Matryoshka

1

Guess who's back? This time with a PJO fic (I can't be bothered to think of an original set of characters right now, but maybe next time). So, as you may have seen, the story is about Drew and Piper, two horribly misrepresented girls. I don't want to rant, so I won't, but just think about how badly written Drew is! She's in the series for two reasons: token diversity and to prove that every attractive female is a bitch. I hate both of them, so here we have this story.

I'm not going to write these down every time, so here you go:

I don't own PJO. I won't be noting down triggers in the story, so I'll give you warnings upfront: on-page self-harm, emotional and physical abuse, questionably consensual acts (though minor ones), character death, swearing, and a whole lot of unrealistic events. Enjoy.

The Brooklyn Academy for the Gifted was a hell of a hot mess. While Drew was sure that they were trying to make sure that every student didn't feel like a fucking retard, it wasn't working. Why else would they be at BAG, anyway? She resented the way that the teachers looked at them as if they were poor darlings who needed to be taken care of. It was almost as if having ADHD and dyslexia equated to pissing your pants every five minutes.

Drew pulled out her celestial bronze dagger from its sheath. The safety of a bathroom stall was really what she needed to let all of her troubles out. All summer long, she had been in Camp Half-Blood, where she was demoted from the queen bee to the resident bitch of the Aphrodite cabin. And it was all because of one Piper McLean.

That really wasn't true, now that she thought about it. Drew really just didn't have something that Piper had. The Asian girl didn't know what was wrong with her today — was it the anger at being forced to step down, or was it something else? But whatever it was that Piper had, it made sure that Drew just wasn't enough.

The whirlwind of angry thoughts whizzed around Drew's mind, taking hold of the girl. What was wrong with her? Was it that she just wasn't enough? Was it that she didn't have the looks, or the power, or the money? Was that why Silena had left her, why her mother had left her, and her stepmother had hated her?

She really didn't want to go down a trip through memory lane, but it almost seemed like she had no choice. That is until the pain brought her back from it.

Practically unconsciously, the dagger had reopened those healing wounds on her forearm. It almost felt good, like she deserved it. Or maybe it was the only constant thing in her life — the pain. She had thought that there were a few other common denominators, but none of them had remained with her for long. The pain, on the other hand, she knew would stay.

Drew dug the blade into her skin once again, dragging it sideways back and forth until the red liquid gushed out. She went down her forearm once again, slitting once again. Tears rose in her eyes, not from the pain, but from exactly what she wanted to avoid.

Shaking her head, she rinsed the blade off in the bathroom's faucet, making sure that nobody else was around to see her pain. Drew could at least try to stay as the queen bee of the school, even if that girl Sadie Kane was determined to make it as hard as possible for her.

The school bell jarred Drew back into consciousness. Quick as a flash, Drew wiped off the blood and swabbed it with a cotton wad, trying to make it look as old and dry as possible. She knew that it was unlikely that anybody would notice, and even if they did, they wouldn't care enough to ask about it. After all, what could be wrong with the cheer captain, in all of her dazzling glory?

Which reminded her...

Drew shot out of the bathroom like a bullet, trying to avoid being late for her musical theater class. She didn't love the class all that much (cheer was more her thing), but it was the only elective that she knew would be easy for her. Although she really didn't love that she had it the first thing in the morning, it didn't make her look all that flattering. She really wasn't a morning person, but really, which child of Aphrodite was?