DISCLAIMER: I am not Rick Riordan and do not own any PJO characters.

Annabeth looked at her boyfriend and sighed. He was asleep on the couch, his brown hair in a mess. He had a beer on the table next to him. She rubbed her belly and felt a kick, then smiled. Maybe the baby would tear him away from his drinking. She could only hope.

"Jack," Annabeth said while shaking his shoulder.

"WHATTTTT?!" Jack screamed. The bottle fell from his hand. It collided with Annabeth's ankle. Now it was her turn to scream.

Annabeth looked down and saw blood. A lot of it. She could see at least six glass shards sticking out of her foot and cried silently. Annabeth sat down and took out her phone.

"Get out," she told Jack. "And don't come back. You're obviously not 'cut out' enough to be a father."

Jack surprisingly looked surprised. He took his lighter out of his pocket (he didn't smoke, he just carried a lighter), lit it, and threw it on the rug that the couch Annabeth was sitting on was on. Then, Jack left without another word. He just walked right out the door. Annabeth dialed 9-1-1 and waited.

"9-1-1, what's your emergency?" asked a woman.

"I'm at Rosebrook Apartments. My boyfriend just dropped a bottle on me and set the place on fire. Apartment 4A. Please hurry!" Then, I hung up the phone. Jack was long gone. He'd be driving away by now. My foot hurt terribly. It was almost covered in blood, but I could still see the pieces of glass sticking out.

The front of the couch was facing the rug, so I climbed off the back. That hurt. A lot. I screamed and fell of the back of the couch. "HELP! I could start to hear the sirens wailing. I sobbed and tried to climb farther away from the fire. No use, my foot wouldn't budge. It was broken in more than one place and was bleeding like crazy. I never knew a foot could bleed that much. The sirens got closer, and my vision went blurry as I tried to drag myself farther from the couch, which the fire had engulfed. It became hard to breathe and I knew that it's not fire that kills, it's smoke. "PLEASE HELP ME!" were my last weak words before everything around me went black.

Short chapter, I know. usually my first chapters are the shortest because I try to get the point across. REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW! CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM works too! I want at least 2 reviews before chapter two please! Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed!

-Lindsay