Chapter 7

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RickRiordanfan1379 Lucypg74 auroravalentine1

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RickRiordanfan1379 Lucypg74 auroravalentine1


I've been here for about two months now and, with the help of Leo and Grover, I've finally convinced Piper, Clarisse and Will that I'm not like my mother. And now that I have my friends back, I finally feel happier, but not as happy as I would like to be.

The rest of the camp still hates me and it's slowly killing me from within, but I don't let my friends know that, I don't want them to suffer simply because I'm suffering, so I keep my mouth shut , stick a fake smile on my face and get through the day.

But, when I'm with my friends and I'm laughing with them, then it's real, it's not fake, then I feel genuinely really happy, and I hope they will remain my friends, because I'm still I keep worrying that one morning I'm going to wake up and I've imagined it all and they're not my friends, they're still ignoring me and they're scared of me, I guess because of everything that's happened, Over the past two months I have been suffering from separation anxiety.

But I think I've been suffering from it for longer, longer than these past two months, let me explain. When I was born I didn't know my mother, I never even saw her, touched her, I didn't know who she was and my father never wanted to tell me anything about her, he always said it was too complicated when I was younger , barely 8 years old, I was angry with him, angry that he wouldn't tell me about her, I wanted to know who she was, what she looked like, whether she wanted me, or whether it was an accident that she had become pregnant , but now that I'm older and know the truth about my mother's identity, I understand why my father wouldn't tell me. But it goes even deeper than just an absent mother, throughout my childhood.

In kindergarten I barely had any friends, I had maybe one, maybe two, but then I almost drowned one of my friends in mud and I broke the other one's arm, so after that I was friendless for my entire preschool career and was forced to changing schools, my father said it was for the best and that it wasn't my fault and that he still loved me just as much and I believed that, I was 4 years old, then you believe everything your parent tells you. But I did hear the teachers whispering behind my back that I was a problem child.

When I left there, I started primary school, I was 10 years old at the time and I had decided to behave myself at this school and not get angry in the least. I had a few friends too and I was really happy, happy that I wasn't messing it up this time.

And until the third grade, I was quite successful, but then things went wrong. A few boys in my class, real brats, who always tried to make me angry, went too far this time. They grabbed me and took me to the boys' locker room and put me in the showers and turned the water extremely hot and made me stand under it and then I lost, I glared at the boys and clenched my hands into fists and stepped out of the shower and suddenly  one of the boys was coughing up blood, another boy broke both his ankles and the third boy fainted, and then the teachers came in and they were upset to see the boys like that and they blamed me, I had tried to explain to them what had happened, but they wouldn't listen to me and the next day I flew out of school, I didn't realize then that I had hurt those boys, I had convinced myself that they were sick and that that's why it happened, but now I know better, I did that to them, it was my fault, it was always my fault.

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