Act Two- I am an accessory to murder

2.5K 103 8
                                    

Disclaimer: The world of Percy Jackson, its characters and settings are the copyrighted works of Rick Riordan and his publishing companies and affiliates. No profit was made from the writing of this story nor was any malice intended in any way, shape or form to the author or the actors/actresses who so brilliantly have brought them to life.This author is not responsible for underage readers. Please observe the ratings, warnings, and age of legal consent for your country.

Trigger Warning for School Shooting, Paedophile, Child Abuse, and 2020 events.

I met up with Luke and Annabeth beside the elevator to go back down to the mortal world.

When I approached they quickly broke up their hushed conversation. I didn't say anything, walking into the elevator and holding it open for them instead. As they got in, I pressed the 'Ground Floor' button and silently prayed that the trip wouldn't be full of awkward silence.

'Bad Romance' by Lady Gaga began playing.

Okay, that's it. What the fuck is up with this thing's taste in music? Also, how does one go about murdering an elevator?

I promptly began to glare holes at where the song was coming from. Honestly, if I had access to a decent supply of water-

"You lied," Luke stated. It wasn't a question.

"Yes." No two ways about it.

"Why?" Annabeth piped up.

"Because the truth would have meant your death."

Luke scoffed, "And it wouldn't have meant yours either?"

I pinned him with a look. "Yes, but I've lived longer than I should have. You're young, you deserve to live your life."

"I'm young?" he asked incredulously.

I raised an eyebrow. "I was older than you are now when I died. I may look like a twelve-year-old, but I'm closer to 34."

"What?" Annabeth said disbelievingly. "You're 34?"

"34 total!" I corrected quickly. "I died at 20, nearly 21. I'm almost 13 now, so age 34 in total."

"You were a year older than me?" Luke frowned, baffled.

I pinched my nose. "Yes, and I can assure you that not only was I more mature than you, I've also lived through too much already."

Annabeth stared at me in sceptically. "How?"

I flicked my eyes to the display that steadily ticked down the number of floors. We weren't even halfway down the elevator ride.

"Because, sweet, innocent, Annabeth- I died in a school shooting during a worldwide plague."

"What?" Luke seemed stunned. "No way, you're lying!"

"Nope," I gave them a grin. "Imagine this: the year is January 2020, you are a young depressed adult. A new illness starts in China, some sort of superflu. You think, 'Ah, the doctors will have this cleared up by the end of the month.' They don't. It spreads worldwide by March. A lot of people brush it off, say it's just some flu. Spoiler alert: it's a thousand times worse. Of course, the death toll starts rising. Worldwide quarantine by May. Some countries cope better than others. In the USA though, where I was, nobody actually did anything because, 'it's against our freedom.' In a word? Stupid. Move. People are still going to work, they're over 100,000 confirmed deaths, and they send you back to school because 'only 1% of you will die.' Fucking lovely. But wait! There's more."

"Suddenly, but not exactly unexpectedly, some cops cause the death of an unarmed black man. 'Black Lives Matter' movement is back and here with a vengeance. 'Defund The Police' and 'ACAB' is everywhere. Millions are rioting and protesting in the streets- It's like the 60's again. Of course, the plague is still going on. This is still only July. The president is a confirmed pedo and racist; he commits war crimes. He is not impeached. Cops are monitoring your social media to see if you're a protester. You live in a surveillance state. You go back to school, it's August. One day, a lockdown drill comes on. This is normal, there hasn't been a single month in your whole life where you haven't done at least two of these drills and seen an actual school shooting happen on TV. You call your family and tell them you love them, just in case. It's a real shooter. He enters your classroom and shoots the students. You bleed out because it wasn't a fatal shot but nobody comes in until nearly two hours later. He managed to kill some fifty students."

Who the hell thought making me a Half-blood was a good idea? {ON HOLD}Where stories live. Discover now