Allen1996
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Like a lamb to slaughter: I
🕑 Added 2025-12-01 21:57:48 +0000 UTCI woke up burning and in pain.
The heat lived under my skin, not like when you have a fever that goes away, but something that stayed, something that lived in my bones like it would never ever leave.
It moved through my arms and legs, wrapped around my ribs, pushed hot fingers against my eyes.
If I was a normal kid, I would've screamed.
Would've cried for Mom, for Percy, for somebody to make it stop.
But I was used to it now.
five years is a long time when you're only five
I blinked slow in the dark hospital room, waiting for my eyes to work better, waiting for the worst part to go away.
It would get a little better, it always did after I woke up, like my body remembered how to pretend everything was okay, how to lie about what was wrong.
The burning would turn into just hurting, and I could handle that if I didn't think about it too much, if I thought about other stuff instead.
Like Mom sleeping.
She was curled up in the chair next to my bed, the uncomfortable plastic one that nobody wanted to sit in. Her dark hair, black like mine, like the ocean at nighttime fell across her face, and even when she was sleeping she looked tired.
The kind of tired that was more than just needing a nap, that lived in the lines by her eyes and how her shoulders looked.
my fault
Percy was sleeping too, spread out over two chairs pushed together, his mouth open a little, one arm hanging down toward the floor. He'd wanted to stay even though Mom said he could go back to Gabe's apartment, could sleep in a real bed instead.
But Percy never left when I was in the hospital.
Never ever.
my guard
my protector
my big brother who shouldn't have to be
I was happy I hadn't screamed.
Happy the pain was normal enough now that it didn't surprise me, didn't make me yell.
They needed to sleep.
They always needed to sleep, and they never got enough because they were too busy worrying about me, too busy watching to make sure I was still breathing, still okay, still not dead.
I hated my body.
The thought came easy, like breathing.
I hated it the way you hate being stuck somewhere you can't get out of.
I hated that it felt like I was trapped inside something that didn't work, that hurt me every single day just because.
Other kids, normal kids, they ran and played and climbed stuff and did all the things kids do.
They probably never even thought about their bodies.
Their bodies just worked, just did what they wanted without hurting them.
Mine hurt me for everything.
Getting out of bed?
It hurt.
Walking to the bathroom?
It hurt.
Holding a crayon to color?
It hurt, hurt, hurt, until even tiny things felt like trying to climb a really really big mountain.
like Atlas
Mom told me stories sometimes, when the pain was really bad, when I couldn't sleep. Greek myths, she called them, about heroes and monsters and gods who were mean to people.
She told me about Atlas, the big strong guy who had to hold up the sky forever because the gods were mad at him. She said she named me after him, Andromeda Pallas Jackson, the Pallas being one of his name too which was a really big name for a kid who could barely walk across a room without his legs hurting.
"I named you Pallas," she whispered once, pushing hair off my forehead, "because the stories say he could handle anything. That he was strong enough to hold up the sky forever."
I didn't want to be Atlas.
I didn't want to handle stuff forever.
I didn't want to be stuck holding something heavy that I could never put down, never get away from.
Atlas was trapped just like me, except the stories made it sound cool instead of awful.
being hurt forever isn't cool
I hated that I couldn't run.
Couldn't chase Percy when we played tag, couldn't kick a ball, couldn't do the stuff brothers do together.
Percy tried anyway, he'd go slow, would make up games where I didn't have to move much, would carry me on his back when I got too tired.
But I knew. I knew he was making himself go slower and be less fun so I wouldn't feel so bad.
I hated that he had to protect me.
Kids at daycare, before I got too sick to go, they said mean things.
Called me names.
Freak.
Weak.
Baby.
Percy punched Tommy Alvarez so hard Tommy's nose bled, got in big trouble with the teachers, got sent home with a note Mom had to sign.
He never said sorry.
Never said he felt bad about it.
Just looked at me with those green eyes, like Dad's eyes, Mom said, even though I never met Dad and told me nobody could be mean to his little brother.
but he shouldn't have to fight for me
he shouldn't have to fight at all
I was dead weight.
The words sat in my chest like a rock.
Mom worked and worked at the candy store, came home smelling like sugar and so so tired, and she still had to deal with me.
Had to take me to doctors who couldn't figure out what was wrong, who gave me medicine that didn't work, who looked at her like they felt sorry for her.
She should've had a normal kid.
A kid who could run around and play and not cost so much money and worry.
