Persephone

Chapter 1: Forgotten

(*A/N: Pic is how I see Percy. Don't forget to leave comments, or press that little star for a vote! Each one really encourages me to write for all of you, people. Enjoy! -Rawkfist-*)

Chapter 1: Forgotten

The rain fell lightly, as if the heavens were also crying their heart out. It was always like this, Percy figured out as she walked along the crowd that followed the car that held the coffin. Always like this when someone died, or someone was sad. Percy didn't feel the sadness though. She didn't know who the person in the coffin was, nor did she know why she was walking along withe mourning crowd. She was clueless. 

Roughly three hours earlier, she was roused from sleep, asked if she had any suitable black dresses to wear, and approximately five minutes after that she realized that it was a funeral march for someone she didn't know. She had a red flower pinned on her chest, given another white rose to throw into the hole where the coffin was supposedly dug in. It was a dreary Monday morning, and she was supposedly on her way to school right now, not into Duskendale's Cemetery. She still had a lot of projects, including the portfolio she was supposed to pass today.

The umbrella she was holding was fit to serve a second grader, and no matter how hard she tried to shield herself from the rain, the wind always backed it up and sent it spraying into her already half-drenched dress. It was enough to make anyone as grumpy as a troll. She didn't complain loudly, whatsoever.  She was old enough to know not to bawl like a baby. It was infuriating though, Percy confessed, to have to stoop and pull back the wet cloth that clung to her thighs, a gloopy, burping, squishy sound accompanying it as she wrung out the water. 

"Percy?" 

She looked up and smiled half heartedly at Ezekiel who was pushing his way through the throng, clinging to his jacket as the rain plastered his already pale golden hair to his head, and finally sidled up to her. Ezekiel Caelum was a lanky seventeen year old, had to use contacts and a great lover of books, and her best friend since kindergarten. 

"Hey," Percy held up the umbrella for them both as the crowd came to a stop.

"How are you?" He asked.

Percy looked at him, trying to shield her cluelessness from him. "Well..."

"No, don't talk anymore.. After this, why don't we go somewhere? Take your mind off things?" Ezekiel wrapped a hand around her shoulders, and Percy was thankful for the warmth, snuggling beneath him. 

"I dunno, Zee." She looked at the coffin being lowered into the ground already. "I think...I'd go home..." 

Ezekiel nodded. "Let's get this over then." 

But Percy detected a question in Ezekiel's voice, as if he was suspicious of something in the air. She chose not to look at him again as she threw the rose in the hole, and walked away, but now without the umbrella.

Percy's house was a three-bedroomed terraced job, white walls and dark green features for the little roofs over her windows and practically every nook and cranny that wasn't white. There was a small garden in the front, in which Percy didn't mind trimming every Wednesday, bushels of chrysanths aligning her terrace in red, blues and yellows turning drab because of the weather.

She wasn't exactly a neat-wit person, and as soon as she opened her door, dust practically fell from atop the sill and exploded around her face. "Gods!" She coughed and then kicked the door closed, tossing her soggy shoes in the corner as she made her way to the kitchen. 

Living alone wasn't a problem for Percy: she got a part-time job down at Dawney's Tea shop, refrigerated food wasn't all a problem, her school didn't drag her down and she didn't mind lights out on 8 pm. Percy considered switching the TV too much hard work, and besides, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and Charles Dickens kept her busy with their beautifully written stories. Books were far more important than unused electricity. 

So was a packet of jasmine tea.

Percy filled her mug with hot water and milk, and dipped the tea bag into the mix. She didn't know she was bone-freezing cold when the steam practically melted through her face. She sighed in content, and stripped off her clothes until she was just in her nickies. 

She took up her mug up the stairs to her bedroom and slipped on her robe, planning to stop by Dawney's later on, work a few bucks into her pocket. After all, it was still three in the afternoon and it had stopped raining. 

Percy sat by her window, trying to contemplate once more on the earlier event. Sad faces, voices murmuring Condolences in her ear. Always directed on her, nobody else. Ezekiel had stood by her side all the time, however, his arm around her shoulders. She guessed that's what Best Friends were for. 

Her phone suddenly rang, and she stared at it for a while, the screen bright and blinding her for a moment. After the sixth ring, she picked it up, mumbling a, "Hello?"

"Maybe I should arrange for a second funeral too!" the other line was exasperated, and Percy smiled.

"Hi, Beatrice." Percy smiled and then placed her mug on the table. Beatrice Dawney was the owner of Dawney's Tea Shop, a very quick-tempered scottish 29 year old adult with a mop of ginger hair, and her boss, and mother as Beatrice saw herself as responsible for Percy's well being. 

"Thank goodness. I thought I would need another coffin. People this days..." 

Percy rolled her eyes as she prattled about drugs and sex and teenager life, then pollution getting into the lungs and killing off the oxygen and cigarette smoke. "Alright, alright, Beatrice," Percy interrupted her between wrong garbage disposal and log cutting. "Do you want me to come over?"

"Yes! Yes of course, darling. I could pay ya up 50 if you do from 6 to 9. Alright with that, dearie?"

She laughed. "I could go as early as now."

It was Beatrice's turn to laugh, a deep throaty one that sent another smile on her face. "Then you got ya-self a hunnerd bucks. See ya then." 

"Yep. Thanks, Beatrice." Percy clicked her phone off and finished her tea.

Dawney's Tea Shop was a petite little corner stop, washed with white and blue, fancy little twirls in the chairs' cushions and little checkered blue tabe tops. Despite its size, it was, by far, the best little tea shop in Duskenville, and it made perfect blueberry cheesecakes. 

Percy donned the blue uniform tee-shirt and slim top jeans along with her All Stars, along with a hoodie. Shoving her phone and an extra shirt in her backpack, Percy went down the stairs again and almost tripped on a stack of tagged books she was supposed to read last week. "Pfff..." she arranged them again and placed them on her dinner table. 

The sky was already darkening by the time she left the house, her wristwatch indicating that it was already 5 in the afternoon. Her house was way downtown, and Percy loved walking by the wooden glade that almost separated her from the town proper. Nothing felt so better than feeling the leafy coolness of the breeze in that glade, sometimes even brushing her fingers by dew was better than having a bath on an early morning. 

As usual, Dawney's Tea Shop was full, with hardly an empty table to be seen. The bright lights were cheery, and a few heads turned to look at her with a smile as she entered. Percy saw Beatrice holding out a few pastries at the counter, and her young daughter, Belle, helping out with a tray of coffee mugs.

"Hey Belle," Percy greeted as she passed by. 

"Oh, hello!" Belle grinned and then set the tray down, giving the coffees out to the waiting costumers before walking to her. Belle was an exact copy of her mother, 12 years old but instead of the green, she had clear blue eyes that sparkled when she smiled. "Mum thought you'd try to... forget things for while." Her voice was hushed, but Percy shrugged.

"I'm quite fine, really." Percy hooked her bag underneath the counter. Belle looked at her, and smiled though it looked a little forced.

"Come help me, then." Belle held up the white apron and tied it around Percy's neck in its orderly fashion, then placed a tray of pastries on her hand. Percy grinned and then began to deliver the food to their waiting costumers. She knew the drill well enough to earn a smile from Beatrice, waving from the counter.