literature

Birthday Detour

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Life can be so stupidly complicated sometimes.

And not just because there are a million monsters out there who all want to rearrange my face (although that is a major problem).

I’ll start from the beginning.

I was waiting for the subway to take me to my home in the Upper East Side early morning on February sixteenth. Hayden’s lavender bag hung on my arm and in it was a hot pink gift bag that held the birthday present for my sister, Alana.

You see, even though my parents and we weren’t always together, they would always insist that we spent birthdays and holidays together, no matter what. It was their way of making up for lost time, and I didn’t mind spending a day or two out of school.

All of my closest friends knew when my birthday was and had given me my presents early. I got a CD of the greatest 258 classic rock songs from Leo, a 46 golden drachma gift certificate for the camp store from Lou Ellen and Nyssa, and a new CD player from Will (the last one broke in a tragic archery incident. Even Lacy sent me a tube of green hair dye from Brookline. I promptly used the dye to streak color into my hair. It made it look like my hair was covered in seaweed, and no doubt Drew would make fun of me once she saw me, but I didn’t care. I thought it looked pretty awesome.

The week before, Leo helped me make Alana’s gift. A pink (ew) sign for her room back at St. Catherine’s that had the room number on it and a small chalkboard attached at the bottom with a tray to hold chalk and an eraser. I didn’t want to bother Leo with the project, but he insisted that helping me would be a piece of cake.

“Besides,” he said. “I don’t trust you around power tools. You’ll probably stab your eye out.”

“Thanks, Leo,” I said. “You’re awesome.”

He flashed me that wicked grin of his. “Yeah. I know.”

Anyway, as I was waiting for the train, I was staring down at the train tracks and remembered how my old friends from school and I used to have spitting contest on the tracks. Yeah, yeah. I know, it’s totally gross, but you have to make your own fun sometimes. It was so immature, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss those days. I was looking forward to seeing my old friends again.

There weren’t as many people waiting for the subway as there usually were this day, just a couple of tourist, a few business people, some college kids, and a scraggly lady who had the world’s largest collection of tin cans.

There was something unsettling about Can Lady. She was giving everyone around her the stink eye and in turn, everyone stayed about ten feet away from her. She had stringy hair the color of moldy bread, and crazed eyes like a wild cat.

The homeless lady and I locked eyes, and instead of yelling and picking a fight with me or asking me for money (what would usually happen if you make eye contact with the homeless of New York), she smiled, showing off her sharp fangs.

Sharp fangs?

I froze. Slowly, I risked a glancing back in her direction. She was still staring hungrily at me. Clearly, she was a monster, but I couldn’t fight her now, not with all of the mortals around. They could get hurt in the crossfire, and I’d get sent to jail and charged with murdering a homeless woman for my fifteenth birthday.

The monster wasn’t attacking yet like she was waiting for the chance to strike. I didn’t know if the monster would attack me in front of the mortals or not, but I didn’t want to risk it. I decided to leave the station and hail a cab.

The train pulled in and everyone boarded in the usual manner of pushing and cutting in front of each other.

I was about to leave when suddenly I felt a beefy clawed hand grabbed the back of my neck.

“Leaving so soon?” The monster chuckled into my ear. Her claws dug into my neck, no doubt drawing blood.

I elbowed the monster in the gut with all of my strength. The monster let go of me in shock and howled in indignation. No…not howl. It was a roar, a sound I was all too familiar with. It was the roar of a lion.

I unsheathed my sword and brandished it at the Sphinx. The she-beast glared and swiped at me with her claws so fast I barely had time to dodge the attack with my sword. I feigned to the right, then quickly moved to roll out of the way, but the Sphinx anticipated the trick and pounced on me, and too late I realized that we were too close to the tracks.

We plummeted onto the subway tracks. The shield of Achilles strapped to my back softened my fall somewhat. My sword flew out of my hands, and my head hit the ground. My vision blackening for a moment. The only thing I was aware of was the two hundred pounds of fur and flannel trying to crush me.

My head was spinning. There was screaming above from the mortals, but I barely registered what they were saying.

I forced myself to focus on the monster in front of me. She smelt like she never took a bath a day in her life, the ungodly combination of raw meat and sewer pipes.

Claws dug into my shoulders, and I grunted in pain. The Sphinx laughed. For a moment, I thought to myself, wow, this would be a lousy way to die: eaten alive on the subway tracks while mortals take pictures on their smartphones, post them on the internet, and make my death a meme.

