Chapter 29
Freya
I sat at the 16 person kitchen table gorging myself. But I was starving. The last time I ate like this I think I was still a kid? At least my grandma was happy, she had the kitchen in full swing making everything she could possibly come up with. She had even sent Alaric to the grocery store to get more food. I was working on my third spread of food wolfing down everything in front of me hoping at least the hunger pains would stop.
That's one problem I can handle.
Everything else I didn't know what I was going to do. My mother was adamant about not telling Cecilia about what happened. And I wanted to do what she said, I wanted to keep it a secret but it didn't feel right. If I had a baby I would want to know what happened to it. Did Poseidon kill it or give it away? Is he or she just out there alone in the world with no one to take care of it?
And even though the memories are painful they're mine. Just as Cecilia's is hers. Does anyone have the right to take them away? Am I being selfish by wanting her to remember? Or was my mother right?
I didn't know how to feel.
I knew I want Damon here... Just to sit with. To make me feel like everything was going to be okay even if it was just for a moment. Because I couldn't tell him, I shouldn't tell him.
Why would I put that on him? Why would I want to put that on Cecilia? She's been through enough.
My mother is right.
Why should I drag everyone else down in my misery. I made myself remember, it shouldn't be anyone else's burden. Besides, Damon already had enough problems with whatever the Brotherhood was making him do. Damon didn't need me adding on to the pile.
And I needed to get over my feelings because like it or not Poseidon was coming. I put down my bowl of rice and stared off blankly. Poseidon is coming.
I was going to have to be in the same room as Poseidon and act as if I didn't know anything he did to me
"IM BACK!" Alaric screamed. Poseidon was a problem for later. Right now, I needed food. I continued eating my feast.
"Did you get cooking oil?" My grandma asked in the kitchen.
"I'm going back", Alaric said dropping the bags and heading back out only to be told to come back in and get something to eat while there was something left. My grandmother told my grandpa to go get some cooking oil from their house.
Now working on a plate of eggs if I turn to see my grandpa give my nana a dirty stare before getting up from his rocking chair putting on a coat and heading out to their house. "Thank you".
"I'll be back", he yelled.
Alaric came and sat down next to me with a full stack of pancakes and a few strips of bacon. He stared and gasped,"Where do you put it all?"
My mouth was full of eggs but I got out,"My gut".
I had eaten everything my grandmother had put in front of me: pancakes, waffles, bacon, ham, eggs, bread, rice, muffins, cheese, chicken, ten pounds french fries and chicken nuggets, all of the fruit in the house, all of the cereal, deli meat, hotdogs, hamburgers, can goods and soups. I finished my eggs and stood up still not full. I walked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator to see it was empty only a container of baking soda and a jar of pickles was left. I ate the jar of pickles while I checked the freezer. It too was empty. I went into the pantry and saw the usually stocked shells were bare. The only thing left was plastic water bottles for emergencies.
