Hi everyone! So here's the third chappie. I'm not going to apologise for the late update- you guys are getting used to it now, aren't you?
Beside, I'm kind of proud of this chapter. I like the double story telling. This chapter is a lot of the past. It fills in a lot of gaps.
ENJOY CHAPTER NUMERO TRES
November, 2000
Four year old Annabeth was excited for the first time since January that year, when her mother had packed her fancy suitcase and disappeared. It was story time in her preschool class! The whole class fidgeted impatiently as Mrs Merry took forever in pulling up a chair, crossing her legs, opening the book, putting on her reading glasses.
In her posh British accent, Mrs Merry said, "Today's story will be, The Little Mermaid!"
The male half of the class groaned, while the female part of the class squealed with delight. Annabeth was by far the loudest, and she didn't heed the stares from her classmates. She'd always loved this story, ever since she'd watched Disney's adaption of the fairy tale in the days before she could walk. It had been her favourite movie for as long as she could remember. For a while after watching the movie, she'd been set on dying her hair bright red like Ariel's, but thankfully her mother was able to talk her out of it. Instead, for Christmas she received an Ariel dress up costume, complete with a red wig, slip on mermaid tail, and purple brassiere. She wore that costume so often that eventually all the hair fell out of the wig until only the hair net was left, and the elastic in the bra and the tail stretched so much that a person three times her width could have fit into it.
"Once upon a time, on a faraway sea, a grand old ship came rolling through the thick mists. This ship belonged to the handsome Prince Eric, who was out sailing with his butler, Grimsby, all his best sailors, and his hairy pet dog, Max."
Mrs Merry turned the book around to show the class a picture of Prince Eric standing at the bow of his ship.
A couple of the immature boys started doing exaggerated yawns to show their boredom. Some of the girls giggled, and whispered. Most of the class wasn't paying attention. Only little Annabeth was leaning forward in anticipation, her tiny knees bouncing, her hands clenching in excitement.
"It's good weather for sailing today," said one of the sailors. "King Triton must be feeling friendly."
The class burst into laughter as Mrs Merry tried to imitate a man's voice. Annabeth frowned in annoyance, her excitement dissipating into irritation as the class began to lose concentration around her.
Mrs Merry kept reading after a warning glare was shot at the noisy culprits.
"Who is King Triton?" asked Prince Eric.
"He's the ruler of the Merpeople, who live down at the bottom of the ocean," said the sailor.
"Nonsense," said Grimsby. "There are no such thing as Mermen and Mermaids."
Annabeth bristled at this.
"It's true that most grown-ups don't believe in King Triton, and his underwater kingdom. But sailors, handsome princes and children know better…"
Annabeth sat up straight, proud of knowing what was true and what wasn't. Her faith in mermaids could never be broken. Mer was practically her religion.
Mrs Merry kept reading, doing her hilarious impersonations that sounded plain wrong with her pronounced accent.
The other children were restless because it was the last hour of the school day, but Annabeth never broke concentration until the last word was said, and the teacher slammed the book shut just before the bit where Ariel meets Eric on the beach!
Annabeth was disappointed, because she knew that if Mrs Merry didn't finish the book in one lesson, she would forget and start a new one the next day. But she knew that she could always just ask her father to read it as a bed time story.
Later that night, Annabeth asked her dad to tell her a story about mermaids. Actually, more like begged and pleaded and harassed until he reluctantly agreed.
He said it was called "The First Mermaid."
He wove with words a wonderful tale of long blond hair and scaly tails, and golden combs, and sweet sung melodies that lured men to their deaths. And then came the interesting part.
Frederick's story didn't end with colourful rainbows and a kiss to seal forever. No, this story ended with the mermaid's death in a fierce storm, where she was thrown upon the rocks.
"And as her limp body floated on the surface of the frothing water, a strange phenomenon occurred, where the mermaid's body just ceased to exist! Disappeared into thin air. Some might say it melted into the water, some might say it just blinked out like a computer that crashed. But the one part that everyone agrees on is that after the body disappeared, a white foamy substance began to form as the waves crashed over the rocks. Today, it is known as sea foam, but to those that mourned the dead mermaid, they cherished the foam as humans would cherish a loved one's ashes."
