"Get in there, you damn bastard."
I was pushed into the locker, the metal door slamming in front of me, as I heard the distinct noise of the lock.
Now you may be wondering why I didn't fight back, well the answer was simple, cause I didn't want to.
I looked around me.
It was cramped.
Books were pressing themselves against me.
A few shelves were digging into my back.
It was entirely dark, almost no light filtering through except for a small visor at the top of the locker.
It was heavenly.
"I really needed the sleep," I said before dozing off, my body squirming as I put myself in the most comfortable position I could.
These lockers weren't exactly designed with napping in mind, but after the first few months of high school, I'd developed a knack for making the most of these small spaces. The darkness was comforting, wrapped around me like a blanket. The steady hum of fluorescent lights in the hallway outside created the perfect white noise.
It wasn't the first time I'd been shoved into a locker by the football team, probably wouldn't be the last either. They thought it was punishment. I considered it a free pass to skip Mr. Henderson's history class. Win-win, really.
I shifted slightly, feeling something jabbing into my lower back. Probably someone's forgotten protractor. I fished it out and slipped it into my pocket. Might come in handy later.
The muffled sounds of students rushing to class gradually faded away. The school settled into that peculiar quiet that comes when everyone is where they're supposed to be. Everyone except me.
I'm not sure how long I slept. Could've been minutes. Could've been hours. Time gets fuzzy when you're crammed in a metal box. Pretty sure I dreamed about the stars, though. Always do when I sleep sitting up.
Lazily my eyes opened once more, I was still in the locker.
"Huh, did they seriously just leave me here? I mean I know you're bullies but come on, where is the professionalism, the good sportsmanship? Tsk, tsk."
I placed my hand over the metal, as if thinking deeply but -
"HELP! I'M TRAPPED IN HERE."
I waited for a bit but no one came.
Seriously, how long was I sleeping for?
I pulled out my phone to check the time, only to find it dead.
Great.
Last I remembered, it was around 2 PM when Brad and his cronies decided I needed some quality time in my metal sanctuary. I tried listening for any sounds of students, teachers, even the janitor pushing his squeaky cart down the hallways. Nothing.
"Plan B, it is then," I muttered, massaging my legs since they had fallen asleep before moving my body a bit, pressing my back against the wall of the locker and lifting up my right leg with what little room I had, I placed it over where the lock was supposed to be at the other side. "One, two, three!"
I kicked forward, my leg meeting the locker in a resounding thud.
I kicked again.
Again.
And again.
Each impact sent vibrations through the metal box, rattling my teeth. My foot was starting to ache, but that was nothing new. I'd broken out of lockers before. It was all about finding the right spot and applying just enough force.
Until -
BAM
The locker door swung open, the lock lying on the ground, broken.
I stepped outside, stretching my arms up into the air and releasing a well-deserved yawn. My joints popped in protest, punishing me for contorting myself into unnatural positions for who knows how long.
The school was completely dark, and I could hear no noise. It was late, really late.
The only light that filtered through the windows, were from the moon and lampposts. The classroom doors stood like sentinels in the darkness, their small windows reflecting the pale light. The whole place had that eerie emptiness that only schools after hours can achieve, I honestly thought that there would have been a teacher or two still here (they lived in school after all) but no I was alone.
"Damn, I'm gonna get a scolding when I get back home," I added before putting my hands in my pockets and beginning to walk across the school corridors. "What should I tell them, that I was out with some friends? Nah, they won't believe that. Maybe I should just tell them the truth? Nah, they won't believe it either."
My foster parents, the Wilsons, were decent folks. Too decent, sometimes. Always worrying about me, asking questions about my day, wanting to know who my friends were. As if I had any.
Five schools in four years doesn't exactly build a strong social network, oh and I didn't keep going to different schools because I was a bad student or anything, in fact it was the opposite, I always got As, most stuff came naturally to me even when the words where jumbled up or I couldn't spend more than hour in one subject somehow I always knew what was right when the test came.
Either way I went to so many schools because I was a foster kid, each family was a new school district or even a new city, right now I was staying with a family in Minessota.
The Wilsons were my fifth foster family. Better than most, I'll give them that. Mrs. Wilson made waffles on Sundays and Mr. Wilson never raised his voice, even when I deserved it. They tried, really tried, to understand me. Not their fault I was weird, but such are the woes of life.
As I was thinking on what to say to my foster parents once I got back home, a light on the ceiling flickered.
My gaze shot up, the light turning off and on a few more times before finally falling to darkness once more.
"Maybe I should fix that," I added, my gaze still locked on the light. Then I looked through a window to see the moon high up in the air. "Nah, don't have the time."
The school at night was actually kind of beautiful, in a creepy, abandoned sort of way. The trophy case gleamed in the corner, showcasing achievements that belonged to people who would never know my name.
I ran my fingers along the row of lockers as I walked, until I finally made it to my own. My hand grabbed onto the locker key in my pocket and opened it up, I opened up my bag placing the proctor I had borrowed from whoever's locker I had been stuffed into after which I slung the backpack over one of my shoulders.
"Let's get out of here then," I muttered before falling into silence.
Not being able to think of anything, I just began to whistle a simple tune, turning over a corridor to the nearest exit. Yet as I whistled, I heard something else, or rather, that which I heard was wrong.
My whistle was dragging on for too long. It was like there was a second person whistling my own tune, trying to mimic me.
I stopped abruptly, the last note hanging in the air before fading away. The silence that followed felt eerie for some reason.
I craned my neck back but found nothing, and so I just continued to whistle. That was until all the lights in the corridor suddenly turned on, bright white for a moment before turning back off.
My heart rate picked up, a slight flutter of something that wasn't quite fear, but definitely wasn't comfort either. Curiosity, maybe? Or that sixth sense that tells you something isn't right, even when you can't put your finger on what exactly.
Then I heard it once more, the sound of my whistle.
Only I had stopped whistling.
A/N: Julius is one year older than Percy meaning the events of Lightning Thief have already occurred, it's March 18th right now, so that would put us a few months before the events of Sea of Monsters (it occurs in June)
Gonna give you guys the timeline.
Lightning Thief occurred in June.
Percy 13th Birthday in July.
Julius 14th Birthday in October
New Year, 20007
Story Starts March 18th