A/N: So, I had this idea like, two years ago. But when I wrote it, it sounded really crappy. So, I'm rewriting it! It takes place after the Last Olympian, but before Percy is kidnapped.

I risked a glance behind me. The giant black dog was gaining on me. Running faster, I stumbled over a stone. Sometimes having bare feet can really suck. My foot was now bleeding, and the dog only ran faster.

Whipping around madly, I growled at it. Maybe it would think I had my own territory.

Unfortunately, I had no such luck. It lunged at me, and I grabbed the sharp rock that had caused me to stumble. Holding it tightly, I threw it at the beast, hoping to distract it. I had a feeling a rock couldn't kill it.

That's when a girl with dark, frizzy hair stepped between it and me. She brandished a strange, bronze-looking sword and growled something in Greek. The hound stumbled, but stood its ground. Crap. It would have been nice if it had disappeared. I passed out there, lack of food and sleep taking over.

/*\

I awoke to a deeply tanned girl, about sixteen, with curly blond hair, spoon-feeding me pudding. Well, that was odd. The pudding tasted like mozzarella cheese.

A boy who also looked about sixteen, with black hair, sea green eyes, and a necklace with five beads on it was standing over me. "Oh, so she's awake." He said.

"W- where am I?" I stuttered.

The girl smiled kindly. "Safe."

I sat right up, remembering the girl who had saved me. "Where's the dark haired girl?" I asked.

The boy looked at the girl, confused. "Who?"

"I bet she means Clarisse." The girl said. "Clarisse did say that she saved a girl from a hellhound, and her description matches. Black hair with a sea green streak, sea green eyes, tan skin, a ratty shirt."

I frowned. That didn't seem like me. Last I remembered, I had light brown hair, and brown eyes. Then again, the last time I had looked in a mirror was right before my mother had died, when I was eleven. Was it really possible that my appearance had changed that much in three years?

"Could I look in a mirror?" I asked, suddenly worried. If my appearance had changed that much, maybe something was wrong.

The girl shrugged and handed me one. "My name is Annabeth, by the way. The boy is Percy."

I nodded, but I was pretty busy staring at myself. Holy crap, I had changed a lot! For one, I actually looked my age: 14. Like Annabeth had said, I now had long, wavy black hair, with a sea green streak running through it. The streak matched the color of my eyes perfectly, and my skin was just a hint more tan than average. My lips were full and pink- well, that had changed a lot too. They used to be thin and dull. My stubborn chin poked out as usual, and my bangs framed my heart-shaped face. My one big annoyance: my nose was still REALLY small. Way too small for my liking.

My shirt was ratty. Well, what can you expect from a girl living on the streets? I had no way to make money, no parents, no shelter, and no clothes. I had to develop a talent for stealing, and quick. So I did.

"What was the pudding stuff you were feeding me?" I asked, setting the mirror down gently.

"It's called ambrosia. There are two different kinds: the pudding kind and the lemon-bar kind. And, thanks for not burning up. I don't like cleaning up ashes."

"Um, you're joking, right?" I asked nervously.

Annabeth looked very seriously at me. "You tell me. Am I a daughter of Athena?"

I looked her up and down. "No." I laughed. So it was all a joke. No one knew my secret.

Annabeth smiled. "Wrong! I am very much a daughter of Athena."

Ah, crap. It was real. So it was possible. Mom had always said it was so, but until today, I hadn't believed it.

"What did you mean, clean up my ashes?" I asked carefully. If I wanted to play this out right, I would have to act clueless.

"If you eat ambrosia and you're not a demigod, you burn up into ashes. Even if you are, if you eat too much, you still risk burning up."

"Demigod? I'm not very good with French, but that means half god. Are you saying that dad was a… a god?" I tried to act disbelieving. Luckily, I'm a pretty good actress.

Annabeth nodded. "Was he missing for most or all your life?"

Well, now I could tell the truth. I nodded vigorously.

Annabeth smiled. "Explains a lot, doesn't it?"

It sure did. My mind flashed back to a few… unfortunate incidents. And the one that had changed my life forever.

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I was standing in the kitchen, my mom smiling at me. She worked the fryers without looking. A little bit of oil splatted my arm, and everything went white. Suddenly, my mom was soaked, the unfinished fries on the floor. "Oh, Mom, I'm so sorry," I stammered. The 9-year-old me started to pick up the fallen food, wincing as my fingers touched the still-hot fries.

