12DISCLAIMER: I own nothing of Rick Riordian's, although almost nothing Percy Jackson is mentioned in this chapter. Sorry it's so depressing lol…I need to tell Lorin's life story, so you understand why she'll be so mean to Percy at first in upcoming chapters…Also I want to keep you in suspicion of who her Olympian parent is….so I'll say that she's an orphan! Mwahahaha!
Chapter 1
I guess it all started when I was little – I had two loving parents. Of course, they weren't really my family. I've never known either of my actual parents. I was found on the side of the road by a couple, in a basket swaddled in a pink blanket. Even though the police tried to find my real parents, they never found them. It was as if I had been born from thin air. I highly doubt that. I wish the couple who'd found me could've kept me, but unfortunately they already had 4 kids. They almost adopted me – but then decided against it. So instead, I went to a couple who didn't have any children. They loved me, I've always been glad of that. They were some of the nicest people I had ever known, even though I only have dim memories of being with them. But then there was a house fire, and I was the only one to escape alive. Naturally, I had help escaping. My step-mom had always been quick thinking, and she had grabbed me, opened the window, and set me down outside. I had crawled away; after all I couldn't run, I was only 2. When the firemen found me, I was alone about a hundred yards away from the ashes that used to be my home, and I was sobbing. No one knew why my step-parents couldn't get themselves out of the house. It didn't matter anyway. They were dead, nothing could change that.
So I became a foster child. I landed in many homes, some great and some horrible. Luckily I had someone who actually cared about me in the foster home, so if I landed with a bad family all I had to do was call her. I'm convinced she was actually an angel in disguise. She saved me from many bad situations. She never was able to keep me in the good situations either. I got a reputation as the "monster girl." It wasn't like I was the monster. No, quite the contrary. I was the victim of the weird people, that the families called monsters. They would come after me, all of them being really strange. A lot of them were big and muscular, a lot of them were really gross looking, and one even looked as if he had only one eye. But all of them had at least one thing in common. They would try to attack me, or stalk me. So whenever I'd finally get into a good family, a weird guy would follow me around or something like that. Or just weird things would happen to me. I would tell my foster parents about them, and they'd get scared and send me back to the foster home. So I slowly made my way through all the foster homes until I found an okay one that agreed to adopt me. Choosing to live in that home was probably the worst decision in my pitiful life.
I've always thought it unfair how there's some people who just live perfectly. It's not like the person herself is perfect, of course not. It's that their lives are. They live in just the right house, with the nicest parents anyone can ask for, who have siblings who can help you with your homework…They have nice pets and enough money to actually go shopping and get some nice things for themselves….And they still want more. And then, there are the other people (like me) who are deserted by their original parents, they have to go through the foster system, and of course they get abused. And the only person who could help was the nice lady at the foster home who recently died of cancer. Why did I have to be one of the unlucky ones, to get a terrible life? Many people say that you can 'choose your own life.' Yeah right. I've tried to do that. It didn't work.
At first the family I was with was nice. It seemed like they actually cared for me. At that point, I had learned long ago to not say anything about the monsters that followed me around. So I didn't mention the "attacks." (if you would even call them that. Nobody actually attacked me, just followed me around.) They were a pretty well off family, and that was nice because they didn't make me pay for my own stuff or anything like that. They bought me presents for my birthday, my favorite one being Magnum on my tenth birthday. The big "double-digit" as my stepfather would say.
I guess I should explain Magnum. He's a champagne colored Appaloosa stallion, only his spots are really faint and only on his hindquarters. You can only tell that they're there in a certain light. (AN: for all those people who don't know much about horses, champagne is sort of cream colored.) He could be really pretty, except for one little thing. He's always DIRTY! And with a really light colored coat, that's a bad thing! I would give him baths, and immediately he would run outside and get himself covered in dirt. My stepdad said he would grow out of it; after all he was only 3. Well, that didn't happen. Right now, he's still in the backyard resting in his stall. When I mean resting in his stall, I mean lying down in the wood shavings. So I would be grooming wood from his mane for the next hour or two. Now he's 8. Obviously, he hasn't changed a bit. Ah well…everyone's a child at heart right? Besides, the dirtiness of Magnum is sort of what makes up his personality. Without the dirt, there'd be no horse.