I kneed the monster right in the stomach with enough force to break a rib (don’t ask how I know that). The monster recoiled in pain and I was able to push her off of me. I jumped up, grabbed Hayden’s bag and my sword—

Then I heard a low rumbling sound that was unmistakable: the noise of an oncoming train.

I looked around frantically for a way out. There were some steps, but they were behind the Sphinx and too far to reach in time. The subway was speeding on its way, so I did what I did best: I ran.

I sprinted down the tracks with a Sphinx and the train in hot pursuit. The Sphinx was calling out profanities and promises of eating me whole.

Strangely enough, I wasn’t tempted to stop.

“Run all you want, demigod!” she called. “But I will catch you, and I will—”

She yelped, and with a ba-bump, the Sphinx’s hammy speech was cut short.

Well that was one problem solved. Now all I had to do was outrun a machine that clocks in at fifty-five miles an hour. No biggie.

I poured on the speed, running faster than I’ve ever had before. I smelled smoke, and later I realized it was coming from the friction of my jeans. My bones became like jelly. My vision doubled and tripled and quadrupled. I was on fire.

Eventually, the sound of the train grew softer, and I saw a light at the end of the tunnel. I prayed I wasn’t dying and ran faster.

I made it to the next terminal. I waved my hands and shouted for help. My voice sounded tinny in my ears.

With the help of some of the mortals, I was pulled out and onto the platform. The roar in my ears drowned out all their questions. I barely registered the woosh of the train as it barreled past me.

I knew the Sphinx wouldn’t be out of commission for long. Getting run over most likely just pissed her off, so she’ll be extra furious once she recovered and found me. I needed to be long gone before then.

I thanked the mortals who helped me and left the station as quickly as possible.

I didn’t get far before slumping against a building and tried to catch my breath. My heart was still pounding a million beats a second. My skin streamed in the crisp, cool air. I stared down at the sidewalk and waited for it to stop spinning.

Suddenly, a shadow loomed over me, and a voice said, “You’re looking well.”

I knew that voice. I looked up, and even through my fuzzy vision, I could recognize who the voice belonged to.

"H…Hedylogo?” I wheezed. “Wha-but how..."

"I see that you're as eloquent as ever."

If I had the energy, I would’ve rolled my eyes. But instead, I collapsed forward and would have hit the pavement if Hedylogos didn’t catch me.

The last thing I remember before blacking out was the feeling of weightlessness.

~*~

When I came to, I was somewhere I’ve never been before.

I sat up and inspected the room. It was a rather nice looking living room with a view of Manhattan through the large windows. A lush red rug sat on hardwood floors; a bonsai tree was placed on a coffee table next to a book with a symbol on it that kinda looked like a bird on fire. The flat screen TV was on and turned to MTV. All in all, not the worse place to wake up in, but I couldn’t get too comfortable. For all, I knew this could be some sort of trap—

“Boo.”

I jumped out of my skin. Hedylogos was walking towards the couch with a box of pizza. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“You hungry?” he asked, laughing under his breath.

I nodded. “I could eat an entire giant crab.”

“I hope you can settle for pizza.” He sat across from me on the sofa and placed the box of Lonardo’s pizza on the coffee table.

I inhaled three slices before I remembered that I should probably breathe.

“Thank you,” I said. “You have no idea how badly I needed this.”

“Don’t mention it. I brought you here right after you fainted—”

“Can we just say I passed out? Fainting sounds a little melodramatic.”

“Fine. After you passed out, I brought you here and gave you a little nectar to keep you from burning to ashes.”

I gulped. “I hope you meant that figuratively.”

Hedylogos looked at me like I was a bit off my rocker (which, if I’m being perfectly honest, I am). “How would I mean that figuratively?”

I shrugged. “You got me there.”

He shook his head. “How did you end up like that, anyway?”

I told him everything that’s happened to me today, from Alana’s birthday to being chased on the subway track by an over the top Sphinx. Hedylogos was a good listener, but I felt nervous under his gaze.

“Sounds like you had a busy morning,” he said.

“Ha!” I took another bite out of my pizza. “So you live here?”

“Sometimes.”

“But didn’t Zeus lock down Olympus? Shouldn’t you be under house arrest with the rest of the gods?”

