Author's Note

Thank user ElmoDaHorse for awakening me from my slumber! I've actually wanted to get back to writing recently, and due to finally getting back on the writing horse, I'm back. I really owe you lovely people who have been waiting for this to get updated so I'm skipping year 4 and going straight to year 6.

Thanks so much for reading this story, and as I try to get better at writing I will try to update this story! Please review and tell me what you think.

Year 6

"Annabeth, take this money and go buy one ice cream for daddy and one ice cream for you." Lounging on a park bench, a middle-aged man in thick-rimmed glasses handed a handful of bills to his young daughter. She grinned broadly and left to wait her turn at the ice cream cart. Shuffling forward slowly in line, she marveled at the generous helping of crisp, green notes her father had given her.

Her father had fallen on hard times and treats were hard to come by. Her tattered sneakers were a size too small, and her shirt had been salvaged from Goodwill. But once she brought back a large tangerine-flavored popsicle for her father and a waffle cone overflowing with creamy ice cream for herself, she felt like the richest girl in the world. She savored every lick of her dessert, treasuring every last drop; and she made sure to scarf down the crunchy cone as well.

Annabeth chanced a glance at her dad and was not disheartened. His gaze took in the lovely autumn-colored scenery of early fall Central Park with a benevolence Annabeth had never before seen in her father.

Her father was happy. She was glowing.

Her father had not been happy for most of his life, even as a small girl she knew his drastic mood swings and his disproportionate anger towards the exceptionally quiet six year old was not normal. But over the course of several months her father became a kinder, gentler man. He would raise his voice less and less often until his violent yelling ceased. He would hit her with less force and frequency until his disciplinary actions were reduced to small flicks of the forehead. She was now fed regularly, and was less often forgotten in public places. Annabeth's life had taken a turn for the better.

Upon finishing her ice cream, she wiped her sticky hands with a tissue and crossed her legs on the bench next to her father, content with her ice cream-filled stomach.

The two sat in peace, watching the evening grow nearer when her father's leg vibrated. He took out his phone out of his pocket and spoke in a relaxed, easy-going manner.

"Hello?"

A shaky voice answered – a woman's voice. A low, hasty voice that sounded... apologetic. Abruptly her father's mood changed, his smile vanished and was replaced by a grimace. His hands were trembling and the vein that would act up when he was upset bulged grossly from his forehead. His breathing grew more labored by the second as he shot up from his seat.

Annabeth wasn't quite sure what was going on. She almost thought he was having a heart attack. She was frightened by his behavior, the all-too-familiar behavior she witnessed during his common panic attacks, and she edged away from her father as his eyes widened in shock.

"NO!" his shriek was enough to startle passersby and make the hairs on Annabeth's arms stand up on end. Her cloudy grey eyes were round with fear as her father stood up and screamed into the device again. "YOU CAN'T!"

His face was blotchy and red and his glasses had gone askew as he screamed into the reciever, "STOP CRYING! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!" Annabeth was vaguely aware of the distant sobbing coming from the other end.

People had begun to stare in terrified fascination, whispering in confusion, and some peered curiously at Annabeth. She tried to hide behind a trashcan but her father grabbed her arm with his bony fingers. "You're not going anywhere," he growled. She cowered in fright as he yanked her back towards him. He angrily turned his attention back to his conversation.

"LISTEN TO ME. LISTEN TO ME! DON'T LEAVE – " he bellowed into the phone speakers before being cut off by the rumble of a dial tone.

There was a moment of total stillness and silence that seemed to last for an eternity. Her father seemed frozen in place; his phone dangling in one hand and other hand in an iron grip on his daughter's arm.

He let go of Annabeth and broke down in the middle of the park, falling to his knees. His heartbroken sob was mangled with feral rage, and he thrashed the ground and howled like a dying animal. Previous onlookers hurriedly walked away, not wanting to get involved. Annabeth looked at him in horror, unable to decipher what had just happened.

When he staggered to his feet again, she feared for her life.

"You," he spat, grabbing her arm again, his sunken face shoved in front of her own. She could smell the tobacco from his bared teeth. "She told me to give you her phone number," he breathed, "so you could 'stay in touch'."

He snickered, "As if I would give that bitch a chance to make my life worse." His crooked teeth were even more pronounced as he leered at her. Annabeth shook her head vigorously in hopes it would appease him.

"I bet she'd call you up to tell you new ways to make your old dad's life hell, huh?" His smile was demented.

She didn't even see his hand coming, it came so quickly. She only heard the loud crack! and felt her small frame thud to the ground, her spiny arms slammed into the pavement.

Next thing Annabeth knew, she was clutching her face in pain, her eyes watering as she bit her lip to abstain from screaming. Blood trickled down her torn elbow and chin. Her vision was blurry, and when she looked up her father's misshapen silhouette was already far, far away from her.

She collapsed to the ground, sick of everything, and fell asleep, only to be woken up hours later by a woman asking her if she was lost.

"Lost? Yes. That is how I would say it. I am very, very lost."

So? Is Kat still a decent writer? Sorry I haven't written in ages. I will get better. But stay tuned for more! Please review and tell me your opinions! :)