She smiled. Apparently, the water didn't bother her. "It's all right, dear." She didn't wear her veil when she was with me, only when with customers. My mother knelt down to help me pick up the soggy fries. She winced as her back cracked, reminding me that she wasn't as young as she looked.

/*\

A seven-year-old me cuddled my stuffed animal snake, which I had named Snakey. Very creative, I know. A strand of hair fell in my eyes, and I pushed it out of the way. A tall man walked into my room, searching around. He seemed to radiate power, reminding me of a storm about to break loose. And he scared me. So I hid under my massive pile of stuffed animals. I clutched Snakey tightly, more afraid than I had ever been. He looked right my way, and I closed my eyes and concentrated on making myself as small and unnoticeable as possible. After a few minutes, he left. Relieved, I sat up and ran to my mom. I told her everything that had just happened.

Her face contorted with worry. "If something like that ever happens again, do exactly what you did." She said. "My beautiful Enna already knows what to do."

/*\

At age eleven, I was old enough to help my mother cook. So I did everything I could, to spare her the pain of working so hard to raise a child, own a restaurant, and work on her statues. I was working the fryers and flipping hamburgers at the same time when the little bell above the door rang, signaling that there were customers. My ears were sharp, because that was the front of the warehouse and I was at the back.

I nearly said, "Coming!" But reminded myself that my mother would get it. She wanted me to stay back here unless she called for me.

"We're orphans." I heard a girl's voice say. Well, that stunk for her. Or, them, since she'd said 'we'.

My mother responded compassionately. She was always so nice. "Orphans? But, my dears, surely not!"

"We got separated from our caravan," a boy said. "Our circus caravan. The ringmaster told us to meet him at the gas station if we got lost, but he may have forgotten, or maybe he meant a different gas station. Anyway, we're lost. Is that food I smell?"

"Oh, my dears, you must come in, poor children." My mom said. She said something I couldn't catch, though she was probably introducing herself.

My burgers had a tantalizing aroma steaming off them. A third person- a boy- said, "Um, we don't have any money ma'am."

"No, no, children. No money. This is a special case, yes? It is my treat, for such nice orphans."

"Thank you, ma'am," the girl said.

"Quite all right, Annabeth. You have such beautiful gray eyes, child."

That caught me off guard. How had my mother known the girl's name? Why did she sound so odd, almost angry?

My mother came back into the kitchen and hissed angrily. "I will have my revenge on the Gray-Eyed One, and the child is here. The boy, though, I will save. He reminds me so much of Poseidon."

I handed my mother the burgers and fries and made up a few milkshakes. She took them out, her veil back on.

I relaxed in the kitchen, the hissing of the fryers calming me. After about five minutes, I heard Annabeth yell, "Look away from her!"

Oh dear. Mother had taken off her veil and was trying to make new statues. However, these three seemed wiser.

Worried, I wanted to go out and help, but I remembered what Mom had told me. "Hide."

So I hid. After ten minutes, I heard a terrible hiss. That wasn't my mother. No, something much worse had happened.

Afraid for both myself and my mother, I peeked out, my eyes just barely above the snack bar table.

My mother's head lay on the ground, her body splayed wildly three feet away from it. Her head was oozing green slime, the snakes she had for hair tugging at the shoelaces of one of the boys.

They were laughing, the two boys were. They were laughing. They had just… just killed my mother, and they were… laughing! I was furious, scared, and sad all at once. Being scared won over, and I shrank back behind the counter, rocking myself and crying softly. The Annabeth was the only one who wasn't laughing. She sounded thoughtful, and regretful. Did she know I was back here? Maybe. I would never know.

"Are you all right?" Annabeth asked, snapping me out of my flashback. "You seem kind of… lost."

I nodded, only vaguely aware of my surroundings. "I'm fine. Just… thinking."

"About what?" She asked.

Oh my gods. My eyes snapped open. Annabeth. This was the girl who had been there when my mother was killed. And Percy… he was the one who had killed my mother. I recognized him.

"Are you okay? What's your name?" Annabeth shook me.

I pushed her away. "My name is Enna, and I'm fine." I laid down on the cot and slept, weeping silently in my head.