Percy should've had a normal brother.
Someone to play with, to have fun with, instead of someone he had to watch all the time like I was homework or chores.
And Dad, wherever he was, he probably knew. Probably knew before I was even born that I'd be like this, and that's why he left.
Why he never came back, never called, never sent anything that said he cared.
He figured out I was going to be a mess and he left before he had to see it.
smart
wish I could leave me too
Hospital walls felt more like home than any apartment we lived in.
We moved a lot, Gabe, Mom's boyfriend, didn't like staying places too long but hospitals were always the same.
White walls, bright lights, that smell like cleaning stuff trying to hide something yucky.
The nurses knew my name.
The doctors had big folders with all my stuff in them. I slept here more than in my real bed.
I hated everything.
so many things to hate
the easiest thing to feel
Hating stuff was easier than anything else.
Easier than being happy, easier than hoping, easier than thinking things would get better.
Hating was simple.
Easy.
It didn't need me to do anything, didn't make me tired like other feelings did, didn't let me down when it couldn't fix stuff.
Hating had been with me forever, my oldest friend, even if it also made me feel mean and angry inside where nobody could see.
I could feel it now, curled up in my chest like a sleeping cat.
if the burning lives in me anyway
might as well have the hating there too
Real slow, real careful, I moved my legs over the side of the bed.
It hurt, my knees hurt, my hips hurt, my ankles felt like they might break.
I bit my lip hard, tasted something like pennies where my teeth cut, and waited for my body to remember how to work.
The IV in my arm pulled a little, and I had to be careful not to pull it out.
That would make the machines beep, would wake everybody up, would make a big mess nobody needed.
they worry too much already
don't make it worse
I put my feet on the floor, felt how cold it was through the thin socks they gave me.
Standing up was really really hard, like someone put broken glass in my bones, like my muscles were rubber bands stretched too tight.
I held onto the bed rail really hard and tried to breathe right.
breathe in
breathe out
don't fall
don't be loud
Percy moved in his sleep, said something I couldn't understand.
I froze, waited, watched until he got still again.
Mom didn't move.
She was too tired to wake up from little sounds, from a sick kid trying to walk.
I took a step.
Then another one.
Every step felt like the hardest thing ever, like my body was yelling at me to stop, to get back in bed, to quit being dumb.
But I needed to go to the bathroom, and I wasn't going to use the bedpan again, wasn't going to do that if I could walk instead.
So I walked, one terrible step at a time, pulling the IV thing next to me because I couldn't hold it and not fall at the same time.
this must be how Atlas feels
except he's holding up the whole sky
and I'm just trying to walk
The bathroom was tiny, just big enough for the toilet and sink.
I got inside, closed the door really quiet, and leaned against it, breathing hard.
I saw myself in the mirror over the sink and looked away fast.
don't wanna see
never wanna see
But I couldn't help it.
Couldn't help looking back, seeing my own eyes, green like Percy's, like Dad's maybe, like something pretty that got put in someone ugly.
I looked like a ghost.
So pale my skin looked see-through, like the sun never ever touched me, like I was almost dead already.
Dark circles under my eyes made them look sunken in, empty, too old for five.
I was too skinny, the doctors said so, Mom worried about it, tried to make me eat even when food made my tummy hurt.
My hospital gown was way too big, hanging off my shoulders, making me look even smaller.
The only thing I didn't totally hate was my hair.
It went down past my shoulders in long black curls, just like Mom's.
She let me grow it when I asked, brushed it nice when I was too tired, never said I should cut it even though Gabe said I looked like a girl, said boys shouldn't have long hair, said lots of things that made Mom's face go all tight.
Percy tried growing his hair too, when I first started. "
We'll match!" he said, smiling big, messing up my hair.
"Brothers with the same hair!"
But Percy got bored after a while. Said it was too much work, too annoying, kept getting in his face when he ran around.
So he cut it short again.
And I knew even being just five I knew that he only tried because of me, because he didn't want me to feel alone.
everything he does is for me
everything's about the sick kid
I turned on the sink, put my hands under the water, splashed it on my face.
And everything changed.
The burning in my body, that thing that was always there, that fire under my skin, it got better.
Not gone, never gone, but better, like someone turned it down.
The tired feeling that made my arms and legs feel so heavy got lighter.
My head felt clearer, thoughts coming easier.
The water ran down my face, dripped off my chin, got my hospital gown wet.
alive
I feel alive
I didn't get it.
