So one time, this boy in my class - we were 12 years old and pretty rebelleous - convinced me to sneek down the hill and see how life was 'down there'. So, everything was arranged and one friday afternoon, Hermes and I went down the hill, feeling pretty badass (it was sort of forbidden to go down the hill, you know) and into the first little town we saw. It was the first amazing memory I can recall, ever. Tons of things were happening, at the same time, and I had no idea what was going on. I loved it. 

Life on the hill was planned and very well thought out. Nothing was spontaneous, or fun. At least not like I'd read in Aphrodite's secret books. I guess I was longing for something different and - however cliché that might sound - freedom? 
12 years may not seem that long, but as a 12 year old, it is pretty much your whole life - literally. All those 12 years I had lived on the Olympus, days hadn't changed.. Yes, of course, there were the first school day and other special days like my birthday, but those were exceptions. Aside from those, every day was the same, and I was fed up with it.

I think you could understand why I was shocked for the next few days, after my adventure with Hermes. We only walked downtown and looked at some markets - we were downhill for 2 hours max - but the marks it left on me were exaggarating. I had never experienced anything like that. Hermes, too. For the month after that, we were the cool kids, telling our stories to the other children at school.

One friday afternoon, we decided to do it again. So again, we sneeked down the hill, went to the same town and walked past the markets. Only this time, I saw the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen (don't tell Aphrodite, please). She was the bakers' daughter. She had long, wavy, blonde hair, floating around her in the wind. Her apple cheeks, freckles and wrinkly nose made you believe she was young and innocent, with a long and bright future to go. She had soft lips and a smile that would distract any man walking past. She was clothed in boys clothes, way too big for her - the baker wasn't the richest and this girl was the 4th girl on line. She looked fragile and petite in them, probably because she was way too thin, thanks to the bakers' poverty. She was stunning.
But there was one thing that made her stand out, that made me look closer. It was the look in her eyes. She smiled and danced and the corners of her mouth were always up, talking with customers and being happy - but when you looked into her eyes, you could see the pain and sadness dripping off. Everything she did - how she moved, talked, danced, laughed, lived, was to hold up the believe eveything was okay. At least, that was what I could see. Maybe it was just me. Anyways, that second time Hermes and I went downtown, I spotted the girl and I could not let her stand there. So I ran over and hugged her. I still don't know why I did, and why she did what she did, but I was so glad, so glad.