Memory for Forgetfulness, Mahmoud Darwish / Euripides, Anne Carson / The Unbearable Lightness of Being, Milan Kundera / Catching Fire (2013), Suzanne Collins / Ladybird (2017), Greta Gerwig / Sharp Objects, Gillian Flynn / Wing Victory of Samothrace / Katie Maria 

✷ Consume and consume until you're satiated / (You never will be.)

        Callidora Song remembers never being really satisfied. 

         A certain hunger that could never be calmed. She recalls always wanting more food at the end of dinner even when all she could show her father was a clean plate. Being happy with the participatory prizes she might've gotten in class but then taking one look at the other kids who got the same and immediately wanting more. Seeing all the parents pick up their kids right on time and gritting her teeth before going to her father and demanding he get there just a little bit earlier than the others. No particular reason. Nothing but this ugly itch that knawed at her chest. 

        Or maybe there's another word for it. Jealousy. Envy. A certain uncontentness. It all just falls under the same umbrella of what Callidora is which is a little too much to handle. But there are a lot of things that stick to Callidora that make her just so unlikeable. And unfortunately, like many, she has the displeasure of saying its roots back to her parents. She hates to be one of those people where her maternal abandonment defines her but alas, such is life.

        It's a real mood killer. Those Mother's Day activities she's forced to do at school. It's her own little tradition at this point. A bright and sunny teacher will ask with a big smile why she isn't participating and Callidora will have the sadistic pleasure of dropping the big bomb that she simply does not have a mother. And when their faces drop like they always do, and they profusely assure her she doesn't have to do anything if she doesn't want to, Callidora will pick up a pair of scissors with a sick grin and begin cutting. Her father would enjoy one more wooden, glitter—infested frame, wouldn't he? It's funny to think, and she truly does laugh because Callidora enjoys the little things in life, that someone else's actions or a lack thereof created a domino effect that permanently bulldozed into her life. It makes her wonder how life looks on the other side. Since her mother decided no contact would certainly be a healthy dose of what Callidora needed, she wondered how her mother faired in lieu of her absence. She can't speak for her, but personally, it's something she can't quite get a good grasp on. It's a momentary glare in the grand scale of things. Even smaller when you think of the day—to—day. The realization sneaks up on you, but you don't notice it unless it wants to be noticed. It could be on a random Tuesday afternoon or in the dead of night when you think you're about to fall asleep. Callidora will be in the middle of watching her daily cartoons or on her way home from school when it hits her again as if it's been too long since she's last remembered. 

        It hits her where she hurts the most, that dull pain that beats alongside her heart. And she has to force herself to continue on. Continue watching her show like she'll still enjoy it or keep on walking home as if there isn't a slight lull to her steps. It's one of those time—stopping, world—silencing culminations when Callidora finally sees it wholly. You realize your normal is not the same as someone else's normal. Making a Mother Day's gift is someone else's normal, maybe even a slight annoyance. Having your parents pick you up and scoop your tinier hand with their larger one as you make the long journey home is a routine. Walking home alone at the start of middle school once your dad deems you're too old for all that is Callidora's normal, and she's adapted well. It's only on normal days like these when she's doing all the little mundane things that she feels a particular emptiness that's been there her whole life. Something has disappeared before she could even have it, and things shift as she thinks how different it really could have been.

        Callidora comes from a sterile home. With or without her mother.

        But on the list of people to blame for how she turned out, Callidora has no problem adding her to this phenomenon even if there is no logical connection. In some way or another, they do coincide even if she has to work a little harder to connect the dots. Her father, however, Murphy Song, beats her mother by a millisecond.

       It takes some years before Callidora truly finds the years worth remembering instead of just bits and pieces. Callidora's eight, maybe, when she concludes that she's never really learned who her father truly is. But that's a heavy—sized burden for an eight—year—old to be thinking. It doesn't hit her like a truck like other epiphanies do. Her father is in the same room as her when it happens, and it's sort of ironic how the events unfold. It's the annual dentist check—up. Something Callidora dreads and continues to dread even presently. She's sitting in one of the rigid seats, trying to keep the clinical scent out of her nose, and gripping onto her father's sweater like an anchor. Murphy is on his phone, typing away. Something about work, little Callidora gathered, because it is always about work. The nerves were just so overbearing she couldn't stand to care. There's nothing to do about it but get it over with so she settles for glaring at the wall until her name is called and then she'll just glare at the ceiling until they're finished picking and prodding. That's her plan until she feels the soft yarn slip out of her grip as her father stands up and begins speaking to an excited stranger. This confuses her. She's never seen anyone this excited in the waiting room of a dentist. Immediately, she finds something wrong with them They're too eager, too everywhere. They're hands are waving all over the place, and Callidora never knew someone's smile could extend that much. Talking too fast and too much, she can't even catch what's going on.

