Author Note: Sorry for the long wait of a new post. Here is one, and I rather like this one. Please review, because it makes me
It was time to run away.
I ran to my closet and brought out my pink duffle bag. I hate the color pink, but it was a present from my father when I was five when I loved the color pink. The letter "A" for Annabeth was stitched in cursive with sequins lining around it. It would have to do. I began piling clothes into my bag; thinking critically on what I would need while surviving on my own.
Running away from home had been a thought for the past year. It was a thought that a lot of kids had when angry with their parents, but it would fuse over and everything would be fine. Things didn't work that way for me. It never just fused over. It might get mild for a moment, but the very next it would another scream fest with my stepmother. My dad didn't really take sides with anybody, so he said, but he took sides with his new wife anyways. I wasn't important to him and I wasn't wanted. I got that picture pretty quick when I was young. For the past six months, it became more as a plan. I began collecting batteries, flashlights, knifes, cans of food here and there. I'd dig through the couch for spare change and take some of the leftovers of my lunch money and save it, instead of giving it to my dad. I stored it into the back of my closet, where nobody ever looked or cared to look, that is. It was now time to go.
The argument this time had been pretty bad. A few monsters that I didn't even know the names to came to our house a few days ago, and attacked me. They didn't want anything to do with them, really, but of course my step mom found ways to turn it so that the monsters were after them. The fight continued to go on, and she kept adding more fuel to the fire by yelling at me even more about other things. How much of a freak I was, how "lazy" I was (untrue), how I never played or pay attention to Bobby and Matthew (how can I when I'm too much of a freak to go near them?), how that I should be getting better grades (I get straight A's), how that I should get my nose out of a book and get some friends (but when I get some friends I should be reading a book) and a lot more. It got so frustrating that I was fed up with my stupid stepmother and this life. I was especially fed up with my father, who didn't stick up for me. That was the worst of it all.
Dragging out of my backpack of supplies, I slung that over my shoulder along with my duffle bag and headed quietly out of my bedroom. It was about midnight and everyone was sleeping, thankfully. I headed downstairs and into the kitchen. I added a few more odds and ends to my back of supplies, as well as tacking a wad of bills from the cash jar that was meant for grocery shopping. Tough luck. That was little what they owed me for all my suffering. I took a pad of paper and a pen, and began writing a note. It took a long time, especially with my dyslexia and the fact to form words to say what I wanted to say, but I finally did it.
Dear The Chase Family,
I think my time has been spent here enough. Don't worry, even though I don't think you will, but if you might, I'll be okay. Athena will guide me to somewhere safe to stay. With me gone, you don't have to worry about anything coming to attack you, and you can be the perfect family you always desired to be.
Oh, and don't report the police about me leaving. It would stink to have to run from cops, but I think I can handle them.
-Annabeth
I left the note on the kitchen table, where they would find it in the morning, and slipped out the back door into the night.