“Since that little quest by your camp,” Hedylogos explained, “the minor gods have a little more wiggle room than the Olympians. Even when Olympus was shut down, some of us non-Olympians had some leeway. Iris was still able to tend to her little hippy shop in Mendocino, Ganymede still had to go buy wine for Zeus, and I’m sure Eros was out and about being pretentious and preachy. Anyway, after a while, Olympus became a little… claustrophobic. So that’s why I’m spending some time here.”

“Oh… cool,” The thought of a god rented out an apartment part-time was strange to me, even with all the strangeness I’ve encountered. I didn’t really know how to respond, so instead, I asked, “So, uh, what time is it?”

“About nine o’clock.”

I nearly gagged on a piece of pepperoni. “Nine o’clock? I’m supposed to be home by ten.”

“What, is that your curfew?”

“No, I—” I glared at him. “Noooo, I’m supposed to be home for my sister’s birthday.”

“Relax,” he said, and the command was powerful enough to make me want to curl up and take a nap. “After the stunt you pulled, you need to rest up. I promise you won’t be late to the party.”

I hesitated. I didn’t exactly distrust the love god, but I knew that there’s no such thing as a free meal. The last time he fed me, I ended up chased by a dozen crazed ladies with self-esteem issues, stealing a cab, blowing up the cab, and flying off the handle in an almost unstoppable.

“I’m fine now,” I said, which was mostly true. I still had a minor headache and I could smell burnt toast, but nothing major. “But you have a chore for me, don’t you?”

Hedylogos blinked. “Huh?”

“You have that look, the ‘I-want-to-ask-but-I-don’t-know-how-to’ look.”

He shifted in his seat and looked slightly embarrassed. “Well…”

“Knew it.”

He gave me a pointed look. “You’re a regular Oracle of Delphi, aren’t you? Anyway, I do need a favor from you. It’s nothing big, I promise.”

“It’s not like I can deny a request from a god now, can I? Plus you fed me, so I’m obligated by the Code of Honor What it is?”

“I need you to find my hairbrush.”

He said it so seriously, I couldn’t help but laugh. Then I noticed the look on his face. He was dead serious.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“That’s it?”

“Yes.”

“Your hairbrush?” I tried really hair to suppress my smirk and not burst into certain song about a similar situation.

He huffed, and I couldn’t help but noticed that he was kinda cute when he was upset. “Yes. I need help looking for my hairbrush. Are we clear now?”

I thought about the simple request. I couldn’t see the catch to this, and I didn’t really see the harm in helping him find his hairbrush.

“They don’t teach us hairbrush finding techniques at camp,” I said, “but I think I can handle it. How hard can it be to find a stinkin’ hair brush?”

~*~

I couldn’t just shut my big fat mouth up for one second, could I?

Hedylogos brought me my sword and led me to the roof of his apartment. At first, I was confused. Why would I need my sword and why the heck would his hairbrush be on the roof?

The questions became a bit clearer when I saw that the roof was Pack Rat Central.

There were mountains of books and magazines piled everywhere. Empty cans of sardines, tennis shoes, plotted plants, little plastic water guns, a television older than me, beepers, radios, dumbbells, and who knows what else were littered all over the place.

Towards the center of the roof was a hut made up of various stolen bricks and cement blocks. An umbrella was situated at the top like a spire on a skyscraper.

The look on my face must have been something, because Hedylogos looked at me funny and said, “You all right there, Bright Eyes?

I blinked. My face was feeling warm. "What?"

“You don't like the nickname I gave you?” he asked, then shrugged. “Huh. Most girls do.”

I was definitely blushing now. I’d forgotten how Hedylogos and his stupid love god aura made me feel before. I felt embarrassed, happy, and jealous all at the same time.

“I’m fine,” I said quickly. “I’m just wondering what’s the nicest way to tell you that your roof is atrocious.”

“It’s not my fault!” he protested. “It’s the harpy who lives up here.”

“What, is she your pet?”

“No! She was just out here one day trying to escape from the rain and… I felt a little bad for her so I gave her an umbrella. Ever since then she hasn’t left. She’s just been up there collecting more and more stolen items. And somewhere in this mess is my hairbrush.”

I stared at him then back at the roof. “How do you know that it’s here in the first place?”

“The harpy that lives here is a worse klepto than most. She takes things she doesn’t even need.” He pointed towards a pile of mess, slightly bigger than the rest. “She has a lawnmower up here!”

“Why would she need a lawnmower when she lives on the roof?”

He gave me another funny look. “You’re missing the point. Why would she need a lawnmower when she lives in New York?”

“Oh, of course. Forgive my shortsightedness. But why can’t you just poof a new one out of fat air? You’re a god.”

