Unrequited

Annabeth didn't understand love especially when it was unrequited. It made sense, to be honest. The first ten years of her life were spent watching her mother be unsatisfied as her father loved every single flaw and imperfection that her mother had. Then her mother left them, and even at the age of ten, Annabeth knew that if love were as powerful as they all said, she would have stayed with Annabeth or, better yet, taken Annabeth with her. It became even more apparent that love wasn't all it seemed when Annabeth's father got remarried only a year later. This mentality stuck with Annabeth even three years short of a decade later.
It was a Friday night and Annabeth was studying in her room like she always did when her step-mother came in.
"Come on Annabeth, get up and do something. Hang out with your friends, get in trouble, kiss a boy, I don't know just don't sit here studying all night."
Susan was a nice woman, Annabeth supposed, but she didn't quite understand Annabeth's anti-social nature.
"I'm fine, but thanks for asking," Annabeth told her, still browsing her history notes.
"Okay then," Susan said, sounding slightly miffed, "I actually came up here to tell you that the twins have a baseball party and your father and I might be out late. You'll have to fend for yourself tonight. There are some leftovers in the fridge, so you should be set. Also, if you do decide to actually do something for once, leave a note in case we get home before you do."
"Sounds good," Annabeth said dismissively, "Give the boys and dad my love."
Then she closed the door in Susan's face.

A few hours later, Annabeth was in the shower singing to herself. Although she didn't seem like the type, Annabeth always sang when preforming monotonous tasks. When she heard a clanging below her, she stopped. She checked her watch which was lying on the bathroom counter; it was only eight o'clock, her family couldn't possibly be home yet.
Slowly, Annabeth turned the shower off and wrapped a towel around herself. She opened the door slowly and peeked out into the hallway. There was nobody there. She quietly crept down the hall, holding her towel to her body, her hair dripping the whole way. She heard voices downstairs. She couldn't hear what they were saying, but they were certainly saying something. Annabeth paused, remembering Bobby, her little brother, had a Celtic knife that he kept in his room. She sprinted down the way and grabbed it from his dresser. Although the blade was pretty dull, it was better than nothing.
Then she started down the stairs. The voices became clearer and the sounds of rummaging and shifting furniture became louder. She paused to listen.
"Nothin' over here Nic, just a bunch of silverware. Wait, no, there is a vase that looks pretty expensive," the deep voiced man speaking could be faintly heard up the stairs where Annabeth was standing. She knew what vase they were talking about. Susan had got it on sale at cost plus.
"Sounds interesting let me see," she heard another voice, presumably Nic, say.
She heard the vase get slammed to the floor.
"This piece of crap is barley even worth as much as this t-shirt Tyson!" Nic yelled.
"I-I'm sorry Nico," said the other man, Tyson, his voice hurt, "I d-didn't know."
"Don't worry big man; Nico is just a little irritable," another voice said, "Mr. Jackson said this was an important client and that we need to please her."
"Okay Grover," Tyson said, sniffling. Annabeth almost felt bad for him until she realized he was trying to rob her house. She rushed down the stairs and into the kitchen, holding the knife in proper stance. Annabeth wasn't a coward or unprepared to fight. She'd been taught by her mother how to protect herself years ago and could outsmart nearly any man or woman. Although she was slightly rusty, Annabeth knew how to use a knife and wasn't afraid of hurting a few people in the process.
The men looked shock to say the least. Girls with knives wearing nothing but a towel aren't exactly an ever day occurrence.
"Who in Tartarus are you?" said one with shaggy black hair and an aviator jacket.
"I could say the same thing to you. This is my house!" Annabeth shouted at him.
"Grover, you said this place was empty!" aviator guy said to the skinny red haired man to his left.
"I thought it was, Nico," Grover responded, looking scared.
"Well, you were clearly wrong!" Nico shouted. It seemed as though yelling was something the black haired man did often.
"Hey! Listen here!" Annabeth yelled at the men, commanding their attention, "I don't know who you three are, but if you don't get the hell out of my house right now, I swear, I will kill each and every one of you." She held up the knife higher to prove her point.
"Sure you will," Nico said rolling his eyes, "Tell me, girl, what's your name?"
"Don't call me girl. You can't be much older than I am."
"Well, how am I supposed to know what to call you if you don't tell me your name?" He responded with a smirk.
She sighed, "I'm Annabeth."
"What a nice name. Pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am Nico and these to dog brains are Grover and Tyson," he replied jokingly.
"Oh the pleasure's all mine. Now, will you would please proceed out the door," she replied bringing the knife near his throat.
"But Annabeth, we were only just getting to know each other," he said with a malicious glint in his eyes.
Annabeth would have said something snarky to retort, but Tyson, the nearly seven foot broad shouldered man to Nico's right, interrupted their little exchange by pointing to her collar bone saying, "What's that?"
Annabeth's eyes traveled downward where her gaze fell on the shining diamond that was her mother's wedding band. When Annabeth was thirteen, she had found it while searching through her mother's old belongings and had worn it on a chain around her neck ever since.
"It's a wedding ring," she told them.
"Really?" Nico said in disbelief, "How old are you, seventeen? Isn't that a little too young to be getting married?"
"It isn't mine," she replied hastily, "It belonged to my mom."
"Is that so..." Nico, said, reaching to touch it.
"Don't touch me," Annabeth reprimanded, slapping his hand away. That was a huge mistake.
In the process of slapping Nico's hand, Annabeth had let go of her towel which, in turn, caused it to fall to the ground.
Tyson looked away ashamed, Grover's face turned cherry red, and Nico, well he just laughed and grabbed the chain off Annabeth's neck while she was distracted.
"Hey, give that back," Annabeth shouted, lunging at him angrily, not even bothering with her towel and left her knife on the floor.
"Sorry Annie but this is mine now," he said laughing at her frustrated state, "Boys, use the rope to tie her hands and put her in one of those robes from the closet. I think the boss might be interested in this one."
Then, taking her dad's signed wooden baseball bat, he hit her over the head, and the world faded and turned to black.

Hey everyone. So, I posted a story, shocker right. I should probably start by saying sorry for taking that unannounced hiatus. Not to mention how long it's been. However, I'm back and I'll probably be posting a lot more often. I'll definitely being taking a poke at this story once a week. To explain, I have been writing my own personal novel recently, but have hit a bit of writer's block, so I started working with this plot bunny I had a while ago. Also, to any of my subscribers, I will be posting an onslaught of one-shots at some point, so beware. That is about it, sooooo….

Thx 4 Reading

-Vans