Orphan Love
Okay so this idea came from GirlOnFire2012 who is an amazing writer. But I wanted my twist on things and a few changes… so taadaa!
Annabeth is a mute, like in her great story, but this a different. Trust me. I don't own these characters; they are property of Rick Riordan.
(update 6/3/14: I am revising and thinking about how to end this story. This is the updated version)
(Update: 7/4/15: my computer is working and I'm fixing the story)
Annabeth's Pov-
"Dad are you sure you want to go?"
"Annabeth, if you want to go, I want to go. Besides, this is the 17th 100% in a row on your spelling test."
"Okay. Let's go." Me and dad were heading to Olive Garden to celebrate as a result of the new Greek restaurant not opening yet. I ordered my normal as Jennifer, our usual waitress brought us the food. I ate in silence with dad, but it was a healthy silence.
We made it home, before Helen I guess, because the house was silent. Dad unlocked the door and I ran upstairs for a much needed change of clothes. I was still in my school clothes, but as I pulled my shirt over my head I heard a bang. A loud bang…like a gun? I recognized the sound from action movies I was rarely allowed to watch.
I ran downstairs, more shots shaking my mid, and saw a nightmare await me in the kitchen.
Matthew and Bobby were covered in blood, most of it coming from their head. Helen was covered in even more blood, with two holes in her head. And as I slowly saw my father sprawled at the feet of him.
He was wearing all black, with a mask, and he lunged at me. I was knocked to the ground and I screamed instantly, only for my mouth to be covered. He looked into my eyes and I looked away, not wanting to know who killed my family and I. But I fought as hard as I could when he pulled my skirt down. I kicked him hard after realizing his intention and ran, where he came in, and effectively blocked the kitchen from view. I opened the front door and ran to the neighbor's home by their pathway. I tried to remember the last time I saw because they might not be home, was it four? six? I pounded on the door while my long shirt covered most of my legs. He didn't answer and before I could run to the next house, my killer had reached me. And then… well I can't remember what happened after that.
My shrink says I can't talk or remember the rest of the day because I have trauma and my mind blocked it out, like a black out. But the only thing I wanted to know about the rest of that day I will know in a few minutes. My child supporter, or councilor as most call her, is taking me to the hospital where I will find out if I was raped or not. I want to believe no, I truly do. But when the police told me my other neighbor came into the kitchen with the man over me and my skirt pulled down…
I walk through the halls and up stairs with Courtney and she leads me into a room immediately. And as soon as I sit the doctor walked in with a large stack of papers, after a month of staying in the care of a 'temporary home' that feels nothing like home.
"I have great news Annabeth, honey."
"What is it?" Courtney asks, actually looking like she cares.
"You were never... harmed fully. We call it molestation, because he touched you inappropriately and had bad intentions to go further. Your neighbor saved you just in time. When you grow up you can make the decision to be with someone by yourself, you're still a virgin for all manners." Tears of joy flood into my eyes as I realize I am still innocent. I was informed recently about sex, what it means, and what rape is by the police officers.
But even this wonderful news can't cloud my vision; I know what comes next. I am being shipped to the orphanage a town over, since they needed to know this for court purposes. They caught the man, my neighbor pulled the mask off and later identified him, I am told afterwards.
Driving over a town is boring and bumpy, and leaves me with far too much to think about and remember. I consider what I have been told, seen, and thought too much about. I've been pulled out of school, despite the masses saying I need to experience 'normality despite the tragedy' even though not seeing my friends makes it worst. I miss my teachers, my friends, and my home. I can't even go back to home because they have declared the crime scene, and since then haven't been there due to 'trauma sustained at the location.' I would rather have packed my room myself, not received my most treasured possessions by a stranger. And they packed the belongings of my parents into bags with reckless abandon for me to receive after a year of approved therapy after I am in my new school. I don't see how therapy helps when professionals are questioning me, observing, and using complicated terms for my 'trauma.'
They get frustrate I don't talk anymore; they write that on their notebooks. I didn't cry as much as they thought I would at the funeral of my family; they write that down on their notebooks. I go to see police officers or court assigned people without care; they write even more down. Sorry I know that it is my fault my family was killed, what do you want me to do?
After far too long and too much thinking, the car stops.
"Annabeth, I know you are a strong girl. You will be fine, and maybe I will be able to visit you one day, you are one of the strongest people I have seen," whispers Courtney. Her hair is out of place and her constant touching of face while talking tells me she is lying. Just from what I've read before, although some psychology does seem like bullshit now.
I nod to let her know I was paying attention. And she opens doors to my new life.
The orphanage is very large, 4 stories. However, few kids were here at the moment; 10 or 15. I am dropped off with my 5 bags and the head person- I'm not sure what I should call him- Chiron, he says when we are introduced, shows me to my room on the 3rd floor. I set my bags on the ground, as does Courtney, and look around. It is a very clean and neat place, however, I will never be comfortable here. This isn't home. It's a prison.
"Dinner is in 2 hours honey." I nod at him, he must know I can't talk. He probably knows far too much about me and will extend the same 'sympathy' as he other government workers.
He leaves the room silently and I unpack slowly. But I leave two bags unpacked- the ones filled with memories of my family and a life I would give anything to go back to. I push them under the twin sized bed, I can reminisce later I suppose.
The hours passed in my new room and I walk down the stairs to the kitchen, where enchiladas were being handed out. There were two kids that came to me immediately- both with black hair and dark clothes. They introduced themselves as Nico and Thalia. They showed me around to Jason, Piper, Silena, Charles, Clarisse, Matthew, Malcolm, Grover, Michael Yew, and the Stoll brothers. I winced at them being reminded of Matthew and Bobby.
The blood on their heads flashed where the Stoll's faces were. I flinched at the memory and continued to listen to them greet me.
They all hello, receiving a nod from me. Thalia and Nico seemed to be okay with me not talking.
"Are you mute?" Malcolm asks while blushing.
I look down at my feet while I nod a little.
"Oh, that's…cool. Welcome."
I eat slowly and head back to my room afterwards. I am the first to live on the third floor and I am lonely, the only one on the floor. I step into the shower and the memories flood back to me, bring tears to streak across my face with red eyes. As I get out I still cry and lay down in pajamas with tears over my pillow.
I wake up to a knocking and glance at my clock 8:12 at least I get to sleep in everyday, opposed to waking at 6:30 just because. I dressed and did my morning routine in a hurry. I headed downstairs to hear talk of a new boy. He is arriving soon. At least I'm not the only new one here. I sit and pour myself cereal awaiting the new boy, maybe he will be quiet like me. Hopefully he doesn't tease me about not talking, like some of them do. Forget it, he can talk. And he will tease me too.
(update: 7/4/15 I actually researched trauma children and behaviors a bit and added needed thoughts for Annabeth. Get ready)
This is probably a bad chapter, especially for a first chapter, but it is a history chapter as I call it. It is of relevance to the story but only for Annabeth's past. I would rather make it a small chapter then just telling you guys oh hey this is what happened. Okay, review! Gracias
~EmmiG
