19.) Maybe The Real Paranoia Is The Friends We Made Along The Way

86 6 0
                                    


@Sᴛɪʟᴇs-Is-Tʜᴇ-Nɪɢʜᴛ

1:05 ───⊙─────── 4:14

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮▯▯▯

playιng: [Pᴏʀᴋ Sᴏᴅᴀ] - [Gʟᴀss Aɴɪᴍᴀʟs]



     If Xan had still been foolishly trying to sleep through the night, she'd have probably woken up late for school. Without the burden of sleeping, she was able to pick out the perfect outfit, alphabetize all of her assignments, and spend 45 minutes in a downward spiral about the silver streak in her hair.

     It sat right at the top of her forehead, a thick patch of shining silver hair. Almost like in 'Nightmare On Elm Street', but Xan didn't think her nightmare had scared her enough to permanently alter her hair.

     If it was that bad, then she should've had a full head of gray hair by then. She had woken up in a cold sweat at least once a week for as long as she could remember, her hair should've been gray by the time she was 7. The silver wouldn't wash away, and no amount of scrutiny changed its position or appearance.

     After she'd finally been able to accept its existence, Xan still had plenty of time to do her hair and makeup to Lydia standards, with an hour to spare before Allison was supposed to pick her up for school.

     All of her best instincts were telling Xan that she should glue herself to Allison's side until she was sure that she could be trusted. The slowly rising sun however, had instilled a new sense of confidence in her, demeaning the fear from her dream.

     Morning's early hours seemed to make her dream less real, more of a nightmare than her usual style of prophecy. Maybe the sudden change in hairstyle had also played a part, reminding her that there was always a bigger problem for her to worry about. Regardless, she was less concerned with Allison with every passing minute, the directed fear shifting into a general malaise.

      Once she heard her mother begin a pot of coffee, Xan joined her in the kitchen. As a general rule Xan never spoke to her mom about her demigod life. Not the bad parts at least. She'd tell as much of the story as she could, but most of the low parts were given a quick Walt Disney polish.

     Phoebe Beaumont knew that her daughter had gone through some difficult and scary things as a demigod, but she didn't know exactly how many times Xan had closed her eyes and waited for death. She didn't know about her curse, and she didn't know that Xan's trunk at camp was filled with letters for her and Devereaux should she die. Xan wrote one at the beginning of every summer and during every quest, just in case.

     For example, Phoebe had seen her daughter fall from the St. Louis Arch, but she thought that Xan and Percy had planned it. That Xan had known that she'd live. The truth was that Xan had fallen, and for a full 30 seconds she stared at the river rushing up to her, and accepted what she had already dreamed would happen. Even when he'd caught up to her, Percy didn't know that he'd survive the fall either, or that just his touch could save Xan too. They just didn't want to have to face death alone.

     Her life was full of memories like these, things her mom and brother could only get a small window into. Xan didn't want them to worry over something that she could handle by herself, something that she should handle by herself. She was the one who belonged to that world, they didn't need her dragging them down with her.

Aphelion ⎯⎯⎯⎯ Stiles StilinskiWhere stories live. Discover now