"So the mermaid became a pile of foam?" Annabeth interrupted, confused.
"Not just a pile," Frederick corrected. "From then on, every mermaid that died became the foam that froths when the ocean swells and crashes."
"So I swim in dead mermaid?" Annabeth asked, horrified.
Frederick laughed, an affectionate glimmer making his blue eyes shine with mirth. "You could put it that way. Oh, don't look so disgusted, Anna. Think of it as a blessing. Imagine, if you swim enough, you might even grow tail!" Annabeth squealed at the prospect.
So began her fascination bordering on obsession with the sea.
She went to sleep that night dreaming of a kingdom under the sea, thriving with Merfolk and laughter and watery, jovial melodies.
She had never had such a good sleep as she did that night. And she would never again, because in just four mere months, she would meet the boy that changed her life.
November, 2000
Frederick gazed down at his sleeping daughter. She had fallen asleep soon after the story had ended, and he had no doubt she was off frolicking in dreamland with the mermaids and dolphins. He brushed some silky blond hair from her face, and leant down to kiss her forehead. Clutched in her hands, even in sleep, was a worn Yankees Baseball cap.
Annabeth had no idea what that cap meant to their small shattered family, and Frederick hoped she never would.
It had been the first gift he had ever bought for her mother. Their first date had been to a Yankees game, and he'd been smitten ever since. She'd reached into his heart and tugged at all the right strings, completely tangled the web of his brain, so that he would never work right again.
Around twenty years ago
"Wow, Shannon, you look fantastic," 25 year old Frederick Chase gushed, stuttering over his words in his nervousness.
The beautiful, mysterious and smart mouthed Shanahan Cunningham, or Shannon, as she preferred to be called, smiled, her perfect teeth white and pearly. "As do you, Frederick," she returned the compliment in a mischievous purr. It wasn't just out of courtesy; he really was quite good looking, with his messy blond hair and tall, athletic build.
"So, you want popcorn or a hotdog or something?" Frederick asked, trying to reign in his galloping heart.
"A bag of dried apricots and a carton of orange juice will do nicely," Shanahan said smartly. "I'll find us some seats over there," she gestured in the general direction of the least crowded part of the stadium. Frederick resisted the urge to groan, 'The nosebleed section?'
"Okay," he said instead, not really paying attention to what she was saying. He was too focused on her perfect, puckered, red lips.
Shanahan smiled knowingly.
They parted ways, and as Frederick was standing in line to pay for the food, he eyed a merchandise shop thoughtfully.
In the half time break, Shannon and Frederick were really getting into the game, even as she constantly interrupted his rapture to ask about the strategy and rules of the game. He had a feeling that she would understand the game even better than he did by the end of the evening.
And then, amongst the cheers and whistles from the people around them, and the quiet mutters of appreciation from the stunning woman beside him, Frederick remembered. He had no idea how to approach it, so he just opened his mouth and in a messy jumble, the words tumbled out in his own awkward, graceless fashion.
"Shannon, I, uh, I got you, um, something. From the thing. The store." He pulled a grey baseball cap from his jacket pocket. It spelt out 'NY Yankees' in dark purple block letters.
Shannon took the hat and placed it on her head. "I love it, Frederick. Thank you." She smiled hugely at him, and Frederick wanted to kiss her.
That didn't come until he was dropping her home after the game, though.
So began the young adult romance that started out the perfect love story and ended in tragedy and a heart breaking odyssey that has yet to end even twenty years on.
By leaving that cap behind, Shannon was saying that it was truly over. She was never coming back. She had given up on their relationship.
And Frederick had no idea why. That was the question that kept him up for days at a time as he struggled with not only getting up in the morning, keeping his job, looking after his daughter now single-handedly, but with the grief of losing his true love.
Sometimes he didn't give Annabeth enough credit. Sometimes he thought she was completely oblivious to the fact that her mother had just packed up and left them for no reason at all.
She was precocious for a child of mere four years old.
She's definitely her mother's child, Frederick thought. He gazed out the window down the worn path that lead towards the beach, a place he used to love with passion and fervour.
His hope had long since faded.
