Damn. Damn, damn, damn!

He's got me cornered. I'll never be able to escape. His strength, speed, agility.... I just can't beat that.

Why me? Why me? Why do these things keep happening?

What's wrong with me?

The giant man/bull/whatever began closing me in, pushing me farther and farther into the alley. He swung his giant axe skillfully, shifting it from his right hand to his left hand.

"Get away!" I roared in a coarse voice. I kept a tight grip on my homemade spear, pointing it threateningly to the monster's chest.

But the tactic didn't work. The man bull just narrowed his eyes and ran directly at me, axe gleaming in the dark street light.

And that's when I realized that my life would end soon.

My mother used to stare at me, whispering gently that I looked just like my father. She would caress my hair, claiming it was too beautiful to ever cut.

She'd use to sing to me too. Oldies like Mrs. Robinson, Red Rubber Ball, and Hey Jude. My mother would have me sit cross-legged in front of the warm fireplace with a cup of hot cocoa as she braided my hair, her voice filling the cold and empty rooms.

That was until I turned 13. As I was walking to school, something just snapped. And I turned around to face a crossbreed of a horse and a man, aiming an arrow at me. The best I could do to defend myself was to run to school, trying to outrun the beast.

But it was a hopeless attempt.

The centaur quickly blocked my path with ease. He smirked and raised his bow, but then lowered it as if he discovered it wasn't worth the time and effort.

He watched me for a long minute, his eyes observing every inch of my body.

Yet, in the moment exactly after that, my mom had yelled my name.

"Y/N!" she called. "Get in the car!"

The centaur, caught in a state of shock, stood as I ran.

And that was the day my mom told me she couldn't take care of me anymore. She didn't explain what the horse was, or why it came for me. She just said to me she'd send me off to a boarding school.

And then it was no more hot cocoa in front of the fireplace, or braided hair, or my mother's singing.

It was just me.

And so I ran away, before she could send me away. Before she could let me leave her.

The man bull halted. He looked down at a spot of blood trickling down his muscular chest in shock.

And then he crumpled to his knees with the sign of death very present. A sign I know all too well from vigorous exercising -- preparation for the next sign of some monster that would attack me.

I straightened my back and walked over cautiously by the man bull.

"He's dead," a low voice confirmed from behind the heap of meat. "Don't worry."

I crouched again with my spear ready to attack. "Who's there?" I called back.

The boy walked over, closer, with a golden sword in his hand. "The name's Percy Jackson," he answered with a slight hint of carelessness.

He's beautiful.

"What are you doing here?" I demanded. "This is my area."

The boy -- Percy, crossed his arms. "I just saved your life," he tossed. "I'm expecting at least a little gratitude."

I rolled my eyes. "Gratitude, whatever. I don't care about that. Just get out before I chop off your head."

But he made no move to. All Percy did was eye me, analyze me.

"You're a demigod," he concluded.

"I'm a New Yorker," I spit. "Leave. Now."

The boy had a certain intensity in his eyes, one that told me he wouldn't listen to me.

Which meant I'd have to kill him.

I let out a scream that scared off a few pigeons, and charged to the rude boy. My spear flew between my fingers, twirling like the birds that had flown so far away from me.

But the boy didn't even try to point his sword back at me. He just blew out a hot breath in the cold winter weather.

"Newbies," he groaned.

The boy dodged my first attempt at piercing his skin easily. But as he tried to grab my spear away from me, I faked a left and made a right instead.

My weapon stopped an inch away from his throat.

"Newbie?" I scoffed. "You wish.

But instead of finally leaving, the boy threw back his head and let out a deep laugh.

"What's so funny?" I demanded, pulling my spear back to my side. "I almost killed you!"

The boy looked at me with his sparkling sea green eyes.

He's beautiful.

"I'm just messing with you," he mocked. "C'mon, I'm gonna take you somewhere." Then, seeing my tattered clothing that showed a dirt-stained stomach, "And I'll get you something to eat, too."

"How can I trust you?" I requested skeptically.

The boy just smiled with his glowing teeth.

He's beautiful.

"Do I really seem like that bad of a guy?" he smirked.

He's beautiful.

I rolled my eyes. "Where are we going?" I asked.

He's beautiful.

How can someone be so goddamn beautiful?

"Camp Half-Blood," Percy answered. He gave me this lopsided smile that, although my knees became weak, persuaded me to walk anywhere for him.

~~~~~

From then on, I reluctantly knew the beautiful boy with the trademarked smile of mischief would be my everything.