Hedylogos grimaced. “It was a gift from my mother, Aphrodite. How else do you think I get the perfectly-tousled-but-not-too-messy hairstyle I usually have?”

His hair seemed fine to me, but something told me that bringing that up wouldn’t make him let go of such a minor problem.

“Fine,” I said. “But if you know that the harpy took it, why don’t you just go get it and get rid of her for good?”

He frowned. “She won’t be gone for long with the doors of death open; she’ll just end up coming back here and stealing more of my things. Besides, these kinds of things are what heroes are for.”

“Hey! We’re not the gods’ exterminators.”

(Actually, the more I think about it, we were kinda were… damn.)

“I’m not saying you have to kill her,” Hedylogos said. “Just get my brush back and make sure she doesn’t steal any more of my stuff.”

I sighed. “All right. I’ll be back. With your hairbrush.”

Hedylogos handed me the key to his apartment for when I returned. I took it and stalked toward the mess. I couldn't help but think that of the two times I've been called on, both have been from minor love gods. Percy had been on multiple quests, some from a couple Olympians themselves. I pushed my petty jealousy aside and reminded myself that that was a competition I didn't really want to win.

I looked at the mess that lay in front of me and took a deep breath. When in doubt, I thought, start in the center.

~*~

I was careful to avoid stepping on anything that would alert the harpy to my presence, but that was easier said than done. One wrong step and a hidden bear trap could take of my foot, or I'd step on a dog's squeaky chew toy and lose the element of surprise.

Along the way there were more random objects that seemed too large to steal discreetly, like small pink plastic Barbie cars, ceiling fans, and, I kid you not, an entire jungle gym. How the heck she was able to steal an entire jungle gym, I don’t know.

I crept closer and closer to the hut, as silent as a shadow, but I never made it there. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a blur of brown and purple flying straight towards me. I barely had time to duck when the harpy lashed out with her talons, slicing my shoulder. I swore in pain and swung my sword in an arc. The blade successfully caught her in the wing.

The harpy shrieked, and fluttered away towards her hut, leaving a trail of feathers and golden blood.

I followed her to her hut. Inside, it was the size of a studio apartment, with more stolen goodies inside; an ancient bathtub filled with more sardine cans, a few dozen pots and pans, another pile of magazines, and three flat screens that sat side by side to create the ultimate wide screen TV.

I spotted the harpy licking her wounds on a couch made of tires. I noticed that she had a tool belt around her plump waist that held things that weren’t tools: Barbie dolls, chewing gum, a Wii remote, and a gold-encrusted blue hair brush that glowed faintly. The hairbrush!

When she saw me, she squawked in fear and picked up the nearest item next to her to use as a weapon– a crooked wire hanger.

Looking at the harpy who was clearly terrified, I felt kinda bad for her. I guess I felt a little guilty, too, going after a monster that hasn't done anything to me. In all fairness, monsters went after demigods all the time for the sole purpose of eating them, but the harpy hadn't been doing that. Besides, harpies (usually) were mostly harmless. The ones at camp weren't too bad; you just had to keep them well fed and not get on their bad side.

“I’m sorry for hurting you,” I said softly. “Listen, I just want to talk to you. I’ll put my sword down, okay? So there’s no need to beat me with a wire hanger.”

I dropped my sword and picked up a Kung Fu Panda band-aid box. I offered it to her as a peace offering.

The harpy looked at me skeptically then at the band-aid box in my hand. After a moment, she took it.

“T-thank you,” she said softly, applying the band-aids.

“You’re welcome, uh…”

“Harpo.”

I frowned. “Huh?”

“My name. It’s Harpo.”

“Harpo the harpy?”

Harpo looked at me confused like she didn’t understand why I was confused. “Yeah?”

“It’s just…” I shook my head. “Never mind. It’s not important.”

“So,” Harpo said carefully, “are you here to steal my things?

“No! …well actually—”

“I knew it!” she said like I confirmed her worse thoughts. “Well, you can’t have anything! I stole it, which means it belongs to me now, so you can’t have it.”

“Oookay, troll logic aside, I’m only here for something you’ve stolen from the god who lives here. His name is—”

“Hedylogos. Yes, I know him. And I think I know what you want.”

“You do? That's good. So why don't you just give me–”

“You can't have it!” She barked so suddenly, I jumped. “You think if you get his hair brush back he'll love you?”