Didn't know why water helped when nothing else did, when all the medicine and doctor stuff didn't do anything.
Sometimes, when we went to Montauk, Mom's favorite beach place, I'd sit in the little waves for a long long time, letting the ocean wash over me, feeling almost normal.
Almost okay.
Better than any medicine.
Better than anything doctors gave me.
just water
just the ocean
something I can't explain
I dried my face on my sleeve, looked at myself one more time.
Still pale.
Still tired.
Still wrong.
But better than when I woke up, better than just the burning.
I left the bathroom, walked back into the room where Mom and Percy were still sleeping.
The IV stand's wheels made little squeaky sounds, and I made a face, but they didn't wake up.
Good.
They needed sleep more than I needed anyone awake.
But I didn't get back in bed.
I kept walking instead, past my bed, past the door to the hallway with bright lights and the nurses and other sick kids crying.
I went the other way, toward the window at the end of the room, toward the door nobody really used because it went to a balcony patients weren't supposed to go on.
supposed to
but the lock's been broken forever
and the nurses don't check
I pushed the door open, it was hard, my arms were shaky and weak and went outside.
The night air hit my face, cold and clean, smelling like the city, cars and trash and something else, maybe rain coming soon.
The balcony was small, just a little ledge, probably for hospital people to go smoke.
A metal fence went along the edge, and past that was the city, spread out like a giant thing made of lights.
New York City at night was pretty.
I hated everything
but not this
Up here, I could pretend.
Could pretend I was normal, just a regular kid looking at lights, thinking about tomorrow, about playing with friends, about all the normal stuff normal kids thought about.
Up here, the pain was still there but it felt far away, like it was happening to someone else.
Up here, everything seemed possible.
"There you are."
The voice came from behind me, a lady's voice but hungry and wrong, and every part of me that knew how to stay alive, every part that sick kids have because our bodies already hurt us started screaming inside.
I turned around, slow, because my body couldn't go fast even when I was scared.
A nurse was standing in the doorway.
At least, she had nurse clothes on, had the same badge thing.
But something was wrong about her.
Her smile was too big, her eyes were too shiny, showing the city lights in a way eyes shouldn't.
She looked at me the way Gabe looked at pizza, like something to eat up.
wrong wrong wrong
run
but nowhere to run
Behind me was the fence, and past that was falling down really really far that would make me go splat.
In front was the door, and she was blocking it, her body too big in the doorway, taking up too much space.
"Your scent," she said, and her voice made my skin feel crawly, made the burning inside get hotter.
"You smell so good. Like something different, sweet, special, different from the others. I knew I had to find you. I feel like I went crazy looking for you."
My throat closed up.
Words got stuck, trapped behind being scared that tasted like metal in my mouth.
"Looking—" I got out, barely talking. "Looking for me? Why?"
She smiled bigger.
Her teeth were like knives.
Lots and lots of them, shark teeth, scary teeth, teeth made to rip meat off bones.
Her mouth got bigger and bigger, splitting her face in ways faces aren't supposed to split, and the smile kept going and going until her whole head looked like just teeth and wanting to eat me.
"To eat you, of course."
The child, Andromeda Pallas Jackson, named for holding things he never wanted to hold and so much more didn't understand what was happening. He knew pain, knew hurting, knew how his body hurt him every day. But this was different. This was pain from outside, from the world deciding he needed to suffer even more. Such was fate’s decree and thus how it would be.
Her body changed.
It happened too fast to see right, like when a movie skips.
One second she looked kind of like a person, kind of and the next she was something else.
Her arms got longer, bones making cracking sounds, fingers growing claws that shined like knives.
Wings came bursting out of her back, big and leathery, filling up the whole balcony, covering up the city lights.
Her legs bent backwards wrong, popping sounds, feet turning into bird claws that scraped the ground.
Her face, what was left of it was like a nightmare.
Eyes too big, glowing yellow.
The mouth full of knife teeth opened wider, with gross spit strings between the teeth, and she made a sound like a bird and a screaming lady at the same time.
monster
real monster
monsters are real
She moved so fast.
One second by the door.
Next second right in front of me, crossing the space faster than thinking, faster than being scared.
Her hand, claw, whatever it was swung at me and I couldn't move away, couldn't do anything.
She hit me across the face.
Pain exploded, different from the burning, sharp and right now and new.