        The stranger is gushing. "I'm such a huge fan! Can I take a picture?" Oh, so that's what this is about. Typical, Callidora rolls her eyes as she sits back down. Finding the loose string of her coat more exciting, she focuses on that instead. The pile of magazines on the glass table catches her eye. On the front cover is her father with a big smile on his face. Hollow smile but an obvious money maker if tabloids are anything to go off on. That's when it begins to seep in, and that's when the panic starts to rise too. To Callidora, Murphy Park is a father. Her father. But the moment he steps out the door of their home, he's something different to many different people. He was someone else before her, and she wonders what he's like now because of her. He's met so many people under so many monikers that it's easy to get lost in the shuffle. When Callidora looks back, she doesn't remember knowing much about her father. Even now, she doesn't think she has the pleasure of it. She's chipped away pieces of him but like many statues it takes time and you don't want to hit the wrong spot or else it'll crumble in your grasp. The understanding she does get of him is a whole lot of awkward dinners and notes on the fridge saying he'll be back soon. Is this really the version of himself he wants her to know? Ignorance is bliss, but Callidora fears she'll only know the severity of this when she knows more than she can handle. Is that a trade—off she's willing to make?

        He's only who she's made him out to be. Even now, he still declines her the privilege of seeing who he truly is. Maybe she could get a glimpse in the magazines she finds at the newspaper stands or when her classmates decide she's worthy of being the topic of their hot gossip. Secondhand accounts at best. A lot of who he is, Callidora roots back to her mother. See, there's always some path back to her. It's a time before her since she didn't think sticking around was worth it. Anything true about her mother or father Callidora held tight could be found in the rare stories her father would reminisce about when in her early childhood. As she grows and fewer ticks on the walls to mark her growth appear, Callidora suspects Murphy has only done this with purpose. Tell her more when she's young and the less she will remember when she grows up.

       Everything she's been told or at least remembered could be written on a single sticky note. (1. She was very competitive.    2. She had a complicated family.    3. She was very good at many different things— but that one's a little vague.) Not even her name. If only Callidora knew the limited amount of time she would have in the months to come then she'd swallow down every nerve and confront him. Tell me everything I want to know and don't spare a single detail, she'd say, it won't be boring to me. 

        In the circumference of her life, Callidora doesn't expect much. Then, a goat man named Grover finds her. It all goes out the window from then. 

        He becomes her friend first. He has the decency for that or maybe time is just on her side. A week or two in it starts to get weird. She knows everyone has their own interests, and their own quirks, but quizzing her on Greek mythical creatures is not very high on her personal list. Especially when they start to appear in her dreams or even worse outside her history class the next day. He tries to get her into different hobbies and see which one clicks the most. None of them ever do. Then, the weirdness decides to take it up a notch. It's P.E., the worst possible time, and Callidora is trying to convince her gym coach her period cramps are too terrible for her to participate civilly. Callidora was so close to convincing her coach successfully when the lights begin to flicker, and the grounds are a lot shakier than she remembers. She thought those only happened in California? Somewhere across the gym, she catches Grover's eye, and they are plagued with fear. Not for himself, but for her. There's a clicking that rattles the room, shakes the gymnasium. It inches closer and closer until Callidora feels it tickle her ear. When Callidora glances around, however, no one else has heard it. They don't feel the pinprick of death breathing down your shoulder that Callidora feels as they file out all the students. They certainly don't see the reflection in the glass where only Callidora faintly sees a monster only she could make up in her dreams standing in the same place as the assistant gym coach. 

        It all culminates that same night when it begins to storm. Grover shows up at her door with a crooked smile and... goat legs. Just as Callidora is trying to wrap her head around that, he essentially word vomits right on her feet about Greek gods and goddesses and mythological monsters after her and then smiles and asks if she has any questions.

        It's safe to say Callidora has her own set of questions. Even though he warns they are in a hurry, they spend ten minutes on Callidora's inquiries, but they are only met with more cryptic responses. It's a lot of information without any real answers to her many questions. Like a fun game where everyone is laughing but her. Grover fails to remember she's failing a lot of her classes.

