Wassup! Thank you all who followed and reviewed, right after I posted this! You guys are amazing.
I don't own anything but my OC.
Enjoy!
So, I guess I should begin by saying who I am. Elizabeth. Elizabeth Angler. And no, you cannot call my Liz, or Lizzie, or Beth, and despite what the Stolls say, I do not like Lizard.
Just Elizabeth, my family calls me Beth. But that's mainly 'cause my families stupid and stubborn. Plus they raised me. So, I guess I owe it to them.
That's another thing about me, and very important to me. Yeah, I know, it sounds like the whole, "Family is the most important thing in the universe, blah-blah-blah."
Thing, but It's true, I suppose.
My "family" contains my dad, my brother Jay, and me. That and grandparents, who live in Britain and a few relatives here and there. Heck, sometimes we even see my brother's mom's family.
See there, I said my brother's. Not, my mom. See, my dad had a kid at eighteen, with a seventeen year old women. You know the story, both worked in a not-so-legal-mechanic store, attraction came and hormones took over.
Then, Jay popped out.
Five years later, when the two had gotten other jobs and where married and even taking night classes to finish college, Dad's wife-Jennifer-died in a car crash. Kinda the reason behind why we don't have a car. Well, at least dad's excuse to being too poor for one.
The sad thing is that is wasn't long before then that they had just gotten in on a waiting list for adopting a little girl. Yup, you guessed it, me.
My dad-Jack Angler-thought that it would be good to go along with it. To honor his late wife's wish. It was Jennifer's idea; she wanted a girl but couldn't have any more children, no matter how much they tried. Plus, despite where they met and all, she was a down to earth good person.
Or at least I hear.
So, when two years later the adoption agency said they finally had someone matching their description, he took her. Me, really.
I was four years old; I don't know anything besides my birthday date, and that ancestor-talking I'm from Greece, but could have been born anywhere, really. That's the only thing the orphanage knows and told me. I always knew I was adopted, but it didn't bother me, mostly. I loved my family, despite their flaws. My dad working bad jobs with bad people to scrape together some rent money, whilst flirting with every moving female, my older brother being a horrible role model and getting expelled to many times to be good, and me being forced to wear hand me downs and go to public schools without a lunch my whole life.
But, of course, everything has to end. Especially the good things.
When I was thirteen, dad had gotten arrested being caught stealing for his boss. I was forced to stay in our cramped apartment alone with my brother.
Of course, we fought. I left, and when I get angry, I go for a walk. I practically have been everywhere in Manhattan.
I remember getting very lost and sneaking on buses, and eventually having to hitchhike in Long Island.
Long story short, I ended up in Camp Half Blood.
But worse went to great when I actually made friends, something I've never truly did. And, at the beginning of the year, I made a boyfriend out of one of my closest friends, Leo Valdez.
Now, being fifteen, I've gotten use to not being claimed. I'm practically a Hermes camper, honestly.
Oh, but remember when I said everything has to end? Mainly good things? Yeah, that happened again.
Thank you ArtemisApollo97 for reviewing! Means a lot to me, I take all the constructive criticism I can get.
