Claire Badger is a suicidal demigod. Nothing has gone right for her. In her last week before her planned suicide, she writes a blog. A very random one explaining why she's doing this. But might something happen before this dreadful day that changes her life forever? (Based off an original fiction story that sucked and I started years ago. It's been discontinued. Also, this thing is pretty much those blogs.) TATN / Thalia! 05:39, March 26, 2010 (UTC)
One, My Life So Far
Today is exactly one week before my attempt at suicide.
For any of you that care, this is my last week of life.
Before I get started on why I'm doing this, I might as well tell you who I am.
My name is Claire Badger. I am thirteen years old. I live in New York, New York. I have ADHD and dyslexia.
Now, I'm going to attempt, no, execute this because my life is like a hurricane.
Horrible. Disastrous. Painful. Sad.
I've been beaten by my mother and step-father many times. It doesn't hurt any more.
I've been bullied over and over and over. Senselessly. Beaten by my classmates, my peers. The people I'm supposed to trust.
I've self-harmed, cutting myself, scratching myself until I bleed, and biting myself. Just for the pain.
If you think your life is bad. Sit back and listen to mine.
Last time I cut myself-- with a really sharp pencil sharpener blade-- my mum had taken me to the hospital.
It'd been for a good reason though. My brother, twin to be exact, has done things to me that I can hardly explain without crying.
Trust me, I try to fit in. But I don't. That's the thing. Now I'm that freaky girl who wears leather and hangs out with mostly imaginary friends.
It's not my fault that no one likes me.
But really, I do try. Don't believe me? You're an A-hole.
So, I finished my blog and got off the computer, being sure to sign it. I didn't put my real name, just Claire B.
My mum calling me again and again and again. Just so I could help her make a bowl of pasta.
Jackie, my mum, is--was-- a very nice lady. Her life spiralled downwards when she got pregnant with twins (Corey and I), got dumped by our father, and was only seventeen.
Her parents were totally PO'd by the fact that their perfect family daughter had gotten pregnant at only seventeen and disowned her. She tells us she ran away.
Mum lived with some redneck family for a few years until Corey and I were born. She hunted down my dad who was a very violent man but never found him.
She searched him up in the phone-book, on the internet, and everywhere else imaginable. No results. It was as if my father had blown off the face of the Earth.
Mum married some redneck, her technical foster-brother, and they've had no kids. My step-dad... Is a drunk to say the least.
Just like my brother, he's done indescribable things to me. Emotional and physical abuse.
Ever since my mother's horrible experience as a teen, she's been down on her luck.
I guess it runs in the family.
My grandmother, maternal, married a really nasty guy. Even though I never met her the stories my mum told me before she fell for Tim have been dreadful.
I never really call my step-dad dad. I call him Tim. His name.
Any ways, I made the pasta for my mum and she split it with Tim. I trudged back upstairs, back to safety.
I opened my door (more like closet) and flopped down on my tiny bed. I dozed off, reading what little I could gather from a book I pretty much hated.
I was near sleep, so near sleep it was painful when someone lightly shook my shoulder. Their touch felt nice.
Was I dead? Had I died? My dream had finally come true, without pain.
"Claire... Claire?" A frightening male voice asked. I opened my eyes. Before me stood an older teenage boy. He was clad in dark jeans, a black T-shirt, and a leather jacket.
He smelt of fear, all the things that frightened me. But he was undeniably the most handsome boy I'd ever seen.
"Who are you?" I stammered, sitting up and gasping, hitting my head on a shelf.
"Claire, please hurry. I've got your family occupied for now... it won't last long. Come with me. I'll explain it all later, I promise." He tugged at my hand.
I got up, hurrying behind him. At first, I thought it was a normal thing. I mean, what if this guy was my brother? He could be.
After I saw his ride, my view changed. Tinted windows and a sleek black paint? Yeah right I was going to see the next sunrise.
But still, I got into the car and sat in the back, like he'd ordered. Out of my house, where I could hear screaming, came another boy who looked almost exactly like the guy at the wheel.
Corey followed him.
The two clambered into the car, making me the only girl in there. I felt oddly uncomfortable.
"Corey, Claire..." Corey's boy started, in a voice exactly like my guy's. "You two are demigods."
"What the hell is that?" Corey blurted in that semi-arrogant tone that made my blood boil.
"You two have heard the Greek myths right?"
The car rumbled to a start and peeled away from the house, speeding much too fast over the speed limit.
"They're real, kid. And you know the gods? You know how they used to have kids with mortals all the time? They still do. You two are the result of that."
"Mum would never-"
The boy that had lead Corey out turned and looked us straight in the eyes. I felt so afraid I nearly passed out. When every thing was quiet except for the traffic (which I was used to) and the car, I fell asleep, brain processing all this new information and checking if it was just me being gullible.
Two, I'm Such An Idiot
The morning was quite eventful. I woke up to the brothers talking. At least, I presumed they were brothers because of their likeness in appearance. They were whispering. I heard my name once.
"Good morning," I murmured, voice thick with sleep.
"Good morning, Claire." The first brother, the driver one, smiled.
"Can I ask you two something?" I wondered aloud, being an idiot.
"Shoot." The two said the same time.
"What're your names?"
They exchanged wary glances. The two went dead silent. Thinking this was no for the answer, I stared out the window. We were on some grass field.
Stupid brothers these were, parking on some field. There were probably children playing around us. I continued to stare and noted that it was a drearily dark and gloomy day.
I told the two boys I needed some fresh air (which I badly did). Driver-boy took me out for a walk while Passenger-boy stayed to babysit an asleep Corey.
"So..." Driver-Boy started as we walked around a forest. "Are you feeling okay?"
"I feel fine, peachy keen. I was just in need of a small walk to get my blood flowing again. And that car is getting a bit stuffy." I chuckled nervously.
"By the way, my name is Deimos."
I went silent for a too-long pause. "Does that mean you're the son of Ares and Aphrodite?"
Deimos nodded. "Phobos thought it best that you and Corey didn't know about us. For some inexplicable reason. I've not got a clue why."
"Don't come looking at me for answers. I know nothing of the male psychology. Men are difficult." I shook my head, closing my eyes.
"Women are impossible." Deimos copied me.
We shared a decent conversation. It was fairly entertaining. However, later in the day, when I caught Deimos changing his shirt, I noticed deep scars on his back.
There's a side of Deimos I don't know.
I probably never want to know it.
Digressing, I continued my suicide blog, even though my life was a tad better. I was still planning on going through with this. I wrote again, not wanting to be caught up in a mess of flames.
Today was an all right day. I've been taken away by some family, distant family. Like my fourth cousins or something, I can't really remember.
Any ways, since being removed, I've been a bit happier. But not happy enough.
I'm still around Corey and he still yells at me. There's this weight on my shoulders that is pushing me down. The further I go, the more I can't wait for the five days to come.
The thought of tasting a bullet or feeling a noose brings me joy. More, apprehension.
It leaves me thinking each time. Would any one care if I was dead?
I know the answer is probably not, but these cousins are really nice. I bet they would care.
Sorry all who read this about the small entry. I have limited time on my iTouch. And I can hardly type LOL.
"Claire! Corey! get your butts over here!" I heard Phobos call from somewhat afar. I put away my iTouch and ran towards my saviour.