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Unforgiven: Chapter Three

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Part of The Unforgiven Series


I wanted a family. However, mine had been ripped apart. My father had left my mom when I was just three. When I was eight, my brother had left and never come back. Now my mother was gone too.

Luke had a family, but he didn't want it. It was so unfair.

That night, I had a dream of Luke. He was about fourteen or fifteen years old. He was sitting at camp, alone in his cabin, when there was a knock on the door.

"Ummm, Luke?" the boy asked cautiously. He was a year older or two than Luke. He had curly brown hair, but most of his features matched Luke's.

"What?" grumbled Luke.

"Sorry to disturb you, man. I know its hard. I mean, Thalia-"

"Don't talk about Thalia!" Luke's voice shook. I realized his eyes were puffy and red like he's been crying.

"Well anyways, you've got a package," the boy said meekly. He handed over a brown-wrapped box and left. Luke read the address and ttsked in disgust. He laid the package down on the bed and turned away. Then, as if he couldn't resist, he grabbed it in his hands and tore the paper off.

It was a shoe-box. He lifted the lid. Inside was a pair of shoes with wings. Luke looked in awe for a minute. Then his eyes drifted out the window to Thalia's tree. He shoved the shoe box roughly under the bed, laid down, and closed his eyes.

Mine opened. I had hoped that this was the Apollo cabin, and that the previous day had just been a bad dream. I hoped in vain.

My ears buzzed with cussing from some extremely loud Ares kids. I could tell this was going to be a very bad day.


"Get up, Punk!" screamed Clarisse. "It's your first day of wrestling and I want to see you get creamed!" I groaned.

"I feel sick," I complained.

"Too bad, sunshine-twerp," she snarled. Great, I thought sarcastically, a new nickname. I got out of bed and pulled on an orange Camp-Half Blood shirt and a pair of jeans. The jeans were too big and too long. I sighed. I pulled a brush through my untidy long, black hair. As soon as I found a pair of scissors, I promised myself, I would chop it to a more reasonable length. I took a quick glance in a mirror and frowned.

"Come ON, Punk!" screamed Clarisse. I followed the Ares kids out of the cabin. In the short walk to the Amphitheatre, I was pushed, shoved, punched, and tripped. My new clothes were muddy and torn. I did my best to keep myself from crying.

I don't even want to go into the details of wrestling. I was punched, pummeled, and squashed. Limping and breathing heavily, I followed my new cabinmates to the armory where we carried dozens of javelins for us to throw. I was pretty good at javelin throwing since it was a no-contact sport, (except for when I had to dodge Sherman's spear that was about to go through my head).

Lunch was embarrassing. Our table was right next to Apollo's, but the Ares kids beat me to the table first to make sure that I couldn't sit near my siblings. They also helped themselves to anything from my plate. I guess it had gotten around that I had kitchen duty that night, or else they always ate like pigs, but they dirtied as many plates as was humanly demigodly possible.

Besides an occasional glance of sympathy to me, Michael seemed to be having a good time with our siblings. Other campers ignored me or stared curiously. I caught Annabeth looking at me, but she quickly looked away and struck up eager conversation with one of her sisters.

I was even glad glad when we broke off for our activities. Rock climbing went well until both my feet slipped. I was left dangling as the kids below laughed. My limbs were too small to reach far-off rocks.

Finally, I had what I'd been waiting for. It was free time. I walked to the woods, hoping to see Thalia there. She wasn't. Looking around cautiously, I sat on the border line of camp. The smell of the grass, and the Pine tree, and the beautiful Golden Fleece caused my breath to become deeper and slower. The sun beat down in patches through the treetops, and there in the warmth I closed my eyes, let go of my senses, and fell asleep.

At first I thought I was still on Half-Blood Hill. I smelled grass, flowers, and magic. I opened my eyes in my dream. I was in a beautiful garden. It was so enchanting that for a moment I didn't see the enormous dragon sleeping at the base of a tree. The tree had beautiful golden apples.

Movement from the corner of my eye caused me to give it my full attention, though my heart ached to take my eyes off the garden. I saw the figure of a man, sneaking up to the tree. The man angered me. He did not belong. It ruined the peaceful stillness of the glowing garden. The man stepped into the light from the sunset. I gasped, though by now I had expected as much. By his looks, he was probably seventeen or eighteen. I shivered. This scene I was seeing was only two or three years old.

Luke drew his sword. The light from the celestial bronze caught his face. He had no scar. Suddenly, I realized how he had gotten his scar. I didn't want to see this. I heard a growl, and Luke's horrible scream...

My eyes fluttered open. It was perhaps only five minutes since I had fallen asleep. My heart beat frantically in my chest. What worried me most about my nightmare was that I had wanted to protect Luke. The traitor. Themurderer. I looked down at my arms; they were covered in goose bumps.

I stood up and brushed off my jeans. I needed to get away, to play a normal sport for once. I sprinted to the volleyball courts. Maria was there with a couple of her friends.

"Hey!" I called. "Can I play with you guys?"

Nobody 18:18, March 27, 2010 (UTC)

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