The Dark in The Daughter of Apollo¹ | l. valdez

Hello, I'm The Hogwarts Professor From A Disney Moive

(Sol's POV)

🌞🌞🌞🌞🌞

I placed a hand on my racing heart, trying to calm down after the mini heart attack it had, "I think I'll just hide under a bunch of covers for the rest of my life, thanks."

Will chuckled slightly, "Don't worry, Some people get it worse."

I raised an eyebrow, "You're scaring me now. First with pulling a cup of Apple juice out of thin air. Then the Apple juice turns out to be Apple juice, instead moldy hamburger juice! What's next? You gonna tell me I'm a witch and then ship me off to Hogwarts? Or am I in Narnia? Or even better, I have to run for my life in a giant maze made by sixteen year olds?"

I was scowling at the end of my rant. And, I'll admit, I could have been nice about it, but after tasting moldy hamburger, I dare you to try and b's nice to the person who gave it to you.

He put up his hands in surrender, "I'm my defense, I didn't know it would be a moldy hamburger. Its called Nectar, the drink of the gods. It's suppose to taste like you favorite foods, not...what ever you had."

I was trying to not pull up a nail from the porch to scratch my tongue with, "That would explain it. When I first got on the streets, I had gotten my hands on a moldy hamburger. It got me sicker than a dog, but it kept me alive. Almost all the food I ate were moldy, but I was grateful for them all the same."

Even if some tasted like shit...

I started to put the cards into a stack, "So the Greek gods are real, anything else I should know?" Before anyone could answer, I pressed my hands against the table, biting my lip to keep from crying out in pain.

I should probably explain this too. When I was on the streets, this would happen at least seven times a day.

Key word: At least.

Sometimes it would happen for what felt like a million times. It was always completely random, never happening at a certain time. Sometimes it would happen in the middle of lunch, other times I would wake up in the middle of the night, covered in a sweat from trying to not scream out.

Scat Cat knew a little bit about them, mainly because he walked in on me withering in pain. I only told him that I must have tweaked my muscle somehow, or that I was sore from fighting monsters, but he gave me that look that my mom would give me if she thought (or knew) I was lying.

I felt the pain come from different places at once. Some were on my back, others on my chest, and a few to my ribs. I could feel my body beginning to sweat a little from biting back screams. My teeth bit into my lip and soon I tasted blood on my tongue. I saw the same thing I saw every time this happened.

I'm in what would have been a living room if it wasn't covered in trash and beer bottles. If I was actually there, I knew it would reek of stale liquor. I heard soft crying and I turn to see a boy in the corner of the room.

The Boy looked like he was my age and was curled up in a ball as tears slid down his cheeks. But what was worse was the bruises that covered his body. The child continued to cry when he spoke, "Someone...please...if anyone can hear me...help me..."

I felt one last strike of pain hit my right ear, before it stopped. I sat there tense, waiting for another strike of pain to signify that it wasn't over.

Nothing....

Nothing...

Something touched my shoulder...

A screech found its way out of my mouth as I jumped out of my chair, landing on the floor in the process. I groaned, the impact sending waves of pain through my already aching body. "OW", I groaned, reminding myself of when Kevin Hart fell through the roof in Jumanji.