I loathe the clock in the hall, mounted on the off white wall; because time is all it seems to have whereas I have none at all. The quiet ticking of the old grandfather clock lulls me to sleep each night, but as soon as the clock's hands hit midnight, I am jarred awake by the sounds escaping the clock. At first I hear the cries of a thousand people, each individual experiencing unimaginable loss. Then, the sound changes to the comforting and familiar sound of the ocean and a cool ocean breeze. I can almost feel the water and am often tempted to venture out into the hallway to visit the sea because I know that it's out there in the hallway with the clock. I've always dreamt of going into the hall to see what's really out there, but have always been too afraid.
My parents warned me not to be afraid of the unknown, but I never really registered what they had meant. Now, their warning rings out through the dark room, a piercing scream that ricochets off of my bedroom walls and wails like a siren throughout my mind. I think of my father's sea green eyes and my mother's stormy grey ones. I think of the promise they made to me. "We'll be back before you know it," comes the comforting voice of my mother. "We'll be back within a few weeks, i'm sure of it," promised the soft, dependable voice of my father. They lied.
The first few weeks were agony. My uncle Leo tried to remind me that it was only a few weeks and that we'd get along just fine without them, but I paid no attention to him. I would gaze out the window longingly, which I still do today, and sit sullenly as the days slowly ticked by, looking for any sign of my parents. I knew that they were demigods and that they were just on a quest, doing the gods' bidding and saving the world, that I was being selfish trying to keep them all to myself. I kind of felt bad, but my longing for them was more powerful than my guilt for trying to hog them. After a few weeks, they still hadn't returned and everyone assured me that they were fine and that they probably just became held up; but that didn't stop me from worrying. They made a promise and they broke it. Then, the weeks turned into months and I wasn't the only one who was worried anymore. They tried to hide their fear but I could see it in their eyes and hear it late at night behind closed doors. A search party was sent out to find them but my parents could be anywhere in the world, so I don't even see the point in a search party. I was forgotten in the frantic searching for my parents, moving from home to home, never even bothering to unpack my suitcase because it seemed as if I was leaving each time I arrived - whenever they conjured up some idea of where in the world my parents could be. Eventually, they sent me to stay at my house with my auntie Rachel, the oracle of Delphi. She's nice, i've known her all of my life. I love aunt Rachel but she can be kind of creepy what with her sometimes just spouting prophecies unannounced. Thankfully, our house here in New Rome is large- almost excessively large, so I have plenty of space and privacy. It's not like that even matters, though because I spend most of my time here holed up in my room or by the window, and now more than ever, in the hallway in front of the clock.
I don't know what it is about the clock, but i'm drawn to it like a moth drawn to light. No matter how hard I try, I always find myself in the hall, near the clock. I sometimes sit in front of it for hours on end, listening to its endless ticking, often drifting off only to be jarred awake each hour by its startling bongs. I'm drawn to the clock like a magnet and i've not even the slightest idea how or why that can be. I have a strange fascination with the clock in the daytime but at night, the clock is a foreboding thought in my mind and there is no way in tartarus that I would ever want to be anywhere near it.
I thought that I would never dare to travel out to the clock at night but now I feel drawn to it more that I ever have been, like an intensely strong magnet and I know that I have to venture to the clock tonight. The clock's bongs are warning alarms that should cause me to recoil in fear but all I want to do is head toward the danger. So, here I am, crawling out from under my covers and placing my feet on the hardwood floor, padding across my bedroom to its door. My heart is a drum, pounding mercilessly, threatening to explode, trying to escape its bonds that are my chest. Despite my panic, I manage to pull open the door and peer out into the hallway. It's too dark for me to see anything but I can almost sense that whatever I had felt before is gone, there isn't anything pulling me towards the clock anymore. All I can hear is the soft ticking of cloc'ks hands, its loud midnight bongs have subsided and the sirens wailing in my head are gone. All of my former feelings have been replaced by one new, urgent thought. One word repeated over and over in my mind, a gentle chant that keeps getting louder and more urgent until it's the only noise I can hear, see, feel, think. Go.
All of the missing pieces fall into place and I realize what I need to do. No one can find my parents but me. I mentally kick myself for not listening to my parents' warning long ago and just going out into the hallway at night. The fact is, there's nothing special about the clock at night. I was so busy being terrified by the clock that I lost sight of what was important- finding my parents. Now my mind is clear of the silly fantasy that something horrible comes from the clock and I can finally do what I've been meant to do all of this time. The short, singular word: Go, takes over my mind and all I can think about is going to find my parents. It has been six months and we haven't gotten so much as an iris message from them. They're either dead, lost, or in serious danger and I know that they should most definitely be back by now. If I don't find them, I may never see them again and I don't want that.
