Ελληνική ζωή μου (My Greek Life)

This is a story about a girl who lived in Acient Greece. Her family is torn apart by the gods and she sets out to seek revenge. What will happen in her journey to Mount Olympus?

2Likes
4Comments
674Views
AA

1. Chapter 1

Μάιος (May) Ημέρα του Ανέμου (Wind Day) 2 hours after sunrise

Today is the day that Acrisias, my wretched step-mother’s son, was going military school to learn to be a soldier. He is only 18 years of age, although he is very fit and athletic, after working in the fields’ day in and day out. He is a very fast runner too. The fastest in our village in fact. But because he was going to this school, we all knew he would eventually join the army and leave us. It is a grievous day in our little brick hut by the Esputomo River, near Athens in ancient Greece.

“Limbrious!” my step-mother, Enoll, yelled, “Get over here and cleanse these soiled clothes!”

“Coming!” I replied instantly. I hated cleansing the soiled work robes that my father, Dexicos and my brother used, but I knew that if I denied her, she would surly beat me.

“Now Limbrious!” she yelled, to get my attention again.

I sulked over to the bucket that held the soil robes. I grasped it and dragged it down to the river. The bucket was surprisingly heavy. Once I got to the river, I started the long, numbing process of cleaning the rags in the cold river.

Many hours later, when the sun was right above my head, I was finished. I laid the wet clothes out to dry on some hot rocks and went inside for my midday meal. For I was ravished, because I have not eaten in 3 days, for this is usual. But when I arrived, there was no meal. I looked around the cooking room, but found no food, besides some stale bread and moldy cheese. I walked around our hut to see if my father or perhaps my step-mother was around anywhere. I stopped, I had heard something. It sounded like….crying. I followed the sound and came upon my father’s bedroom. There lay my father, unmoving, in his bed. My step-mother kneeled beside him, crying and talking to him, for she was the source of the crying I had heard earlier. In the back of the room, stood my brother, stony faced and silent, sadly looking at my father’s unmoving body. I walked up to my brother, a question in my eyes. Is he? my eyes asked. I am afraid that he is my brother’s eyes replied. No. He can’t be! Thantos (the god of the dead) couldn’t have taken him to Charon (the ferryman that takes the dead across the River Styx)! My loving, patient, caring father is NOT gone. But then looking at his pale lifeless face, I knew that it was true. My dear father, who had always cared for me, was dead.

Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...