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Ψ 𝐌𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐈𝐥𝐥𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐑𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐬 Ψ

𝐌𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞, one I never thought I could ever share, I guess fate has its way huh?

Has its ways of coming in and meddling with the life you already know and love and have. Or maybe you're just lying to yourself about the loving part. Maybe...I mean my life was pretty crappy I guess, and I suppose I didn't love it like that either. But even then my mom and I were okay, we were fine.

I guess I tried to doubt it and call out the lies but instead they were all true. But believe me my mom wasn't the one to lie to me, don't blame your parents unless they actually did something to you if I'm going to be honest guys. My mom stayed and it brought trouble but because she cares about me so much she didn't care about what trouble was to come as long as her miracle was safe.

Me.

To be honest I wished I wasn't one of them sometimes but then I think back and recall I wouldn't have a story to tell and so many gaps in my life wouldn't have been filled. So if you want those gaps closed go ahead but to be honest if it weren't for some circumstances I would've just stayed a normal kid fr as long as I could have.

Sometimes you're not gonna be given the truth and you may hate it, you may be angry and upset with the people that you never even knew.

They sensed me.

My mom and I were given no warning and both of us were broken because of that so I hope you will never be in the same situation I was in because if you are then I promise you, I understand completely what you're feeling right now. Betrayed, jealous, hate, vengeance. Especially vengeance...

My name is Hayley Reyes.

I'm currently 17 years old and in a few months exactly December I'll finally be a legal adult 18. My mom still baby's me but if I'm gonna be honest I wished my life would've stayed that way cause then I wouldn't have had to grow up so quickly because even at 17 I had to act like a 30 year old already.

I attend an art school in New York because it was the only...I was able to express those images, the ones of where I saw weird vivid things in my dreams...or when I daydreamed. I saw it all, so vividly. It made me want to draw and then paint and even sculpt. But my mom called me special, others called me crazy but I didn't care. My mom was the only person I listened to so it was worth it.

I could start off the story with saying about how it all started in the beginning where my mom and I were homeless for about 2 years until she found a job that paid somewhat good. We rented a bad apartment that smelled of smoke. But we moved out a few months later and now 17 years later we live in a small apartment with one bed, a kitchen and bathroom. We didn't care though cause my mom and I always figured it out together.

I'm not gonna give you all the sad bits because then I might end up crying myself and honestly I'm tired of crying because...well you'll find out I guess.

We really started off when my High School was taking us on a school trip to the MET. I attend an art school and so this was like a trip we had every month and different assignments each so we wouldn't be able to just put in the same answers from last time. I didn't have best friends or really friends. I kept to myself, perhaps because I was called crazy sometimes or mainly cause I rejected everyone.

We were at the MET just walking through the student entrance getting our bags checked. The guard almost made me throw my bottle of water but I told him I needed it. My mom recycled all the bottles for extra cash and I didn't mind the smart idea to get more money.

"Alright everyone gather together!" Our teacher shouted to get all of our attention, being a senior in High School was not fun, mixed in with dyslexia and ADHD prohibiting my academic performance.

I either tried my hardest, or cheated.

"Everyone is gonna go around, look at 20 different pieces of work, jot down the most important pieces of information on the blurbs, the title of the work and what year it was made. Now go off! Linger!" Everyone scattered and separated into their groups but I just stayed there as everyone walked with their friends.

I looked around seeing schoolmates and strangers, I held up the paper and moved my head down to look at the words on the paper as it began messing up. I rubbed my eyes and huffed as I pulled the pen out of my jeans pocket and began walking around.

Roman architecture was cool, some of the best paintings if I was going to be honest. The only class I liked was art until we had to do these stupid rounds at the museum where my writing had to be involved, that's why I loved painting. You should emotions and visuals just with fluidity and movement from something you make that expresses all of those built up emotions. You don't need writing, or math, or to read it, just look at it and think what it could mean.

Probably why my mom encouraged it so much growing up, it was the only thing I could do that put a smile to my face instead of tears running down.

But when I did have the more difficult subjects I would have panic attacks, small ones, especially during or after tests, hospitals are normal to be ever since I was diagnosed by 13 with severe anxiety. They put me on medication but it wasn't working. So my mom took me off them since our insurance couldn't cover much and I felt the same on and off them so they were just a placebo that failed.

I walked over to the Greek section and looked around. As I tried to jot down whatever I could into my notebook so my mom could help me organize it when I get home. I saw a terracotta jar, It was filled with figures that I could only make out to be the Greek Gods. I rubbed my eyes trying to see the blurb but everything mixed back and forth, left and right.

But I believe I remember this from a visit my mom and I did years ago. It was the abduction of Persephone.

I huffed and whined to myself, hitting my head as suddenly I heard "you..."

I turned my head slightly to the left to see a security guard staring at me eerily and closely.

I backed away from the work, maybe I was too close which could've been the truth since I was basically up close and personal with that blurb just a few seconds ago.

"Demi-god" they let out and the room turned into almost a spotlight on just the two of us as everything blurred out and I looked around and spun around seeing if anything was visible but there was nothing at all.

"You've got the wrong person," I tried to explain and began backing up until I guess my mind cleared and I heard "watch it!"

I turned around on my heels seeing a girl from my school "gosh I'm sorry I didn't see you!"

She just rolled her eyes walking away and I looked in the same direction from before but no officer anymore.

I decided maybe I just needed to clear my head.

I followed the pictured signs and found the bathroom easily, thank god.

The door was open so I just went ahead seeing multiple stalls and no one else. I went up to the sink and turned on the water and splashed some cold water on my face and grabbed a napkin drying up my hands and the droplets of water on my face.

I looked in the mirror and fixed my hair as I spotted the golden shine of my jewelry at my wrist.

I looked down and saw my bracelet and on it I saw my name engraved Hayley D.

My full name was Hayley Dianna Reyes, Dianna like the princess cause my mom wanted me to be named after a powerful woman but liked Hayley better so she made it my middle name, the latino stereotype.

All kids got bracelets like these at baptism. I got this one for my confirmation three years ago.

But as I was about to leave I heard "Demi-god..." once again.

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First chapter!!!

Let's get to know Hayley for a bit before she makes it to Camp Half-Blood but from what it seems...she may be going there soon enough.