daughter of heaven || percy jackson

3.9

⎯⎯ ୨ 3.9: this must be what hell is like ୧ ⎯⎯

THERE WERE SEVERAL COPING MECHANISMS that melanie liked to use.

her go-to was only applicable when she was at camp, when she would go to zephyros creek by that corner of the beach that was always empty (except that one time percy found her) and she would just relax there.

it was her favorite place in the world, honestly. the lapping rhythm of the waves that made her brain focus on something that wasn't her stress, the salty smell of the long island sound which would help comfort her, and the bright moon that reminded her that even in darkness there was still light.

she would usually just sit there in silence, just watching the waves while she thought to herself. 

most times, she wanted to scream. scream so loudly that everyone at camp would hear, all the campers, all the demigods, all the naiads, all the nymphs, etc. scream so loudly that her voice would be heard those one-hundred and twenty miles all the way in the city that never sleeps, scream so she could just be heard.

grover had told her to tell someone, tell somebody, anybody, about what she felt.

fuck no. 

telling someone about how she felt would only make the other perceive her as weak, and she already felt as inconsequential as one of the spirits in asphodel, just another one of those souls who don't know where they are, why they are, or who they are, and she didn't need any more openness in her life.

another coping mechanism that she had was to play the piano—gods, how she treasured playing that piano. she knew so many pieces now thanks to chiron's apparent never-ending supply of sheet music, and she could usually play to her heart's content.

honestly, it was probably the only nice thing her mother had ever done for her. her bitterness towards the queen of the gods was only multiplying by the day. 

her favorite piece to play was 'twelve variations on ah vous-dirai-je, maman,' aka twinkle twinkle little star. it was the perfect length, around twelve minutes long, and it reminded her of her mortal parents. she would give anything to be four years old forever. or just simply not born.

another coping mechanism that she used was simply just sleep. yes, sometimes the real world was enough to freak her out that she would much rather run the risk of receiving nightmares than be present. 

and that was exactly what she did when they were back on their feet (butts actually, she was sitting) on the road, and yes, she did get a nightmare.