I always thought that my parents were hopelessly, helplessly, madly in love. There were pictures and posters of them plastered all across Olympus, announcing their marriage and the birth of their "beautiful baby girl" (which, as you may have caught on by now, is me.) My name is Alexis Jackson, and this is the story of how I got my parents back together (more or less).

I was born in the beautiful city of New York, with its acidic gas and polluted rivers and bloodthirsty gangs. No, really, when I say bloodthirsty gangs, I mean it. The Furies are scattered all over the place, disguised as a hot dog vender, a homeless person, even a sixth grade teacher called Mrs Dodds.

But don't get me wrong. I love New York, and all its dangerous, glorious beauty. My dad wanted me to go to Camp Half-Blood once I turned five, but my mom didn't think I was ready yet. They both thought that sending me there would only make me regret having a family, but that isn't the case, because I loved it there. The fresh water springs and Aunt Juniper, a green-skinned, flawless Naiad would always lighten the place up with beautiful flowers and exotic smells, like coconut or the candyfloss machines I used to pass in Montauk.

I had the perfect family. I had a perfect life, and I even got what I wanted most of the time. I was well behaved, took my pocket money in sections, even donated a few drachma's to the Camp Counseller. I didn't know that my whole life would take a turn for the worst in just one day.

I was eight when it happened. Enrolled in a mortal school, a huge smile plastered across my face, and a small bag slung over my shoulder. I remember wearing the biggest smile, because it was Friday and Bethany asked me to come over.

The atmosphere around the house was eerily creepy when I came home. No music, not even my mom sitting on the porch reading a book, waiting for me to come home so she could give me the biggest hug on earth. She'd kiss me on the forehead and tell me that she wanted to know every single detail about my day, then my dad would come out of the house with a cheeky grin on his face. They'd both pull me inside and give me blue cookies and dyed blue lemonade, their arms around each other, smiling as they looked proudly down at their little girl.

This time, I was mistaken.

Because this time, there were no blue cookies. There was no dyed blue lemonade. There was no "mom on the porch reading a book". There certainly wasn't a cheeky grin on my dads face. There were no proud smiles, no happiness. Nothing.

I entered the house and a waft of tension found its way to me. I dropped my bag and didn't even bother to lock the front door. I ran to the living room and saw a blue suitcase zipped and full of clothes, just lying there, staring at me with solemn eyes. I remembered that suitcase. It was the one my dad brought with him when we went on the trip to the Underworld, to visit Uncle Nico.

So what was it doing there, lying in the middle of the living room floor? Where was my suitcase, and moms? Was he going by himself? Was Uncle Nico in trouble?

"Alex!"

I spun around to meet the eyes of my mother, Annabeth Chase. There were tears- terrible, awful droplets of salty water- in her eyes. She had tears on her cheeks, travelling to her neck.

"Mom?" I said. I ran to her open arms and buried my face in her jumper, smelling the sweet scent of peppermint and strawberries. "What's going on? Where's dad?"

"Right here." His voice was rough, like stone rubble. He had tears in his eyes as well. I tried to make out any other emotion he held on his face, but there was none except for sadness and regret. "Give me a hug, babygirl."

So I did. And I couldn't help but notice the small tug of my mothers hand as she silently begged me not to.

The hug my father gave me was a strong one. I didn't know what to say. It was as if he couldn't bear to let me go.

"What's going on, dad?" I murmured. "Where are you going?"

He said nothing. I didn't say anything after that.

"Alexis," my mothers voice quivered. "Come." I pulled away from my father and watched as he shot a helpless look at my mother, a look that would've broken my heart if I knew what it meant at the time.

"Please listen," he whispered.

Mom didn't say anything. Neither did I, because I was still trying to cling on to the fact that she was upset.

"I'll send you the rest of your stuff tommorow." she said, sternly.

"Ann-"

"And the divorce will the filed next week."

Divorce?

"Annabeth..."

"Goodbye, Percy."

She stared at my dad with cold eyes, the look of pure grief stuck in her grey orbs. He gulped and swallowed the sob that was about to form, but shook his head and picked up his blue suitcase. He knelt down to look me in the eyes.

"Be a good girl, okay? Know that I'll always love you."

He stood up, glanced at me and my mother one last time, then walked out of the door.
Out of our lives.
Out of New York.
Out of everything.


Thanks for reading :)