My cheeks burned. "Love? No, I–"

You're just another girl of his that comes and goes. He'll have another pretty girl in there next month. But I'll be patient. Eventually, he'll find out that he loves me back.”

A few things went through my mind at the moment. First that Hedylogos had other girls in his apartment made me feel… I don’t know. Resentful? Hurt? I had no reason to feel that way. Second, Harpo seemed pretty delusional.

“Harpo,” I said, trying to sound as reasonable as possible, “he doesn't really know you.”

“He will! It'll just take time. So even if you're his new girlfriend—”

“I'm not his girlfriend! He just sent me out here because he just wants his brush back.”

"Oh." Harpo seemed a little relieved to hear that. "But I need it."

“No, you just want it, but that's not fair to him. Just give it back.”

She was silent. She removed the brush from her tool belt and clutched it close to her heart. I couldn't help but feel pity for her. It occurred to me that maybe Hedylogos was the first person to show her any amount of kindness.

“Fine,” she conceded. “I'll give it back. But I want something in return.”

“Oh, okay, what is it?”

“As you can see, I stole a lot of magazines… I wanted to make a collage of him, you know, with some celebrities’ features, but none of them were perfect enough. So… can you get me some pictures of Hedylogos for me? Please?”

“Oh.” I was at a loss for words. This had to be the third creepiest request I’ve ever gotten (the first two are a long story). On the bright side, Harpo was cooperating. “Sure, no problem.”

“Really?!”

“Yeah, but if I do this for you, you have to promise me something. You can’t steal things from Hedylogos anymore.”

Harpo looked at me like I just sprouted a second head…out of my stomach. “Why?”

“Because it’s wrong.”

She laughed. “No, seriously?”

“I am serious. You don’t just take things because you want them.”

“Hermes is the god of thieves,” she reasoned, “but they let him become an Olympian. He’s not seen as a nuisance.”

“Well, the gods and the ancient Greeks had some pretty warped morals. Look, just don’t take his stuff, he doesn’t like that. And if you really like him, you won’t do things to make him upset.”

She was silent for a moment before saying, “Okay, I promise not to steal from Hedylogos anymore.”

I nodded, satisfied. “I’ll be right back”

~*~

“Back so soon?” Hedylogos asked. I was back in his apartment. He must have been really engulfed in his book because he didn’t notice me enter the room at first. “Where’s my hair brush?”

“Just a second. Where did you put my things?”

His brow furrowed. “They’re in the kitchen. Why?”

“You’ll see.” I headed towards the kitchen. Like he said, the lavender bag was there, sitting on the island. I rummaged through it until I found my Polaroid camera. “Aha!”

I went back to the living room. Hedylogos was still on his couch, looking confused. “Aha wha—”

I snapped a picture of him, the flash catching him off guard.

“What the fu—”

“Now smile this time,” I ordered.

“You want to explain to me what’s going on?”

I smirked. “Just trust me.”

He sighed, clearly annoyed, but he smiled. My stomach did a little tap dance.

Man, I thought. He really is gorgeous. His smile highlighted his perfect features; his brown eyes twinkled mischievously.

Focus, Numbnuts.

I took a few more pictures. Yes, all of them were necessary.

“I hope this is important,” Hedylogos said, “and you’re not using these pictures to build some sort of shrine to me.”

I blushed for the hundredth time that day. “I’m not!”

“Because that’s flattering and all, and some two or three thousand years ago I would’ve appreciated it, but now it’s kind of creepy.”

“It is not for a shrine!”

“Oh.” He looked pretty disappointed. “Then why—”

“Believe me,” I said, “the less you know, the happier you’ll be.”

~*~

Harpo squealed in joy when I handed her the pictures and fluttered around in the air like I handed her a check million golden drachmas. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“Uh, don’t mention it. Now, do you remember what you promised?”

“Yeah, yeah. No stealing from him forever and ever a hundred years.”

I looked at her.

“Whaaaaatt? I won’t.”

“Good.”

I said my goodbyes to Harpo, but she was already too wrapped up in Hedylogos eyes, so I left her with her pictures and return to Hedylogos’s apartment. I nearly got whiplash doing a double take at the digital clock. It was a quarter till ten.

I swore in Ancient Greek. “I gotta go!”

“Relax, Bright Eyes,” Hedylogos said smoothly. “I’ll take you home.”

I raised an eyebrow. “And let you meet my parents? Yeah, no thanks.”

“What? I’ll be the perfect gentleman. Besides, that Sphinx is still after you. It’ll be safer this way.”