       Stamping his hoof (?) down, Grover tells her, he can take her somewhere safe. It's odd because she's never felt in danger. When Grover looks out her apartment window with a gulp, something tells Callidora that'll all change soon enough. 

        There's still a stubbornness to her, so Callidora, even after interrogating Grover and hearing everything he had to say, refuses. She needs to talk to her father. She needs to have someone talk to her truthfully. No more beating around the bush; it only hurts her head even more. Grover concedes. They'll wait for her father to come home, and then they have to leave!

       A lot of that night is thunder and a desperate hope that this will be the night her father decides to come home. She asks herself if, without her, would her father's life be any different. There's a lot of hope in the silence that fights this unanswered question. A small but strong candlelight in the middle of a dark room. The kind you go and kneel to and clasp your hands together and just wish. 

        It's a quiet affair, confronting him. She asks Grover to wait outside because if it goes South at least she'll have the decency for some privacy. Callidora asks him simply, "Is my mother a goddess?"

        He gives her the same courtesy, nods, and says yes.

        It's so simple, but it feels like he's been playing with her Callidora's whole life. Is it dramatic to say she gasps and takes a big step back? She knows it's not how he wanted to spend the night. When he puts down his thermos and sighs, she thinks maybe she ruined his plans of a peaceful father—daughter night, and it makes her feel warm inside. A little good with the bad. 

        Saying goodbye is even quieter. Grover comes back in and with a stiff lip, Callidora hurriedly stuffs her entire life into her school bag. There's a hushed conversation on the other side of that door. Callidora wants to tiptoe towards it and listen in because maybe she can catch droplets of her father's worry. It's hard to say what her father was feeling; he's always been a closed book. It's a cruel twist of fate that the moment Callidora can start to read him all she finds is a small sigh of relief and the released pressure of having her as a daughter. Before she ultimately does leave, Callidora expects something. She goes up to him, not exactly knowing what to say but inching closer to him nonetheless. There's a hug waiting at the end of this very awkward goodbye. Her arms are twitching and she's positioned fiddly. She thinks to herself, isn't this what's expected? At the very least?

       He puts her out of her mercy, reaching forward and bringing her in. It's so stiff; it lasts forever. She almost wants to rip herself out of his grasp because of how unnatural it is. She feels bad Grover has to watch the whole thing. 

       Her father clutches her by the shoulder and bows down to meet her eyes. "Stay safe," he heeds her. 

        "I will," she promises. And then they're off.

        When she leaves she doesn't forget to look back once, twice, six times. Each time, she wonders all over again if her father ever did the same. 

       Camp Half-blood is an adjustment, but Callidora doesn't see any other choice.

        There aren't more answers at the camp for Callidora either. Funnily enough, she's meant to just fill in the blank. Cabins, rituals, places where people fit and where Callidora does not. It's one of those things that you tell yourself it takes time because that's what everyone else says, but she isn't seeing any light at the end of this long, long tunnel.

       People take her under their wing; it's their job. Grover disappears somewhere. His job is apparently done. He introduces her to Mr. D, an obvious alcoholic who doesn't have the energy or care to attend an AA meeting, and Chiron, another man with hooves. Chiron becomes her guide which soothes her a bit. A tour with Mr. D sounds a bit grating. Say one word and watch out, she may turn into a puddle of grape juice, or if he's feeling nice, he'll put her in a sippy cup. Anyways, Chiron shows her the training grounds, the mess hall, anything, and everything she needs to know because this is where she's going to live for a long time. Depending on how safe it is, Chiron explains to her. It just sets in how real this is. This isn't a visit; this is a permanent fixture of her life now. Then, he hands her off to Luke, son of Hermes. That's how he introduces himself, and Callidora supposes that's just what comes with the introduction now. An unspoken thing people want to know, have to know about you to actually know you.

         From then on, he describes the whole parents thing. No one will know until they want us to know which could be any time they decide. For a lot of people, it's undecided. Another itching fear settles in her stomach like rocks. She could come all the way here for nothing. All the way to be told they won't ever know. Story of her all life. Callidora didn't need to be told all over again. Luke moves on from that fact quickly, however, going on to explain how there are tells. Certain attributes that people can excel at which show who their parents really are. 

        As a group of flawless prim and perfumed kids waft past them, Callidora find herself wrapped up in a trance. A girl, the one leading them, waves at Luke to which he waves back fondly. She follows them dumbly like there's no other choice.