In the first few months since her departure, he had waited up every night, watching the path, trying not to recall the last memory he had of her: of her tall, slim silhouette retreating down that path into the shadows, blond hair flowing down her back, suit case in one hand, and wad of cash in the other hand.
He remembered coming to the agonising realisation that her decision was final and that he would never see her coming towards him down that path again.
No, the final memory he would go to his grave with was of her back.
Forever her back. It was engraved into his mind.
Out of the corner of his eye, Frederick swore he saw her profile in his daughter's young, sleeping frame.
He glanced away, closed the curtains, and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him, where he sat down at the kitchen table and poured the first drink in a long line of many that night.
August, 2009
Percy only knew something was wrong when he felt the pressure in the water decrease suddenly. It was like he was swimming down into the Deep, and his ears popped as he travelled further away from the surface. His ears popped, and he felt lightheaded. He thought it must be his exposure to air for too long. Well I'll just have to get used to it. Nothing can keep me away from Annabeth now that I know I can break the Skin.
He cradled Annabeth's sleeping, battered form gently in his arms and scrunched up his face against the uncomfortable sensation in his head. It felt like his brain was vibrating, like it was trying escape out through his eye sockets.
No… the vibrating was outside of him. Kind of like the vibrations the Mer felt under the sea when a tidal surge was approaching shore. But different. Percy couldn't place it, but he could sense the direction from which it was coming. He twisted his head and squinted into the distance. Was that a dark shadow far away? He blinked twice, and realised the dot was getting closer. And the vibrations in his head were becoming almost painful now.
Another few seconds, and he could discern what the dot was.
A water tornado, a whole lot of white bubbles, a squad of dolphins, and the royal carriage.
Percy gulped.
It was his father.
And he looked furious.
No, not just 'furious'.
He was furious.
August, 2009
No matter what he said to himself to justify the clenching of his gut, Frederick still wasn't sure. He knocked on the door.
No reply.
He felt like a terrible father for not checking on Annabeth all day. For all he knew, she could be lying on the floor in a pool of her own blood.
"Annabeth?" he asked when he got no response.
Silence.
He opened the door, and his hunch was confirmed.
The room was empty, and there was a white envelope sitting on the bed, looking so innocent.
Frederick almost had a heart attack.
A white envelope.
It couldn't happen again. He couldn't go through this again. His knees had become shaky. He felt light headed as his feet took his reluctant form towards the bed.
The white envelope lay serenely on Annabeth's grey and lilac bed spread, looking so innocent.
As Frederick reached out his hand, he noticed it was trembling. And not just slightly, but it was trembling like he was having a bodily earth quake.
He almost couldn't do it. He almost just turned around and walked out of the room, closed the door, and acted like nothing had happened.
It was almost too painful as he recalled the familiar way her hair fell in graceful golden tresses down her back. The way he used to hold her close and kiss her forehead and tell her favourite bedtime story: The First Mermaid.
But it was these memories that strengthened his resolve to read what Annabeth had to say.
When was the last time he had really listened to her words without hearing the echo of her mother?
When was the last time he had looked at her, at Annabeth, his daughter, without seeing the silhouette of her mother standing in the shadows, a knowing smirk pasted on her lovely, regal face that never seemed to age?
Frederick couldn't stand it any longer. He tore open the envelope and opened the neatly folded letter.
It was hand written, and dated 21st of January this year.
As Frederick scanned the page, he felt a lump rising in his throat, his heart beginning to pound in disbelief.
No. It wasn't possible.
Annabeth couldn't be gone. She was only fourteen.
He read the letter again. It still didn't sink in.
"Frederick!" Susan called from the kitchen. "Annabeth! Hurry up. The boys are getting anxious to go to the beach before the tide comes in."
Frederick's hands were white on the letter. He was trying not to destroy the last thing he had left of his daughter with his death grip.
Blood was roaring in his ears. Annabeth. Gone.
Annabeth had gone into the sea last night. I'll never come back.
There was no such thing as her imaginary friend. The silly girl had gone to her watery grave looking for something that didn't exist.
Frederick was having trouble getting words past the lump in his throat.