It came down to either explaining to my parents how I got onto the roof without them noticing, or explaining to them who the mysterious boy that give me a ride home in his expensive car was.

And honestly the roof choice came very close.

But in the end, it was worth it to see Alana’s jaw drop to the floor.

“So, Kaia,” my mom said tentatively, “who’s your new friend?”

“Hedylogos, ma’am,” he said sickeningly polite as he shook my parents' hands. “Nice to meet you both.”

“Hedylogos? That’s quite a mouthful.”

“So I’ve been told. And may I say, Mr. and Mrs. Fischer, you have a very lovely home.”

Dad looked pretty pleased with the compliment. “Thank you, young man. So will you be staying for the party?” he asked, folding his arms.

“Unfortunately, no. I have to be home soon. My, uh, grandfather might worry.”

I had to bite my tongue to keep from saying anything.

“I’ll walk him out,” I said, steering the love god towards the door before my dad got ask stuff like “what are your intentions with my daughter?” or “what do your parents do for a living?”

We got back to his car—a shiny silver, Hephaestus made vehicle—before I said anything again. “You were laying on the flattery and charm pretty thick there, weren’t you?”

“It’s what I do best.”

“But still, it’s surprising.”

“What was?”

“When my sister brought a boy home, my dad looked like he was ready to hook him to a fishing line and cast him out into Long Island sound. And he was a friend of ours, not some mysterious boy who drove her home in his fancy schmancy godly car.”

“You’re dad is pretty protective.” He sounded mildly impressed.

“Yeah, well he doesn’t know that boys are the last thing he has to worry about hurting me,” I said darkly. I rubbed my neck, remembering the claws of the Sphinx digging into my skin.

Hedylogos nodded like he understood, though I doubted he did. “Don’t worry. He won’t have to worry about me.”

Now that could mean a number of things. Was he hitting on me, because, for some unexplainable reason, he actually kinda liked me, or was he just confirming that his flirting was shallow and I was just some silly girl who was fun to mess with? The look on his face was hard to place, so I wasn’t sure. Hedylogos already made me feel messed up in the head; over thinking anything he said would give me a migraine.

“So, uh, thanks, again,” I said. “Honestly. I’d probably be dead if it weren’t for you.”

He shrugged. “Anytime. Oh, and Kaia.”

He held out his hand and it glowed until a shape formed from the light. A single green carnation. He smiled his gorgeous smile and handed me the flower. “Happy birthday.”

~*~

That night, I stared at the strange little flower. I didn’t even know flowers came in green. I mean, I knew there was a band called Green Carnation, but I always thought that it was just something made up using random words, like Red Jumpsuit Apparatus, Liquid Jelly Monkey, or Phat Ninja Karaoke (I didn’t make any of those up, by the way).

The rest of the day and the day after went off without a hitch. We went out to eat at our favorite spots, went ice skating at Rockefeller Center, ate cake, went shopping (which was all Alana’s idea), and made s’mores in the microwave (not nearly as good as camp s’mores). It was fun to be back in the mortal world with my old friends again. I could forget about the world of monsters that wanted to eat me, gods that used me, and half-brothers that were stolen in the middle of the night.

Every now and then I’d think about the flower Hedylogos gave me. I wasn’t the biggest fan of flowers; sure they were pretty, but they die in half of a day. What’s the point? But still, the gesture was sweet. I just couldn’t understand Hedylogos, to be honest. He had to be messing with my head, screwing around with how I thought and how I felt. I wasn’t about to buy it.

Still, I kept flower.

The two days went smoothly, with no more monster attacks or godly interventions. The only bump in the road was when I turned up on the news on my birthday. There I was getting attacked by the Sphinx and running down the subway tracks. The video was grainy, but I knew it was me. The video made the Sphinx look blurry, so it was hard to make out, but the news reporter was referring to it as a bear.

Seriously.

A freaking bear.

Thankfully, the Mist—in all of its horrifying glory—hid the truth from mortals, so I didn’t have to explain to my parents (or the authorities) why I was fighting bears and running around on subway tracks like a delinquent Maniac Magee. Not a pretty bad birthday present.

It'sthemiddleofthenightonChristmasIshouldbeasleepbeforeSantacomesss...
Anyway, Merry Christmas, guys! I hope you like this story that is no way related to Christmas.
© 2015 - 2024 jeychen5
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Zalay02's avatar
I laughed more than I should have at this XD