        "Aphrodite's kids," he whispered in her ear.

        It all made sense from there. 

        There's a lot of information jampacked into this one day. Some things stick out, others Callidora forgets instantly, so she can ask another question. But Luke tells her about this 'Capture the Flag'. Apparently, it's a blast. Luke tells her she'll be joining his team, and she doesn't have anything to worry about because his team always wins. She quickly refutes this by warning him that no one has wanted her on their team since second grade when she got picked second—to—last at kickball and her team still lost. He waves it off and says this is a bit different from kickball. For the first time that summer, Luke's team loses. And they don't do it, but Callidora knows exactly to point all their fingers.

       It's an unspoken thing about Callidora. All the things you could be good at, even just at the level of a functioning human being, Callidora finds herself... not. A late bloomer, her father would always call her. Not as reassuring as it may sound. Not when you've heard it a thousand times. That's why when the sting of failure hits it's dull. But not to Luke and the many campers on his side. They're dirty, heaving, and upset about the surprising loss. He ensures Callidora it's not on her. Must've been a fluke, just a bad day. Then, he goes to join that girl from Ares he introduced to her earlier, and she thinks he's so nice to the point it's no longer admirable. 

        Luke may not have any problems with her, but some other campers certainly did because that same night at the celebratory bonfire, they decide to pick on her. Give her a lesson. Initiation if you will. It's a wicked twist of fate, the timing of it all. They push her down, joke about making her kiss their shoes, and make a show of it. Show Callidora her worth. It's the three of them against her, and Callidora thinks the embarrassment of trying to get back up and failing is more than enough to keep her down, so she takes it. And it's that final decision that causes the shift in the air. A gust of wind that sends everyone back. When Callidora opens her eyes again, she realizes the bullies are gone, knocked back several feet away from her. Some other campers are beginning to circle in, but her head is ringing so intensely that she can't piece together anything. Eyes creasing, Callidora wonders why it's so hard to keep them open until she looks up and sees a shining ball of light. It's the dead of night, how could this be? That's when she makes it out. A shining light above her head. The gusts of wind as if wings are flapping over them. In the center of it all, a laurel wreath.

        Chiron announces it for everyone to hear. "Callidora Song. Daughter of Nike!"

        Real funny joke, mother. Impeccable timing.

        She must've stepped into another universe because the clapping, the slaps on the back, and the 'I told you so!'s feel staged. But she didn't do anything. She thought maybe it was in an act of heroism that she'd be rewarded with knowing who her mother was, but she just took a beating. She's covered in the earth and bruises, yet this only encourages them all to celebrate even harder. This wasn't a reward. This was an act of pity. Of mercy that would soon be followed by the shame and humiliation that she had to be saved by mommy. This is what she's been waiting for her whole life? She felt the exact same as she did a few days ago.  

        That night, Callidora meets her mother for the first time. In a dream. She doesn't speak to her, and it seems like a punishment for the embarrassment she caused earlier. Callidora speaks over and over again but no resolve. She doesn't know her place well enough not to. It's muffled and even if she could hear her loud and clear, her mother never even utters a word. Callidora has the same dream the next night and the next. Ever since then, Nike's presence has loomed over her everyday life. It speaks to the half-baked relationship the two have.

        Whatever sense of belonging Callidora may have caught a whiff of her first day goes away the moment she wakes up in the morning. The sickening realization of being claimed doesn't mix well with broken ribs. The weird looks and mutters she receives certainly doesn't help either. It's only salt in the wound. It's familiar. Callidora thinks she hates the familiarity more than the sting. Her body settles like it did back in New York as if she never left. But instead, it's that laurel wreath that hangs over her. Not in a reminder of all her mother's victories but of her own daughter's everlasting failures. 

        It's a pattern with Callidora Song, the campers begin to say the longer Callidora stays there. Some daughter of Victory there. 

       They begin to stay away and Callidora begins to push them back farther.  

       From then on, there is nothing in Callidora's way. No upcoming math test, no monsters hot on her tail, and no conversation—ending questions about who her mother is. She has it all now. All the tools she didn't have before to become the person she wanted. But with those perks come new obstacles. She sees a cleared path with her mother at the end of it, but if it is one step forward, it's five steps back for her. Ironic. She doesn't know what keeps her so far, so out of reach. The only logical conclusion, she comes to, is that it must be herself. Callidora will try and try the next day until she can't anymore, and then she'll get back up and give it another go.

