Ch. -1- Prologue
The two girls met on top of the hill, amid the multi-coloured leaves of late autumn, shivering against the coldness of the almost-winter feel in the air.
"Hey" said the one to the right as the two 12-year-olds started walking down the hill, their feet slapping against the cracked concrete sidewalk in perfect unison.
She was the tallest, with shiny black hair in a french-braid extending to her shoulder blades. Her school uniform was wrinkled, and one shoe was untied. Her name was Pandamilon, or Pan, Jones. Her sky blue eyes narrowed in concentration, brows furrowed, as she looked behind her, as if to make sure there was nothing behind them.
The one on the right nodded in return, head buried in a book. She had long tangled blond hair, the colour of the dead autumn grass in front of the houses they passed. Her sharp grey eyes, missing nothing, looked up and scrutinized her best friend for a moment before going back to her book. Then, speaking quietly asked, "They were fighting again, weren't they?"
Pan sighed, "Why can't i just go to Camp Half Blood already? I mean, really? Why should i keep on having to live with my dad and fake mother? I already know my real mother is Aphrodite, and yours Athena."
"Don't worry," murmered the other girl, Anne, engrossed in the object in her hands. "We'll get claimed soon enough."
Of course, the two seventh graders hadn't been claimed yet. They hadn't even been to Camp Half Blood. Somewhere in their minds, well, at least Anne's, there was that little bit of reason, of logic, that squeaked timidly, "You know that it's just a story, don't you?" The little bit of common sense was hushed up quickly, though. Smothered by hope.
Anne and Pan had heard the thought-to-be myth from Anne's cousin 2 yers ago. Both, especially Pan, who had a complicated home life full of shouting and broken plates, had embraced the idea whole heartedly, researching greek mythology on the internet and in dusty libraries, fantasizing about what god or goddess would be their parent.
Pan agreed, and the two friends walked toward school, making idle chatter, Pan walking in front. The two were inseprable, two peas ina pod, the perfect match. Pan was obviously the ring leader, it was more of her personality. But it suited Anne fine, as she was the more shy, quiet type. At school, you could find them always together,talking about Greek mythology. People began to just think of them as a pair. Pan and Anne. Anne and Pan. But unlike some people, they enjoyed the reputation. I guess that's why everyone was so surprised when 2 months from then, in December right after Anne's 13th birthday, Pan showed up alone. When people asked, she said she didn't know where her best friend was. Like she had dissapeared overnight.
After a day or two, there were investigations. There was no sign of a struggle anywhere near her house. The police eventually gave up the possibility of kidnap. There was a background check of her also yellow-haired, grey-eyed dad, as her mother had been absent since she was a baby, but no evidence was found of any trouble. After a month or two, the case was closed, the state saying that she had probably run away and that she would turn up soon. She didn't. No, Anne didn't return until late August 2 years after she dissapeared. Her dad had moved away. She apeared at the door of a black-haired teen at the dead of night, tired and bloody, an apology on her lips and a favor to ask. To be foregived.
The two girls met on top of the hill, amid the multi-coloured leaves of late autumn, shivering against the coldness of the almost-winter feel in the air.
"Hey" said the one to the right as the two 12-year-olds started walking down the hill, their feet slapping against the cracked concrete sidewalk in perfect unison.
She was the tallest, with shiny black hair in a french-braid extending to her shoulder blades. Her school uniform was wrinkled, and one shoe was untied. Her name was Pandamilon, or Pan, Jones. Her sky blue eyes narrowed in concentration, brows furrowed, as she looked behind her, as if to make sure there was nothing behind them.
The one on the right nodded in return, head buried in a book. She had long tangled blond hair, the colour of the dead autumn grass in front of the houses they passed. Her sharp grey eyes, missing nothing, looked up and scrutinized her best friend for a moment before going back to her book. Then, speaking quietly asked, "They were fighting again, weren't they?"
Pan sighed, "Why can't i just go to Camp Half Blood already? I mean, really? Why should i keep on having to live with my dad and fake mother? I already know my real mother is Aphrodite, and yours Athena."
"Don't worry," murmered the other girl, Anne, engrossed in the object in her hands. "We'll get claimed soon enough."
Of course, the two seventh graders hadn't been claimed yet. They hadn't even been to Camp Half Blood. Somewhere in their minds, well, at least Anne's, there was that little bit of reason, of logic, that squeaked timidly, "You know that it's just a story, don't you?" The little bit of common sense was hushed up quickly, though. Smothered by hope.
Anne and Pan had heard the thought-to-be myth from Anne's cousin 2 yers ago. Both, especially Pan, who had a complicated home life full of shouting and broken plates, had embraced the idea whole heartedly, researching greek mythology on the internet and in dusty libraries, fantasizing about what god or goddess would be their parent.
Pan agreed, and the two friends walked toward school, making idle chatter, Pan walking in front. The two were inseprable, two peas ina pod, the perfect match. Pan was obviously the ring leader, it was more of her personality. But it suited Anne fine, as she was the more shy, quiet type. At school, you could find them always together,talking about Greek mythology. People began to just think of them as a pair. Pan and Anne. Anne and Pan. But unlike some people, they enjoyed the reputation. I guess that's why everyone was so surprised when 2 months from then, in December right after Anne's 13th birthday, Pan showed up alone. When people asked, she said she didn't know where her best friend was. Like she had dissapeared overnight.
After a day or two, there were investigations. There was no sign of a struggle anywhere near her house. The police eventually gave up the possibility of kidnap. There was a background check of her also yellow-haired, grey-eyed dad, as her mother had been absent since she was a baby, but no evidence was found of any trouble. After a month or two, the case was closed, the state saying that she had probably run away and that she would turn up soon. She didn't. No, Anne didn't return until late August 2 years after she dissapeared. Her dad had moved away. She apeared at the door of a black-haired teen at the dead of night, tired and bloody, an apology on her lips and a favor to ask. To be foregived.
last edited Больше года
