A scrapped short story in the style of Percy Jackson and the lightning thief

I’ve always been really unlucky.

Unlucky enough to still be alive to write this, and by my standards. That's pretty damn unlucky. If you don’t know who I am then good. You’ve been lucky enough to never have stumbled across this terribly upsetting book until now, and you still have plenty of time to put it back and go pick up a different, happier book. One that you can pretend is just fiction instead of accepting it as fact. But if you still insist on reading. Go on. I won’t stop you.

My name is Atlas Cade

I’m twenty three years old, and just ten years ago, I was living the high life in Las Vegas with my dad. Everything was perfectly fine, at the time I couldn't have dreamed of a better life. I lived right next to a beautiful beach, I had the best friend in the whole world and an awesome dad. Perfect. Perfect and normal.

Am I normal?

Absolutely not, that would be too easy.

If luck had ever been on my side, then maybe things would have turned out better, maybe when I fell out of that third story apartment window, that truck filled with pillow’s wouldn't have caught me. Maybe a car would have hit me when I crossed that busy street at five. At least then I could’ve been spared from my inevitable fate.

But unfortunately, luck is nothing but cruel, almost crueler than the goddess behind it. What others consider a blessing, exists just to laugh in my face. Taunting me, no matter what I do. But it wasn't always like this.

Thirteen years ago, July fourth, 2009. That night was cool, yet inviting. That salty air made you want to just bury yourself in the sand and sleep more than anything. Gods that was a good night. At least for me it was. I was excited, and just couldn't wait for the next day. So excited that I could barely sleep, but who can when you're just about to become a teenager.