I stood in the doorway as Anthony grasped my arm.

"Abbie? We have to go" Anthony muttered sadly. I yanked my arm from his grasp and walked down the hall. In the third picture frame was a picture of my mom and I at the state fair. It was when I was seven, so I was wearing a pink bandana around my head, in place of my hair. My mom looked the same, she had shaved her head, just for me. We were standing at the ticket booth, my mother was smiling her big picture smile. My smile was small, and I wasn't even showing my teeth. My right hand was tightly grasped in my mothers. In the crook of my left arm was Toby, my old stuffed bunny. In the picture he was white and his tail wasn't smushed. We didn't know Anthony back then so a stranger must've took the picture. With shaky hands I grabbed the frame and took it down. I wasn't sure I trusted myself with something breakable, considering I couldn't control my nerves. With my fingers twitching I un-did the small clasps on the back of the frame. In the left bottom corner was a smaller copy. I took that and carefully placed it in my jacket pocket.

"Just let me change real quick" I muttered. Anthony closed the front door and walked to the kitchen. I put the frame back on the wall and continued walking. I stopped in front of my door. I hadn't been here in weeks. I felt out of place, like an intruder, that I should knock before entering. I placed my hand on the brass door handle. Things that I had been trying to forget came flooding back to me. Those bright on coming headlights, that cruel face of the man who jumped out of the other car, the blinding flash of light that was at least a mile away from the wreckage, and lastly the image of my moms crushed and mangled body being loaded into the second ambulance. I ripped my hand of the door and stepped back. I was hyperventilating, my breaths were labored and my heart pounded on my rib cage. I shook my shoulders and quickly opened the door. My room looked the same, but felt different. I had changed over the last month. I still had the scar over my left eyebrow, the doctor said it was possible that the scar would never go away, my right ankle was still bandaged. The doctor told me to use my crutches. I hadn't touched them since I left rehab. I continued walking with a slight limp, something I had gotten used to. My bed was still under the window, but all of my posters were in a pile by the pillows. My desk was to the left of the door. Littered with crumpled up soda cans and granola bar wrappers.

"Abigail?" Anthony said. His voice made me jump. I turned to look at him. His black hair was in small tuffs sticking up in all directions. His normally warm and bright Hazel eyes were dim. The bags under his eyes were a deep purple, he hadn't sleep in at least a week.

"Yes?" I said with a small voice.

"Just get ready, please"

"Ok" I gulped. He turned and walked back to the kitchen, shutting my door behind him. I grabbed the black dress from the closet and quickly changed. When I was finished I turned in all directions trying to find my shoes. I found them in the box sitting under my bed. I looked in the mirror on the back of my door. The dress straps came up my shoulders and around my neck like some bathing suits do. It was knee length with material that felt like mosquito net at the bottom. It was a really pretty dress, but I hated wearing it. My shoes were black plaid flats.

"Abbie?" Anthony called.

"I just gotta brush my hair" I replied. I grabbed my hair brush and put a blue bobby pin on the edge of my dress. My hair was naturally black, but I died all the hair two inches below the top of my head a red-ish brown color. In my black bangs I put a red streak on one side. My mom thought that my hair was a way of expressing myself. My grandma thought I was rebelling against my mother, but I wasn't. I just wanted to change something about my life. When I finished brushing my hair I put the bobby pin on the opposite side of the streak. I shook out my shoulders and opened my bedroom door. Anthony was there, about to knock probably. He wore a simple all black tux.

"You look-" he started to say.

"Not formal enough?" I offered. He shook his head.

"Perfect, this is the Abbie your mom knew, this is how she would want you to stay" he said with a sad smile. I nodded and grabbed my jacket from the back of my desk chair. Together we walked to his small Toyota. I sat in the passenger seat, fiddling with the dead white lily. Most people would be uncomfortable sitting in car after they just got home from the hospital, because of a car accident. But I wasn't most people, I didn't even hesitate to get in the car, which concerned Anthony. We arrived at the church before a lot of people, but I saw my aunts and my grandparents cars. As soon as he parked I got and started speed walking to the open church door.

"Abigail" a familiar female voice called. I stopped and waited. I heard the clop of my grandma's high-heels coming towards me.