"Honey, what's wrong?" Frederick's late wife asked as she walked into the room. Frederick turned around, and Susan frowned. "Frederick, you're practically white. What's up?" Susan glanced around the room and seemed to realise that it was empty except for the two of them. "Where's Annabeth?"
Frederick handed her the note silently, still unable to get words past the lump in his throat. He noticed two pairs of eyes cheeky brown eyes peering around the door.
"Boys," he croaked. "Why don't you go play Legos for a bit? We'll leave for the beach in a few minutes." He was lying just to placate them. He wasn't sure he'd be able to go anywhere near the beach ever again.
Pitter- pattering bare feet echoed down the hallway, and boyish giggles as they played tag or some other silly game that they both enjoyed.
Frederick whirled around, linked his hands behind his back, and stared out the window, his mind racing. It might not be too late. She might still be alive, if they could find her in time.
"Well," Susan said, sounding breathless. She handed the note back to her husband.
"Well?" Frederick demanded. "My daughter disappeared in the middle of the night and left a letter saying goodbye, and the only thing you can say is well?!"
"I wasn't finished, darling," Susan said soothingly, placing a hand on her husband's cheek. "It sounds like Annabeth's just having a bad time. She's fourteen, honey. Every girl that age has emotional meltdowns, and pulls stunts exactly like this just for attention. I'm sure she's hiding somewhere on the beach, chatting to her imaginary friends. Remember, it's not the first time that this has happened."
"We've got to start looking!" he said, his voice breaking. Susan placed her other hand tenderly on his other cheek, so that she was cupping his face.
"Don't worry, Frederick. We'll find her and bring her safely home." She kissed him softly on the lips to seal the deal.
"Ew!" two high pitched voices sung in unison. "You kissed!"
Frederick looked over his wife's shoulder and saw their two sons peaking around the door again. He smiled, and beckoned them over.
The happy family shared a group hug. They all had smiles on their faces.
January, 2000
"Mummy?" four year old Annabeth murmured, tugging on her mother's coat sleeve.
"Annabeth?" Shannon Chase glanced down with a glare that Annabeth shrank back from. "You were supposed to be asleep hours ago, young lady."
Annabeth bit her lip and curled one of her golden tresses around her finger. "Will you tuck me in, mummy? You didn't tuck me in tonight."
Suddenly, her mother's face seemed to age ten years. Her normally emotionless mask dropped like a shed snake skin, and her mouth sagged down, her forehead creased up and she seemed just an ordinary woman. A millisecond passed, and the mask was back in place. Once again, Shannon Chase was intimidating, tall and critical, though she tried to soften her tone for her daughter.
"Annabeth, come this way," Shannon guided her daughter out the front door, to the front porch. They both stared towards the direction of the beach for a moment, lost in memories. The surf was especially loud tonight, and through the trees, Annabeth could see the faintest glinting of the moon's reflection on the rolling water.
A gust of wind blew through the yard, rustling leaves. Annabeth shivered, and pressed closer to her mother. "Where's daddy?" Annabeth asked, scared by the ominous mood in the atmosphere.
Shannon sighed, and knelt down in front of her daughter. Even on her knees, Shannon was taller than Annabeth. "Your father wants to be alone for now. I want to tell you something very important, Annabeth, and I want you to remember this for the rest of your life. Do you promise to remember this for the rest of your life?"
"Yes, mummy," Annabeth whispered, confused and starting to worry. Where was her daddy? She hadn't heard them fighting, so what was wrong?
"Annabeth, look me in the eye and tell me you are listening very intently."
Annabeth did as her mother told. Shannon's face didn't relax.
"Annabeth, I am leaving. I must leave. I cannot tell you why. A long period into the future, I hope you will understand…" Shannon trailed off, and Annabeth's bottom lip was trembling. There was a lump rising in her throat.
"Leave?" she whispered. "But you'll come back tomorrow, right?"
Shannon touched Annabeth's cheek. "My Annabeth. You're a precocious, gifted child with much promise. One day, you will make me proud, I know it."
A single tear slipped down Annabeth's cheek. "I- I don't understand, mummy."
Shannon drew her daughter close and kissed the top of her head. "You will one day. You are my daughter."
"What do you want to tell me, mummy?"
Shannon pulled back a little bit and put her hands on Annabeth's shoulders. "Don't you understand, Annabeth? I just did."