The other presents they would give me were smaller, but thoughtful all the same. I really thought they loved me. I think I was delusional. I probably still am, after all I still hope everyone will change and things will go back to the way they once were. The bad things started happening when I was thirteen. I loved my step parents enough to actually think and refer to them as Mom and Dad. And I thought of my step-brother and sister as my family. Then all of a sudden, my mom hated me. She would call me horrid names, swear at me, and beat me. At first she would only slap me. But as the years went by, she got more and more brutal. She started punching me, pulling my hair, scratching me….The worst thing that has ever happened to me so far was when she kicked me in the gut, with her shoes on. Really. Hard. I had to get stitches, the gash was so deep. The worst thing is, I only know it's going to get worse. Will my dad help? Of course not. He ran away from our family as soon as my 'evil stepmother' started abusing me. I guess he just decided to wash his hands of the situation. What a scaredy-cat. I have found that I can never trust boys because of him. I'm scared they would betray me, or desert me. My siblings won't help either; they're scared of their mother because of what she's doing to me. If they tried to help, she might do bad things to them too. I don't blame them for what's happening to me, they have an excuse. My dad doesn't. The only one who supports me is Magnum, and he's just an animal. I've felt myself drawing away from the few friends I have…I didn't trust anyone unless they couldn't intentionally hurt me. Sure, I was kind to the random stray cat on the street…but that was different. If they tried to hurt me, it's their instinct, because they're scared of me. I don't trust my mom. She should know better, after all, legally I am her daughter. Why does she do this to me? I cry every night, because I'm scared she might kill me the next day. Why do I deserve this? What did I do?
I live in a pretty pitiful state right now, that's for sure. I think my mom has realized if she starves me or doesn't let me take a shower, people will know she abuses me. So she lets me have certain "liberties." So she lets me stay clean, live in my own room…you know, things that every teen would have or do. She also buys me my clothes. All the shirts are long-sleeved, to hide the bruises on my arm. How thoughtful of her. Ugh. If she's that scared of someone finding out, I wish she'd just stop hurting me. I have to have perfect straight A's on my report card. If I don't, I get beaten. And of course, straight A's are impossible for me to get, because I have dyslexia. So I always end up crying in my room, bruises covering my skin.
I'm to the point where I don't trust anyone.
AN: ok…..it was really depressing writing that. I'm sorry that it doesn't seem like a Percy Jackson story yet…but don't worry it will. This was sort of a story of her life, to give a structure to the real important stuff coming in the next chapter. I probably should have written this as the prologue…but its okay. It works. The dark mood won't last either. Sorry for mistakes and all, I'm not going to edit it too much…With that last bit where Lorin says she doesn't trust anyone, she has NOT met Percy yet…and she's meaning people when she says that. Not animals. She would completely trust Magnum with her life. I'm sort of basing this off A Child Named It. SORT OF! I'm not copying it. It's an amazing story, and it's the only one I've really read about child abuse besides fanfiction.
It's sort of funny, Magnum is actually a horse at my riding lessons…and he really does get dirty like that. Except it's not only dirt…It's whatever excrement happens to be in his stall..yuck! My mom always complains when she smells me later…I guess his scent stays on me until I get to a shower! But he's too cute to not like, just because he's dirty. In fact I just rode him a few hours ago…with him as dirty as ever. No surprises there. We cantered, and I've drastically improved. All it took was for Carolyn (my riding instructor) to tell me to lean forward, and it felt amazing, like I was flying! Yea….so I'm really excited about that. Oo
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE PEOPLE WHO REVIEWED!
Unfortunately….this only includes 2 people…but I guess that was understandable because it was only the prologue, I'm hoping to get more this time. I mean come on! 58 hits, and 2 reviews..that's kind of pathetic. Usually when I read a story I take the 30 seconds to review..it doesn't take that much time.
2211068693: thanks for the review
bubblegum11: I'm glad I have someone interested in her parentage, I said she was an orphan just for you! Mwahaha! But I didn't want to reveal her right away…thanks for reviewing, especially since it was just the prologue. Actually, when she finally gets to camp Half Blood, she won't even know if it was her Mom or Dad was an Olympian…so she'll be guessing too.