I must admit, I'm pretty disappointed that all of the ideas I previously had about the clock were nothing more than mere fantasies. The cold, hard truth slaps me across the face and I fall to the floor, crying out. As I lie on the ground in a ball, the truth of everything that has happened fills my mind. My parents have been missing for six months. Six months! There is no way that my parents are just taking a while, they would have told us what was going on. They wouldn't just leave me like this. There's a good chance that my parents are dead and I've been having fantasies about a stupid grandfather clock. Now, I've come up with this crazy and most likely very foolish idea to find my parents by myself. Do I really think that I can do a better job at finding them than the adults? I don't know, but I just feel like I have a chance at finding them and I honestly have no good reason for it.
I've decided that tomorrow, tomorrow I will set off to find my parents. My mother, Annabeth and my father, Percy. They are my world, my universe. I don't want to lose them. Six months is too long to be away from them and i'm not going to sit here and wait for them to return when I already know that they're gone, lost somewhere and they aren't coming back unless I find them and even then, I probably won't. I sit up and regain my composure. It's the middle of the night and i'm planning to leave Camp Jupiter, to leave New Rome. I sure do come up with some outrageous ideas at night. Usually, I never actually follow through with my ideas but tonight is different. When I stand back up and enter my room, I turn on the light and pull open my drawers, packing a bag of clothes. I really am leaving. I can't tell anyone, i'd never be allowed. The gods will be so, very disappointed in me. People make sacrifices for the people they love and that is just what i'm going to do. I hate that i'm going to cause a lot of panic when I leave. Leave all of my parents' friends and family thinking that they've lost their friends' only daughter, breaking the promise that they all made to my father; to protect me. I feel horrible, but that is just a sacrifice i'm going to have to make and I know they'll get over it, get over me.
I've never gone out into the world alone, but I have so much training. I've lived at Camp Jupiter since age 1 when my parents adopted me, sensing that I was a demigod. Every summer is spent either at Camp Jupiter (the camp for Roman demigods) or at Camp Halfblood (the camp for Greek demigods). I'm not really sure whether i'm Greek or Roman because i've grown up with both so I consider myself a daughter of Poseidon and a daughter of Neptune. Both are valid answers. I don't know what it's going to be like out there, how many monsters i'll encounter, and where to even begin to look for my parents but i'm ready. I'm ready for anything.
I'm not entirely sure what to pack so I guess I'll just bring a little bit of everything. Plenty of ambrosia and nectar because who knows how often I might get hurt and my parents might need some serious medical help. I'll pack clothes for warm and cold weather because who knows where I might be going. Most importantly, I need to pack my most prized possession. My weapon. It was a gift from my parents and I wouldn't ever fight without it. It's an imperial gold locket engraved with a trident surrounded by waves and a starry night on the outside. When the locket is opened, it transforms into a dagger. I love it more than anything. It is called Astrofengiá which means 'Starlight' and I take it everywhere I go. It's the only weapon I ever intend to use while fighting for the duration of my life. I feel like I won't need that food but I will need money because I can pick up food nearly anywhere.
By the time that I'm finished preparing for my journey, the first rays of sunlight are streaming through my bedroom curtains and shining into my room. My auntie Rachel will be up soon and I'm not quite ready to leave so i'll have to hide my pack full of resources. I hear my honorary aunt call my name and I have just enough time to kick my pack under the bed before I hear her footsteps treading down the hallway cease and I she raps on my door. "Yes, aunt Rachel," I mutter, trying to sound tired as I slip under the covers trying to make it look as if I've just woken up; "is there anything you need?"
She responds almost immediately and exclaims, "Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to wake you! I had thought that I heard you moving around in your room and I've just come to tell you that breakfast will be ready soon. Is there anything that you need, sweetie?"
I wait a moment to respond, taking this opportunity to think of anything that I need on my rescue mission that I don't have already, wracking my brain. Think, this is your only opportunity to get what you need, so you'd better think fast. I feel like I already have all of the essentials but there's an item nagging at the back of my mind, wanting me to take it on my journey. "Well, do you happen to know where my mom's white owl hoodie is? It's so comfy, i'm just dying to wear it." I didn't ask her for some deadly weapon or anything that will really help me in the hunt for my parents, but for her old hoodie that she has had since my parents adopted me. The love that I feel for that hoodie is caused by all of the warm memories it brings with it.
