A/n: hey! For some reason I felt the need to put an author's note here…. So yeah! School just started, which is annoying in and of itself without the masses of math homework…. Anyway: on to the story! Please please review! I own nothing, blah blah blah…. Oh, by the way happy 2012 (Mark Of Athena!) ;D Now the story…. Enjoy!
The grey clouds painted the Virginia sky a dull colour and began to let their cold heavy raindrops fall toward earth.
Annabeth stood outside staring up at the clouds, letting the rain slip down the sides of her face like tears. The cold didn't bother her, it was almost better than the warmth of the house. Because the rain wouldn't reject her, or blame her. She took a step off of the porch and put her bare feet in the wet grass. It was just plain rain, no thunder or lightning nothing scary or spectacular. Her stepmother would be mad that she was wet, but it didn't matter. And her father would still be embarrassed or angry about the monster from the previous week. Whatever the emotion was that made him look at her accusingly, like the problems of the world were her fault, caused by the flecks of golden ichor coursing through her veins. She brushed a water-drop from her eyelashes. The rain poured down even harder, plastering her blonde curls to her face.
"Annabeth Chase!" She turned to see her father standing in the doorway, giving her that look. "Get inside! You're going to get sick!"
"I am not going to get sick." she muttered, but came toward the door.
"Go dry yourself off, and try not to get the floor wet." He went off toward his study.
The little, wet girl trudged up the stairs as quietly as she could, as to not attract attention from her step mother.
She sat on the edge of her bed, wrapped in a blanket staring at the floor tracing whorls in the rug with her toes.
Her mind was chasing stray thoughts, designing, making things better. The rain tapped on the window sill like impatient fingers, wanting a decision.
But one thought insisted on returning. It was the dragon. The dragon kept returning, it was small but it had fiery breath and had nearly demolished the house, and had probably totalled the car. With the dragon came her stepmother scooping her mortal toddler off the ground and shaking her head at Annabeth as if she had summoned the creature so she had to send if away. With the dragon came her fathers voice muttering
'Why couldn't your mother have kept you and raised you on Olympus.'
'Daddy?'
'Go to your room Annabeth.' And then he turns, turns away.
He didn't want me. Didn't. Doesn't. Won't.
She walked to the window, and pressed her hand to the foggy glass. The pane was cold against her skin.
She heard someone calling from downstairs, but didn't turn. She rubbed the glass clear, and stared out into the neighbourhood.
"Annabeth! Its time for dinner, didn't you hear me?" it was her step mother. She was actually surprise that the woman had bothered to make the trip up the stairs for her.
"No, I didn't," she replied absently. "I'm coming."
Annabeth's dad flipped off her light and pulled her door shut. "Goodnight, Annabeth."
She lay still, listening to her stepmother tuck in her precious child after reading him a bedtime story. Something Annabeth had never been privileged enough to attain. Then the light in the hall went out and the door to her fathers room clicked shut.
She lay still in the dark and waited, after a careful count to thirty, she stood in the darkness and went to the door. Her fingers closed around the knob and she pulled it open. With bare feet she crept down the stairs and through the dark house.
The closet door creaked when she pulled it open, she looked up at the second shelf, just out of her reach, on it lay a hammer and some screwdrivers farther back. Annabeth balanced on her tip-toes, her finger tips brushed the handle of the hammer. She pulled it forward and almost had it, when it fell from the shelf and crashed to the floor. She winced and froze. She bent down and picked the hammer up from the floor, and carefully guided the closet door closed. she headed back toward the living room.
Then she heard it. Footsteps upstairs and her father's voice. She panicked and stuffed the tool into her stepmothers flower vase. She started up the stairs hoping that when he saw her he wouldn't go all the way down.
Fredrick swung his flashlight as he started down the stairs and the beam fell on Annabeth.
"Annabeth! For gods sakes what are you doing up!"
"Getting a drink of water," She said quickly, please buy it she prayed silently.
"Go to bed! And do not get up in the middle of the night ever again."
She nodded and continued up the stairs, he turned and went back across the hall, sighing in exasperation. She stood inside her door waiting, cursing herself for being so clumsy. She waited for what seemed like an eternity in the dark.
Annabeth took a deep breath and slipped back into the hall. This time she wasn't coming back. Scarcely breathing, she descended the stairs and pulled the hammer from the vase. She twisted the locks on the door and walked outside into the dark and damp night.
She made her way down the walk and stopped at the street to look back. She looked at the dark windows, You don't want me, now you can't have me.
Then looked up at the mist shrouded light of the full moon and whispered a prayer, mom, please give me friends. Someone to stand by me.
Then she turned and walked alone down the street.
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