Selena's POV

I gasped as I looked at the corpse that laid sprawled on the floor, the corpse that used to be my mother. I cried out in shock and fear, stumbling towards her as I stared in her lifeless eyes with a tear that escaped before she was killed. My father stood just behind me, a gun in his hand, with his finger still on the trigger.

It didn't take long for me to comprehend what happened. "You murderer!" I screamed. I cried in anger and flung myself at my father, flailing my fists around in an effort to hurt him, just as he had hurt my mother. He shoved me onto the floor, a scowl on his face. Yet, he was crying as well, tears streaming down his cheeks as his lips trembled with sadness. But no mercy showed in his eyes.

"How could you do this to Mama? HOW COULD YOU?!" I shrieked. He didn't reply, letting out a shaky breath. "I hate you, Papa. This is all your fault!" I cried. It seemed like I had finally cracked him. Anger showed on his used-to-be emotionless face, slamming the gun onto the floor so hard it formed a dent.

"If anyone's fault, this is yours!" He screamed. "I never wanted to have you, you know. You were just an accident! Now, I can barely the pay the rent without you complaining about our shabby living conditions and the first thing I do to fix that," He paused, glaring at me. "You come and yell at me more. It seems like nothing I ever do is right!" At this point, he seemed to be yelling at himself more than me.

"I killed your mother for you! For the money, so that you won't starve!" He cried. "I killed your mother for what? For a mistake?!" He stormed towards me and punched me right in the jaw, causing my face to explode in pain. His voice held so much anger and pain that it scared me, terrified me. "J-Just leave me alone!" I begged. He picked up his gun, his hand shaking as he rested his finger on the trigger. Panicking, I backed away from him.

"LEAVE. ME. ALONE!" I shrieked. Suddenly, the glass from our windows shattered instantly, flying towards my father. He cried in agony as glass pieces pelted him from all angles. I watched in fear as he came down onto his knees, blood flowing all over the floor that my knees were stained red. All of a sudden, there was only silence.

"Papa..?" I asked cautiously. I walked over to him, careful to keep my distance. His eyes seemed to bulge out from his head, his fingers slack as the gun rolled off his hand. His chest wasn't moving, but I was too scared to check his pulse. "Papa!" I cried. Silence. I stared at my hands, which were shaking from fear. Fear of myself. Dried blood remained on it, and it sickened me to think that it was from my parents.

Had I just murdered someone?

~•~

I cried out in panic, flying upwards. Percy was already awake, staring at me as I clenched my fists to try and hide the uncontrollable shaking. He raised an eyebrow. "Nightmare?" Percy asked. I hesitated, surprised at how quickly he guessed.

"How did you know?" I asked. He shrugged calmly. "My first clue was the cry, actually," He mocked. I glared at him, but it did lighten my spirits to see him joking around. Suddenly, a realization came to my mind. "Did you have a nightmare as well?" I asked. He looked at me so fast that I was afraid his head might've flew off his neck. That was my answer.

"Well, what was your nightmare about?" I said. Percy paused, before he finally agreed to share it. "I... I was falling down a bottomless pit, except this time, I was alone," He explained. "T-There was this dark, shadowy figure... with- with really scary golden eyes, and he said, 'You will pay for your crimes, Percy Jackson. You and the Reborn.'"

He looked at me, as if trying to see how I'd react. "Who's the Reborn?" I asked. He shrugged, his face buried in his hands. "I- All I know is that I have to get back to my friends," He said. "I have to warn them." I frowned, confused. "Whoa, hold up. Warn them about what?" I exclaimed. "I'll tell you, after we break out of here," He promised.

"That's going to be never," I complained. "Fine, you wanna know why I have to warn my friends about my dream?" He asked. "Um, yeah, that's what I asked you about," I snorted.

"It's because he's a demigod, of course," Someone interjected. Both of them jerked up, looking towards the front. Standing there was the man behind their capture, holding a wand in his hand.

Voldemort.