My aunt Rachel announces: "Hmm. I've never looked through your mom's closet and i'm not sure that I feel comfortable doing that as of right now but i'm sure that if you walk into their room, you'll be able to find it yourself. By the way, you have every right to be mad, sad, and upset over your parents being gone so if you ever need someone to vent to, i'll be right here. I mean, you are stuck with me until your parents return."
I don't know what to say and all I can manage is a forced laugh and "Thanks, Aunt Rachel. I'll definitely keep that in mind,".
I don't think that Aunt Rachel knows what to say either, because instead of hearing her response, all I hear are her footsteps retreating down the hallway. I wait to hear the sounds of her making breakfast before I open my door and quietly exit my bedroom. I peer around the hallway as I walk and stop dead in my tracks when I see the new addition to our hallway. Above the clock is a vivid pastel painting of an elaborate, barren landscape. There's a vast, blue sea and the setting portrayed in the image is midday. I would know that place anywhere. It's the unpopulated island of Gyaros. Because most don't know of its existence, we demigods like to use it as a vacation spot. I haven't been there in years but my memories of that place are so vivid, I could never forget it. Undoubtedly, that's Gyaros and I don't know how it ended up there but I have to believe that it's a clue, a message from my parents. There aren't many things I'm sure of, but right at this very moment, I'm certain that I must travel there. I sound ridiculous but I'm sure that's where my parents are and honestly, that painting is the farthest I've gotten in the six months they've been missing. If I'm going to travel anywhere, that island is my best bet. I wouldn't count a secluded island unknown to mortals out as a place my parents could be. As a matter of fact, it seems quite likely that some monsters could've found Gyaros and done something terrible there, something that my parents had to fix. I was told what predicament my parents were sent to resolve on their quest but I can only vaguely remember exactly what. It had something to do with strange monster activity. I think that my parents were sent to find the monsters and kill them. Probably, they didn't know exactly where the monsters were but only that they were somewhere in Greece. This makes perfect sense. My parents could still be searching for the monsters or, an even more likely scenario is that they found the monsters and are trapped on the island which would explain the strange new painting in the hall. Tonight, i'm leaving for Gyaros and will find my parents, i'm sure of it.
I feel like I have everything I need. I've already collected my mother's sweatshirt from her room, old memories flooding in like waves in a storm. A feeling of deep longing, sadness and regret enveloped me while I was in their room. I shouldn't have let them go, I should have gone with them. Stop. Stop dwelling on what has already happened. It's too late for me to take anything back, so I have the duty to make things right and find my parents. My backpack has all of the essentials and I don't need to worry about money due to the fact that my parents have granted me thousands of dollars in case of emergencies. If this isn't an emergency, I don't know what is. I don't feel very prepared but I have a feeling that this is as prepared as i'm going to be.
The hours wear on, night approaching steadily. I have to practice keeping my breathing regular, taking deep breaths. I try and formulate some pathetic plan that mostly fails, waiting for nightfall. I find myself wandering into the bathroom, standing at the sink. As I stand before the mirror, I examine my features. I have dark brown hair, so dark that it's often mistaken for black. My cheeks are splashed with freckles and my hair falls just past my shoulders in soft waves, like the sea. My body is petite- tall and thin. My small face has side curves, features I despise. Sometimes, if I stare at myself long enough, I can almost make out a defined jawline. My eyes are a piercing green, nearly identical to my father's. Though I'm adopted, I'm often mistaken to be my dad's sister or most definitely his birth daughter. That's just what happens when you have the same God as a parent- many of our features are the same. Thinking about my parents makes me miss them more than ever. I just want to find them and bring them home, where they belong.
After about another hour of restlessly pacing my room, I hear Aunt Rachel pad down the hall to bed. I wait for 20 minutes until I grab my things and creep into the hallway, past my aunt's room where I hear the soft, steady, sound of her sleeping breaths. I tiptoe through the house to the front door, taking a deep breath and one last look at my house. I inch open the door and step outside. As I stand in the fresh air, the moonlight, I can hear the steady, dependent ticking of the clock- the clock that has lulled me to sleep for years. I'll miss it but I have to believe that I'll be back soon, before I know it.
I take a few more deep breaths before stepping forward, into darkness. My walking speeds up and evolves into a silent sprint. As I begin to run, I can barely make out the faint cry that is my aunt calling: "Genevieve?" but it's too late. I'm already gone, a shadow disappearing into the night.