❛ 𝐓𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐒 ❜ ━━ 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐘 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐱 𝐎𝐂

𝐗𝐗𝐕

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈𝐈 ༄ 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖

𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐚 𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐮𝐧𝐞
[𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄]
୨⎯ ❝𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐚𝐰𝐲𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐮𝐬 𝐚 𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐭❞ ⎯୧
ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ: ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵃᶜʰ, ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵉⁱᵍʰᵇᵒᵘʳʰᵒᵒᵈ
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     SOMETIMES MENODORA FELT LIKE she was a spectator in the stadium of her own life, watching from the bleachers as anyone but her was down on the field.

Menodora hadn't a clue as to why she had demanded Percy to forget about their conversations in the attic.

Nor had she a clue as to why she had even opened her mouth last night. Like a fool, she had retched out her thoughts as if she were vomiting in hopes of relieving a stomachache, thus expecting the poisoned food to surface. Instead, she was met with her own acid, and there was only herself to blame for the pain.

It had felt right in the moment to do all of these things. It had felt right to push him away from her. It had felt like trying to rid a family of a violent dog. Only Menodora was the dog and the family was ignorant of her violent nature, believing they could fix it.

Although she had lived for thousands of years, her fourteen-year-old self was still stuck in her head, and her inner child was hidden from her in one of the chambers of her heart. Everything she knew was tinted with both physical and emotional violence like a blinding yellow highlighter.

As much as the thought revolted her, Menodora had felt a sense of justice when she had turned Sitra, the most beautiful girl in the army, the girl who had taken away her boyfriend from her, into a disfigured slave, her life squandered by something as simple as a brick.

Menodora had spent countless sleepless nights picking at her skin, which displayed the pink tissue that protected her brittle bones like a blanket protects the nightmare-haunted child from the dark.

Those nights felt right and deserved. They made her feel seen in ways she had been oblivious to. The wounds had been prompts that reminded Menodora that no matter how hard she tried, she was bound to solitude. She was born a sacrifice, and she would die a sacrifice.

Well, she hadn't been alone. She had had a boyfriend who loved her (even if it was for a little while), a brother who cherished her, and a friend who had been her guide through life. But they were stars, and she was the moon. They shined so bright, while she was so brutally, yet in her eyes, so rightfully lonesome.

So, Menodora's perception of right and wrong was anything but well-founded.

Maybe she shouldn't have been so harsh on Percy just because it felt right. For a second, she wished she could take it back and fix it. And the next, she wasn't so sure.