My head snapped to the side, my body going with it, floating for a second before I hit the ground.
The concrete scraped skin off my hands, my face, rocks digging into skin that already hurt too much.
Something warm, blood, had to be blood, dripped down my face.
I was crying.
Didn't know it until I tasted salt mixed with the blood taste, until I couldn't see right and didn't know if it was from crying or getting hit or both.
The monster laughed.
She sounded happy, like a kid who got a new toy. "Yes! Tears and being scared make the meat taste better! Make it delectable!"
Her foot kicked me in the stomach before I could curl up, before I could protect myself.
The kick picked me up off the ground, sent me flying backwards, and for one really scary moment I was in the air, the city lights spinning, the fence getting closer—
gonna fall
gonna die
this is it
Something grabbed my wrist really really hard.
Pain went up my arm, she was squeezing too tight, my bones grinding and then she was throwing me, tossing me like I was nothing.
My back hit the wall by the door, and I heard something go crack.
Everything went white.
Not white like light.
White like pain so bad it made everything else disappear, burned through every part of me, made the always-burning feel like nothing.
Something broke, my ribs maybe, or my back, or something I needed to stay alive.
I couldn't breathe.
Couldn't think.
Could only feel pain on top of pain on top of pain until I was drowning in it.
Through the tears and the hurting, I could see her coming.
Slow now.
Taking her time.
Like the lions in those shows Percy liked, the ones who played with animals they were gonna eat, who knocked them around just because they could.
That broke through the scared.
that made me remember my hating.
that made me angry in a way I'd never been angry, not at my body, not at being sick, not at other kids being okay when I wasn't.
This was different angry, clean angry, angry at something that should be angry at.
She wanted to play with me.
Wanted to hurt me more before she killed me.
Wanted to make me hurt because it was fun.
no
NO
The angry was so big it felt cold.
Felt like winter, like ice, like the opposite of the burning in my bones.
It spread through my chest, through my arms, through everywhere, and it was sharp and clear and strong in a way nothing ever felt strong before.
The monster reached for me, claws out, mouth opening to show all those scary teeth.
The cold inside me came out.
The power in his blood, from a father who lived in the deep ocean, who controlled water and was scary and strong, it woke up. Not nice. Not gentle. But like a big wave, like the ocean when it wishes to devour it all into its abyss.
I felt worse pain than ever in my whole life.
My body was cold, so cold I could feel ice in my blood, in my bones, everywhere inside.
But at the same time I was burning hotter than ever, like my body was fighting the cold and the burning at once, like I was getting ripped apart from inside by two things that both wanted to kill me.
It felt like dying.
It felt like being born.
It felt like every tiny part of me was screaming.
But it felt good.
Because the monster in front of me, the thing that wanted to eat me, that hurt me, that thought I was weak and easy, she exploded from the inside.
Ice came bursting out of her.
Not normal ice, not the kind from the freezer or on puddles when it's cold.
This was ice like knives, like swords, like winter when everything dies.
It came shooting out of her chest, her back, her arms, her wings, sharp and gold and wrong in the best way.
She didn't even scream.
Just froze, really froze, her body going stiff, her yellow eyes getting big, and then the ice kept growing, spreading, until she was stuck in it, like a statue made of ice and monster.
Gold ice.
why gold?
I didn't have time to think about it.
Didn't have time to wonder or ask questions or understand what just happened, what I just did.
Because everything hurt too much.
Because I was cold and hot and broken and dying.
Because the world was getting dark around the edges, everything getting smaller and smaller, my body giving up after I made it do the impossible thing.
sorry
sorry mom
sorry percy
I tried
The last thing I saw was the ice, pretty and scary, gold like sunlight in water, sharp like the angry I felt, strong like I never was.
The last thing I felt was someone touching my forehead.
It felt like the ocean, like Montauk, like sitting in the waves while Mom watched and Percy made sandcastles.
It felt like home in a way nothing ever did, like belonging, like maybe, just maybe, someone cared.
Pater?
The last thing I heard was Mom's voice, scared, yelling my name, and under it, mixed in, a man's voice I didn't know.
Singing.
A sleepy song in words I didn't know, quiet and sad and nice, like waves on the beach, like the ocean singing kids to sleep.
Then nothing.
just cold
just dark
just the burning
finally
for a moment
gone
Comments
Phantom knight who can’t think of a better nicknam
Don’t go quietly into the night rage scream and burn defy the fates and feed them there own loom