"Yes grandma?" I asked turning to my right. She stopped on front of me. She was wearing a loose black dress with a veil covering her eyes. She gulped.

"I'm…sorry" she sounded like she would cry. I nodded and let her slip her arm around my shoulders. Together we walked into the empty church. My grandma walked to the casket, tears streaming down her cheeks. I slipped out of her grip and sat in the last row. Throughout the next half-hour my family showed up and went to visit the casket. Everyone had sat down, filling up the first five rows. Only when the priest had arrived and stood behind the podium did I get up to pay my respects.

"Miss?" the priest asked. I didn't answer him. I just kept walking. Past the fifth row, my cousin bumped my arm. The fourth my Aunt Judy frowned at me. Third and second, many sympathetic looks. First, my grandma almost stood. I waved her off. I had been looking at the casket the whole time, now I was afraid to see inside. I held the dead lily in both my hands, which I pressed against my stomach. The priest looked annoyed. I didn't give a crap anymore. I had reached the steps.

"Charlotte!" my grandpa wailed into my grandma's shoulder. I closed my eyes and felt the edge of the casket on my thighs.

"Miss, please sit down" the priest demanded.

"Gary" Anthony warned. He most know the priest. I opened my eyes, tears still not falling. She was peaceful, pale, but peaceful. No cuts, or bandages anywhere. But I didn't like how I could tell her lips were sewn shut, or and her were shut tightly, like she was trying to fall asleep, yeah, I wish. Her face was caked with makeup, she looked to pale. To put it simply, she didn't look like my mom anymore, she just looked dead.

"Why is the flower dead Miss?" the priest asked me. For the first time I looked up at him.

"Because she is" I whispered, shaking more than I did at the house. Apparently giving a dead person a dead flower was weird. What did it matter?

"Miss-" the priest started to say. Someone behind him seemed to give him a sign to shut the hell up. I looked back at her peaceful face.

"Hi mommy" I said softly to the peaceful woman in the coffin. I didn't feel right again. Like I was in the wrong place. My mother was lying dead in a coffin and I felt like I should be in one next to her. Maybe it was a miracle, maybe god had spared me. I didn't want a second chance though. I didn't have anything to live for now. I had survived leukemia, I had been fatherless all my life, now I was an orphan, forced to live with Anthony, my step-father. I broke down now. I collapsed right there, in front of everyone. I sobbed into the side of the coffin, quietly saying 'mommy' to myself every few minutes.

Anthony or my grandma, must've pulled me to the front row because I felt myself moving, then wood under me. The priest cleared his throat, then began the service. I curled into a ball on the bench. I immediately hated the priest. He talked like he knew my mother. He didn't even know I was her daughter, and he had the nerve to say that she was a good woman, and mother. How on earth would he know? I mean she was, my mom was the best. Barely complained, hardly ever yelled. But I knew I wasn't an easy kid. Diagnosed with Leukemia at age four, then of course my ADHD. Sometimes she just had this look in her eyes that said: Shut up Abigail!

"If anyone would like to come up and speak some kind words about Charlotte, I'll leave the podium open" he stepped down and sat in a chair off to the side. I had decided right then and there, I would be last again. My Aunt May stood. She was the only on my dads side that cared about my mother. The speeches droned on and on. Every speech made me cry harder. Finally my grandma stood. She was the second to last. As her speech was coming to an end I looked to Anthony. He shook his head and I let out a sigh of relief I didn't know I had been holding. I didn't have to read my speech. The priest stood up again and started talking about the stupid circle of life. I jumped up and ran outside. Aunt May followed.

"Abbie" she called once we were outside. She smushed me into a hug and I sobbed into her shoulder. I pulled away from her and started yelling at the sky.

"Why?" I screamed as I sunk lower to the ground. "Why? Why? Why?" I bowed my head down and placed my hands flat on the pavement. I felt Aunt May's hand on my back, but it wasn't helpful or reassuring, it was just annoying.

OLYMPUS

Ares strode into the thrown room.

"What is it, Ares?" Zeus asked with a sigh.

"She saw me" Ares said crossing his arms as he came to a stop.

"And?"

"What do you want me to do?"

"What's her name" Zeus said clearly amused.

"Abigail. Abigail Chase" Ares shifted his weight to the right.

"Kill her" Zeus said with a frown.