no, Adonis, I don’t know if I’ll ever be okay ever again. Right now, my life is a global catastrophe, an asteroid disintegrating the planet, a tsunami wiping out an entire country. For the last five thousand years, I’ve been moved all over the world. For the last five thousand years, I’ve been lied to repeatedly. I’ve been laughed at, tortured by a voice that I was led to believe was an illusion. I’ve had to pretend to be a million different people when all I’ve really wanted to be is myself.
But I don’t tell him any of that. I can’t tell him any of that. I just keep running and running and don’t look back.
I run until I’m standing in front of my house. Shiny black paint fills up my gaze and I scowl at the Ferrari in my driveway. “Freakin great.” My dad is here and I’m one hundred percent sure he’s not here to wish me a happy birthday.
In my eyes, Zeus had earned my respect, but that’s pretty much it. I don’t call him dad and we don’t have any type of father-daughter relationship. Actually, I don’t have any fond memories of him at all. He was just there, hanging around like an antique tapestry hanging on the wall in a person’s home.
Mom had told me once that he never came around because of Hera. Everyone on Olympus knew that her jealous nature could be a vengeful bitch, but I’d always thought that was a lousy excuse, a lousy excuse because Zeus was and always will be the type of God who likes to have his cake and eat it too. As long as I’ve known him, he’s always wanted the best of both worlds. Those worlds being the mortal world and the immortal.
Walking around to the back door, I try to keep all of my emotions in check. I try to tell myself to stay calm, but it’s impossible. Disloyalty, Fury, and ambiguity melt together inside of me and I can hear the crackle from a lit fuse. I can feel the sparks as they scorch my organs. I’m a bomb. In minutes I’m going to explode.
I slip into the kitchen through the sliding glass door. Locking my knees in place, I try to be as quiet as possible and I strain to listen for the sound of voices. I hear nothing.
The square country kitchen with apple wallpaper is submerged in silence. Then I raise my head, slitting my eyes when I hear movement. Floorboards above me spit out creaks and groans and the sound of footsteps thud down the steps. Panic is a fresh stream trickling through my veins, branching off at my heart. I can feel it beating in my throat.
No…I can’t confront mom yet.
There’s huge part of me that wants to. Confronting her and demanding answers was all I could think about on the run home, but I have a feeling that when mom and Zeus get in here they are going to be talking about what I want and need to know anyway. And what if I confront mom after Zeus leaves? Will she laugh at me again and try to convince me I’m dreaming all of this up? Will she tell me that I’m crazy and this voice is just a figment of my imagination?
Muffled voices carry down the hall. Footsteps pound like the beat of a drum at the executioners block. I can’t let them see me. I spin around frantic. Where can I go? Where can I hide? Turning my head my eyes center on the pantry door. No… Mom checks the pantry every time she walks into the kitchen. One of the cupboards? No. There’s no way I’ll be able to pretzel my long lengthy limbs enough to fit. Laughter rings out like church bells on a Sunday.
Shit! Shit! Shit!
Out of the corner of my eye, I glimpse the small round kitchen table with the floral table cloth hanging off the edges. It nearly touches the floor. That’s my only option. So when mom and Zeus are only feet away, I scamper toward the table and dive underneath it.
Persephone
Zeus flops down in the wooden chair. The legs belch out creaks and snaps as it wobbles unsteadily, and for a second I think it might break beneath his heavy body.
Pulling my knees to my chest I suck in a lungful of air as moms’ footsteps pound behind me. Zeus stretches his legs and accidentally kicks my knee. Pain shoots up my thigh and I let out a squeak, and then clamp my hands tightly over my mouth to keep myself from crying out again.
Zeus stiffens, alert of my presence. “What was that?” he questions suspiciously. He hunches over, gripping the edge of the table cloth and lifts up the plastic covering the slightest bit. Instinctively, I shield my face with my arms as a knot of fear ties itself to the lining of my stomach.
The pantry door swings open and I can hear mom shuffling around in there. “Relax. It’s probably nothing,” she assures him. “This is an old house. It makes noises.” Zeus lowers the tablecloth, sitting upright and mom walks over to the table. A loud clash rumbles through the quiet room like thunder and shakes the table. “He sent her these.”
I tuck myself into a tighter ball as mom sits down behind me, her feet eerily close to my back. He sent her these? That has to be the bowl of pomegranates I received earlier.