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My heart hammers nails into my ribcage and part of me wants to stare at his beautiful smile for the rest of my immortal life, but I’m absorbed by my worries and fear to handle my emotions involving him right now. “Adonis,” I whisper, peeling his hands off my shoulders. “I have to go.”

    I brush past him, sprinting out the back exit door and I hear him yell, “Are you going to be okay?”

    What I want to tell him is no, Adonis, I don’t know if I’ll ever be okay ever again. Right now, my life is a global catastrophe, an asteroid disintegrating the planet, a tsunami wiping out an entire country. For the last five thousand years, I’ve been moved all over the world. For the last five thousand years, I’ve been lied to repeatedly. I’ve been laughed at, tortured by a voice that I was led to believe was an illusion. I’ve had to pretend to be a million different people when all I’ve really wanted to be is myself.

    But I don’t tell him any of that. I can’t tell him any of that. I just keep running and running and don’t look back.

    I run until I’m standing in front of my house. Shiny black paint fills up my gaze and I scowl at the
Ferrari
in my driveway. “Freakin great.” My dad is here and I’m one hundred percent sure he’s not here to wish me a happy birthday.

    In my eyes, Zeus had earned my respect, but that’s pretty much it. I don’t call him dad and we don’t have any type of father-daughter relationship. Actually, I don’t have any fond memories of him at all. He was just there, hanging around like an antique tapestry hanging on the wall in a person’s home.

    Mom had told me once that he never came around because of Hera. Everyone on Olympus knew that her jealous nature could be a vengeful bitch, but I’d always thought that was a lousy excuse, a lousy excuse because Zeus was and always will be the type of God who likes to have his cake and eat it too. As long as I’ve known him, he’s always wanted the best of both worlds. Those worlds being the mortal world and the immortal.

    Walking around to the back door, I try to keep all of my emotions in check. I try to tell myself to stay calm, but it’s impossible. Disloyalty, Fury, and ambiguity melt together inside of me and I can hear the crackle from a lit fuse. I can feel the sparks as they scorch my organs. I’m a bomb.  In minutes I’m going to explode.

    I slip into the kitchen through the sliding glass door. Locking my knees in place, I try to be as quiet as possible and I strain to listen for the sound of voices. I hear nothing.

    The square country kitchen with apple wallpaper is submerged in silence. Then I raise my head, slitting my eyes when I hear movement. Floorboards above me spit out creaks and groans and the sound of footsteps thud down the steps. Panic is a fresh stream trickling through my veins, branching off at my heart. I can feel it beating in my throat.

    No…I can’t confront mom yet.

    There’s huge part of me that wants to. Confronting her and demanding answers was all I could think about on the run home, but I have a feeling that when mom and Zeus get in here they are going to be talking about what I want and need to know anyway. And what if I confront mom after Zeus leaves? Will she laugh at me again and try to convince me I’m dreaming all of this up? Will she tell me that I’m crazy and this voice is just a figment of my imagination?

    Muffled voices carry down the hall. Footsteps pound like the beat of a drum at the executioners block. I can’t let them see me. I spin around frantic. Where can I go? Where can I hide? Turning my head my eyes center on the pantry door. No… Mom checks the pantry every time she walks into the kitchen. One of the cupboards? No. There’s no way I’ll be able to pretzel my long lengthy limbs enough to fit. Laughter rings out like church bells on a Sunday.

    Shit! Shit! Shit!

    Out of the corner of my eye, I glimpse the small round kitchen table with the floral