        Callidora is an affliction to herself. The antithesis of her mother and paradoxical when looked at under a magnifying glass. And ultimately, her end will be as anticlimactic as her beginning. A real hero's journey.

       Who knows why. Flip a coin, and Callidora could tell you that's just how it is. Or, you could blame her mother. Callidora can live with that.

✷

Callidora Song ✷ Daughter of Nike

i. "I am obsessive. I contain nothing but the replay.
/ I am blood and blood and replay."
ii. Latebloomer; Paradoxical and laughable.

[...]

Lisa Lang ✷ Daughter of Ares

i. To love means to radiate with inexhaustible light. To be loved is
to pass away, to love is to endure.
ii. Open Flesh Wound, stitch it closed.

Murphy Song ✷ Victor First, Father Second

Percy Jackson 𓆞  Son of Poseidon

Luke Castellan ☤ Son of Hermes

✷

Annabeth Chase    Daughter of Athena
Grover Underwood     Searcher / Protector
Clarisse De La Rue     Daughter of Ares
Thalia Grace      Daughter of Zeus / Forbidden
Chiron.                              Mentor
Chris Rodriguez        Son of Hermes

More to be added.

✷

     𓆞      All the graphics are made by me with resources I've found in various places (Pinterest, Tumblr, Google, etc). I do not any of the resources I use. The PSDs used are 'PSD Coloring 76' by 'iunmin', 'PSD 111' by 'julella' and 'PSD 102' by 'sttoneds' on Deviantart. Please do not take credit for, steal, claim these graphics in any way. If you take major inspiration from any of these graphics please PM for permission.

     𓆞      Dogmatic contains many difficult topics that may be difficult for readers. Watch out for blood & gore, vivid descriptions of death and violence, mental illness, PTSD, abandonment issues, neglect, and terrible family dynamics. If there is anything else that may be triggering that I did not add, please don't hesitate to tell me.

     𓆞        I do not own Percy Jackson. This includes the books or live-action TV show or anything affiliated. I do however own Callidora, Lisa, their characters, and everything added by me into this book that was not previously included.

    𓆞        I've disappeared before, and I'll probably disappear again, but I'm here to give some crumbs of activity before I do. I've been brought back from the dead because of the new PJO T.V. show. And now I'm reading all the books back to back because the 2010s' resurgence is just coming back. First Hunger Games and now this. I'm not complaining though. This doesn't closely follow just the books nor the TV show. It's more a fusion as I think there are great components of both I wouldn't want to pass up on. Also, I'm aging the characters to 14/15 in the first book, and there won't be any romance until way later on. A real slow burn.

                    ✷   Even though Nike isn't one of the 12 main godly parents, I wanted to go a different route that would really inspire me for a character, and I hit gold with Nike. Her cabin isn't built until later, but I'm changing that. Womp, womp. Callidora is my sweetheart with a tongue twister name. She's petty and a loudmouth, but she's kind and insecure in a way that scream mommy issues. I adore her. She's not gonna be a perfect character, and she'll have a lot of character flaws to navigate, but don't give up hope on her because she's gonna go through the whole character makeover. Callidora's dynamic between her and her mother is the main focal point of the book, not only her character. She's wanted that connection her entire life, and when she's finally given an answer as to why she never did, she tries everything in her power to 'earn' it since now she knows her mother isn't technically a deadbeat or just dead. Even if it could lead her to her death. The prologue hopefully communicates snippets of this part of Callidora's character even though it's essentially a glorified prologue. I'm not the happiest with it, but it's 4,000 words I wrote in a day, so no way I'm scrapping it until I have a genuinely better idea. Sorry if there are typos or grammar mistake I can't be bothered. 

                     ✷   This book will also be in first person which is something I don't really do. I'll be experimenting with it. One of the things I think make the PJO books so entertaining is the first person perspectives especially when they are in Percy's perspective. We'll also be switching perspectives in this book between Callidora, Percy, and anyone when it comes their time. Hopefully, I can capture their internal dialogue well enough!!

                     ✷    Another character I'm introducing is Ms. Lisa Lang!! She's from a spin-off book with Luke because I know we all see the wasian boy on our screens with the big scar. I'm only a person. I have my weaknesses. There'll be more details on her when her book comes out <333

                     ✷    Anyways, I hope you enjoy this, and please don't forget the devasting situation happening in Palestine. they cannot afford us forgetting about them, especially in these times of need. There's a link to a carrd in my bio that takes you to a bunch of links regarding the situation. 

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