Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
chapter eight. ☄︎. *. ⋆
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
FOR A DAUGHTER of the sun, you would be surprised of my love for the nighttime. I've always admired the stars and the moon, the pitch black of the sky. I never understood the bickering between Apollo and Artemis. After all, there is no light without dark, right?
But anyway, as much as I can usually find the beauty in the night's simplicity, it didn't take me long to be disgusted by my surroundings on this regretful evening.
After we escaped from Aunty Em's and Percy mailed the gods Medusa's head in a postage box, we figured it was time for a break. Grover found a marshy clearing about a hundred yards from the main road that some local kids had clearly been using for parties. Crumpled beer cans and fast-food wrappers littered the ground. At the sight of it, Grover's spirits seemed as crushed as the empty cans.
We had taken some food and blankets from Aunty Em's, and though our clothes were wet and we were shivering harder than excited Chihuahuas, we didn't dare light a fire. Annabeth argued that the Furies and Medusa had provided enough excitement for the day, and we didn't want to attract any more monsters. (I added onto her claim, declaring that I didn't want to see Percy's face illuminated by firelight.)
Sleeping in shifts became the consensus between the four of us. Percy, being his heroic self—gag—offered to take the first watch. Annabeth curled up on a pad of blankets and was out before her head even hit the ground. Grover used his shoes from Luke to flutter up to a low-hanging branch, put his back to the trunk, and fell asleep almost just as quickly.
I tossed and turned on the makeshift sleeping pad. I had copied Annabeth's design, with a blanket folded up beneath me and another on top for warmth, but it wasn't doing me much good. Shivering, grumpy, and tired, I sat up, rubbing my eyes.
"Go to sleep," Percy said flatly, and without even looking over his shoulder to know it was me. "I don't even wanna know how much of a pain in the ass you are when you're tired."
"About as much of a pain that you are on a daily basis," I said, pulling my knees to my chest. "Can't sleep. You go."
"Doubt I'll get much, either," he admitted, his silhouette in the moonlight shrugging.
"Nightmares," I mused, nodding. "Happens to the best of us, Aquaman. You're not special."
"Never said I was," he shot back irritatedly. A silence fell over us, the only sound being the faint chirp of a cricket or an occasional hoot of an owl. After a moment, Percy's figure turned to face me. "Question."
