Percy was confused and conflicted with himself. Imagine discovering that your entire life, your family, and even your essence were simply written on a piece of paper by an author with nothing better to do. Scary, right? Now, imagine giving this information to a five-year-old child with ADHD and dyslexia. Well… the outcome wouldn't be the best.
The fact was that Percy didn't know what to do with this information; it was too much of a burden for him, in fact… too much weight for anyone with at least a brain in their head. He was dizzy, dazed, and above all, tired. Even after sleeping for two days, he could still feel his eyelids closing and his body and mind in an existential crisis, simply going into an economic mode of sanity. And he had nothing against that.
Slowly but surely, Percy fell into a deep and calm sleep, and before he knew it, he was sleeping peacefully in his mother's arms. However, he still managed to hear his mother's desperate screams.
— Percy! Percy! — The desperation was clear in her voice, and the way she called him seemed to echo in his mind. Sally Jackson was in a panic. She leaned over her son's body, her eyes filled with tears, her hand gently stroking his hair.
— Someone, please! We need help! — she shouted, her voice choked with worry. Despair consumed her as she began to look for a doctor, her feet hurriedly moving down the hospital corridor. It was a chaotic scene, with nurses and doctors moving quickly, but the world around her seemed to have become a blur. The only thing that mattered was her son.
Deep down, Percy's mind was in conflict. He was dreaming of everything he didn't know, fragmented memories of a life that wasn't his but still felt so real. As silence finally enveloped him, he was swept away by visions of a past he couldn't understand, a reality intertwined in a sea of uncertainties.
When he awoke, Percy found himself in a familiar place, yet there was a sense of strangeness. The room was the same, but the voices and sounds seemed distant. He didn't know if he was dreaming or awake. The soft sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting shadows that danced on the floor, and the smell of the sea seemed to emanate from somewhere deep within him.
Percy nestled against his mother, seeking the warmth and safety her presence provided. Yet, even in the tranquility, confusion consumed him. What will happen to us? The idea of being a character, a mere creation of an author, haunted him. How could he be real if everything he knew was a narrative?
The weight of doubt pressed down on him as exhaustion took him into a deep, albeit restless, sleep. When he finally fell asleep, it was as if the real world dissolved, giving way to dreams that took him to a distant past. He was in a vast field, surrounded by a deep blue sky, but the air was heavy with a tension he couldn't identify. Shadows danced around him, whispering stories of heroes and gods, but the voices were distant, almost unintelligible. The feeling that he belonged to something greater intensified as images of epic battles and fierce confrontations unfolded before his eyes.
At one moment, he found himself standing on a beach, the waves crashing against the rocks. A sense of familiarity flooded his heart. It was as if he had been there before. Then, a figure emerged from the depths of the ocean, a majestic presence radiating power and authority. Percy felt a visceral connection to that entity, a recognition that transcended time and space.
— Accept what you are — the voice resonated in his mind, and the figure vanished, leaving only the echo of the truth. Percy tried to reach for it, but the waters pulled him down, dragging him into a whirlwind of confusion and fear. He struggled, fighting against the current, while the voice continued to call him.
Then he awoke with a silent scream, his heart racing uncontrollably. The room was shrouded in shadows, and his mind was a storm of emotions. What did all this mean? He didn't know how to deal with those visions. The line between reality and fiction seemed thinner than ever.
Sitting on the bed, Percy looked out the window, where the moonlight illuminated the room. He needed to discover the truth. An irrepressible urge led him to the bathroom. With trembling hands, he looked at his reflection in the mirror. His face was there, familiar, but there was something deeper, something pulsing in his essence.
— I am Percy Jackson, son of Poseidon — he whispered to himself, like a mantra. But what if it wasn't true? Fear began to creep back into his mind. What if I was just an invention?
He approached the sink, recalling moments from his life that seemed distant. The smell of water, the sound of its flow, everything seemed to call him. Taking a deep breath, he extended his hands, allowing the water to trickle through his fingers. He closed his eyes and focused, trying to evoke what was hidden within him.
Please, please… He silently pleaded, the desire to connect with something greater than himself blossoming in his heart. The hazy memories began to clear, like a fog starting to dissipate. He felt a tension forming in his stomach, as if something was preparing to emerge.
Then, an intense pull coursed through him, and the water in the sink began to swirl around his fingers, forming small whirlpools. With each passing second, the energy intensified until the water erupted from the sink, overflowing and drenching his face. Percy recoiled, shocked, as the water enveloped him, a wave of euphoria and fear washing over his body. He was really doing this. He was Percy Jackson.
— I am… I am real! — he exclaimed, the truth finally taking root in his mind. A wave of acceptance enveloped him, dissipating the doubts and fears that haunted him. He was in the real world, and there was no denying it anymore.
Quickly drying himself, Percy returned to the bed where his mother slept peacefully beside him. He nestled against her, seeking the warmth and comfort her presence provided. However, one persistent thought kept him awake: I am Percy Jackson, and I am the son of Poseidon.
The security of being with his mother made his heart relax, and finally, he managed to surrender to sleep, hoping that the new day would bring answers to the questions that haunted him.