Percy Jackson

The worst news I've ever received is that Medusa's victims regenerate and come back to life when she does the next time.

Which we found out when Grover's Uncle, Ferdinand, showed up. He didn't know what was going on, so Chiron and Mr. D explained it us and how the head will still work even after she's been regenerated, essentially, but when she comes back again? So will they.

So Grover had his uncle again, which was great. He had so much to tell him. About how he got his license and he found pan and he did all this stuff and now he's like the Lord of Wild and he loves it. His amazing life.

We have one phone in the camp that can receive calls. It's the only one that's allowed, and it's the business number for the strawberry farm. Parents are told not to call if unless there's an emergency and there's no drachmas with them.

An actual emergency. We get like two calls a summer. Maybe? Usually because somebody is either dying or something financial like they're losing their home or something.

But then my mom called. Which never happens. My mom writes to me, we talk that way in the summer. Paul would, too. He's gone for a while, on a vacation with some friends for like a month or two. He does it every year, Mom never minds because she gets the house to herself for a while and then it keeps conversations fresh between them. Mom went with last year, but Estelle is too little and he almost didn't go but Mom insisted.

I didn't know what was said on the call, but they told me after lunch that I should go home, something sounded wrong.

It was probably nothing, but since she's just in the city, it's better safe than sorry since Paul isn't home right now and Estelle is there. I just would go in alone. It's my mom's apartment, nothing can be that bad if I have Riptide.

When Chiron and Mr. D told us about Medusa, my brain didn't think about it. It didn't connect the dots right away.

But I got to the apartment and there was an extra pair of shoes at the door. They weren't Paul's size. They were smaller. And I could hear Estelle crying. Somebody else. A guy.

So I kept Riptide in my hand and walked back to see who the fuck made my baby sister cry. She's literally 6 months old, that's not right.

It pissed me off more than anything.

The sound came from my mom's room, which wasn't reassuring because my mom wasn't soothing her.

My mom was knocked out on the bed with her pants and underwear pulled down, which I already didn't need to see and didn't ever want to see. That's for Paul, not me.

But she was tied to the bed. Well, cuffed. Her wrist was uh... It was like pink and it looked really tight and she had scratch marks on her and it didn't look like... I mean, she looked like she was trying to pull out of the cuffs, which is what cuffs are made to fight. They get tighter. A broken beer bottle was on the floor.

I hate that I could identify the beer that was open by it's smell. That he was drinking Brewmeister Armageddon.

I didn't want to, but I knew the only way anyone would believe me was with a photo, so I took one. And he was sitting at the edge of the bed, smoking a cigar, drinking. Definitely drunk. Estelle was crying and he yelled at her because she wanted Mom to wake up.

And I froze because he saw me. He knew it was me. And he probably knew I wasn't supposed to be home. I normally wouldn't be home.

Gabe recognized me.

"What are you doing here, you useless piece of shit?"

And just like that, he surfaced my anxiety.

I froze, I could speak.

"Answer me!" Gabe yelled and it made me jump. It scared me.

Riptide can't do anything to him. It's useless.

He stood up and put his cigar down, ruining the carpet with it. That's where he put it out.

And then he took a nice, long swig of his beer. He finished it off.

Then he took one step. Which was followed by another. And another. And then one last one.

I was screaming at myself, mentally, to run. To take Estelle and get the fuck out. To call the police.

But he spit on me.

And then he broke a bottle over my head and just like that, he was able to control me because he still had that power. He still knew how to use me. And he did.

First he broke my phone, because he knew I took that photo.

Suddenly, he had a fistful of my hair and I closed my eyes, because my chest was swollen. My lungs lost their purpose. My heart didn't know what to do with itself.

"Open your eyes." He told me, moving me to my room and putting me again the wall. And I did it, because he told me to.

"I always said you were a beautiful boy," Gabe told me, which... It sounded so wrong in a lot of ways. "people always said that about you. That you were beautiful. Just like your daddy was, apparently. And they were right. You became a beautiful young man."

I could feel his breath on my face, and it almost made me cry. I was tearing up.

"Oh, come on, don't cry." He remarked and I felt my button became undone. My zipper go down.

Without my consent.

"It ruins the mood."

All he's in right now is his boxers and I don't...I couldn't think, I could speak.

I couldn't move. I was paralyzed in fear.

Because I felt his mouth on my dick and when he turned me around and forced himself inside and I couldn't fucking... I mean, I had an anxiety attack about half way through.

He didn't pull out of my ass when he came, he just did it. Right in my ass.

And then, after that, he pulled out pulled up his pants and threatened that if I told anyone about what just happened or anything I saw, he'd make sure my mom and Estelle wouldn't live to see another day. That I wouldn't, either.

That he's not gone and he won't be for a very long time.