Shannon stood up and dusted herself off. Annabeth didn't want to let go of her mother's hand. Shannon gently separated them.
The tears were cascading freely now. "Mummy, don't go."
Shannon stepped back, her grey eyes bright, her pupils seeming to engulf the pretty colour. Like an owl's: almost… feral. It was dark, late at night, and Annabeth was sleepy. She couldn't be sure if a bag just materialised out of thin air onto the porch beside her mother, or if it had been there the whole time and she simply hadn't noticed it.
"Goodbye, Annabeth," Shannon whispered.
She stepped off the porch, and began walking down the track that led to the beach.
"Mummy!" Annabeth cried, running to keep up with her. She went to touch her mother's arm and found that her skin was burning hot. Scorching. Was her mother sick? Was that why she was leaving?
"Annabeth, go inside. It's not safe out here in the dark."
"But-"
"Wait for a sign from me, Annabeth. You'll know it when it comes to you. You'll know that I'm still with you."
"Mummy—"
"Go."
Annabeth didn't have a choice. When her mother used that tone, it was impossible to resist her command.
Annabeth reluctantly stepped back into the halo of light that surrounded the porch. She kept retreating into the porch until her back hit the wall of the house, and she sank to her knees and cried softly, watching her mother disappear into the dark.
January, 2000
From his top bedroom window, Frederick watched his beloved disappear down the dark path. He tipped his head back and downed another drink.
Somewhere inside him, he knew that nothing could disguise the pain. Not alcohol, or pills, or counselling. Not even Annabeth, the last remnant of their pathetic, almost comical relationship he had left.
But he drowned out that voice with another shot. And another. And another. Until the voice was gone, and only his racing heart could be heard over the pounding in his head.
The sound of her voice, telling him she loves him.
The sound of her voice, instructing him about the letter in the white envelope to give to Annabeth when she came of age.
The sound of her voice, saying goodbye.
August, 2009
"Father," Percy said, his head bowed. He gently laid Annabeth's head on the soft sand, and swam up to speak to his father.
Little water spouts still swirled angrily from the Sea King, shooting off in every direction. Percy was able to redirect most of the ones that whizzed his way.
Most of them.
One got him in the bicep, and through the contact, Percy could feel how furious his father was. He was sure of two things: one; that the water spout was intentionally sent his way, and two; it was going to leave a big bruise on his arm.
"Perseus," Poseidon said. His voice wasn't particularly loud; it was quite soft in fact, compared to that of the other gods'. But it reverberated throughout the water, jolting Percy's bones almost painfully.
Annabeth shifted, and moaned in her unconscious state. Percy winced. Poseidon's face at the mortal girl's small sound was livid. Violent, was the right word for it. Percy had only seen his father so terrifyingly angry whenever the goddess Athena was mentioned, which was extremely rarely. Everyone knew of the age old bloody feud between the two deities, and knew not to ever mention the goddess's name in the Sea Lord's presence lest all hell break loose (maybe even literally). Even the mortals up in the Air, who were so blissfully ignorant of what lay just beyond the Mist, knew of the feud.
"You have disobeyed the one rule Mer across the entire globe cherish. Do you realise what you have done, Perseus?"
Percy stayed silent, cringing. He had no idea what this meant. He hoped it wasn't too bad.
"You, my son, as the Prince of the Sea, have set a terrible example for the Mer. Mer will begin to think that it is acceptable to break the rule. It was placed there for a very good reason, Percy."
Poseidon's water spouts lost power until they fizzled into bubbles. The Sea King was very old. He was thousands of years old, and yet he still looked thirty— the perks of being an immortal deity. But he looked very old as he swam down to float at eye level with his son.
He placed his hands on Percy's shoulders and sighed. His voice was tired when he said, "Percy, do you know why the Mer were banned from visiting the human world in the first place?"
Woah. That was a pretty intense and emotional chapter. Did anyone else cry when Annabeth's mother left?
So I've got the whole plan mapped out from here. Updates should be coming in faster.
I'm really getting into this story. Who else is? I'm excited for the next chapter! Bring it on :)
Until next time,
MashPotatoeSquishBanana