Just because Annabeth couldn't talk, did not mean she could not hear. It didn't mean she couldn't  respond. It didn't mean she couldn't hurt.

And she was hurting a lot.

Her dad would look at her sadly, and turn away. He was disappointed in her. She could be so much, if she could just make a noise... Her step mother...She made Annabeth's life miserable. She would mock her, try to make her talk. Her step mother had her do an outrageous number of chores, and whispered she could get out of them if she just made a sound.

One time Annabeth refused to do anything. She was young, her dad had just remarried, and Helen, her step mother, and her two sons, Matthew and Bobby, had just moved in.

That was the first time she got hit.

That was the first time her brothers openly criticized her.

The first time her dad turned a blind eye to everything.

The first time Annabeth realized she was on her own.

It hurt then. It hurt now.

Ever since she ran into that boy, her pain had grown only worse. The look in his eyes. She couldn't even say sorry.

And she couldn't get him out of her mind. He had a charm to him, something in his dull sea green eyes, like a beautiful light that had been shut off. He looked fragile, just she felt.

She could be so much....

And sometimes it hurt to dream.

Annabeth was born mute. She couldn't talk. She'd tried endlessly. But she just could not make a sound. She could do rapid fire sign language. She could give people glares that would scared them to death.

She could design pictures of beautiful houses that would never be seen because she couldn't tell anyone about them.

But for some reason people tended to forget she could hear.

Like the teachers in the middle of class. Telling everyone she was a star student, not because she had the highest marks, which she did, but because Annabeth Chase couldn't talk.

"Annabeth!" Helen snapped waking into the kitchen where Annabeth was mopping. "I told you an hour ago I wanted the boys laundry done!"

Annabeth gestured to the mop in her hand and the kitchen.

"Get the laundry done!" Helen said sharply, "Then I want the table set in my golden wedding China."

Annabeth dropped her shoulders. The China took forever to clean. And and boys had been throwing mud at each other earlier.

"Oh and the Washers broken." Helen added with a smirk. "But you know....if you just said a word I could make Matthew and Bobby clean it up themselves..."

Annabeth looked away, before Helen could see the tears threatening to spill. A pain in her chest tightened.

"Annabeth! Look at me when I'm taking to you!"

Annabeth shook her head, refusing to give Helen the satisfaction of her frustrated tears. Helen had no idea what it was like to not be able to talk.

"Annabeth!"

Helen had no idea how much Annabeth tried. She really did. Every night she'd try to make a sound. She'd studied billions of documents on vocal repairs. She'd checked out hundreds of books related to the matter. And then she worked on Homework.

And she still got top grades.

"Annabeth Chase!"

Why couldn't they just appreciate her? She wasn't that different.

"Annabeth do you hear me?! Or, You stupid freak of nature, did you go deaf as well?!"

The mop dropped out of Annabeth's hands, they were shaking so bad.

"Look at the mess you've made!" Helen shrieked, "Get this cleaned up!"

Annabeth closed her eyes. Trying to ignore the pounding in her head. Her eyes dying with unshead tears. She saw a flash of movement then she was on the ground. Her cheek burned, she could see a distinct red handprint on her face in the shine of the wet tile floor.

Helen towered over her, a nasty sneer on her face. "Get it changed up."

Annabeth could feel her heart racing. She gritted her teeth. And then she pulled herself up. Helen smirked in victory.

"Wonderful, after you set the table with the wedding China, I want the attic cleaned out and the living room dusted-"

Annabeth glared at her step mother. She shook her head no. And then she did something incredibly stupid for a girl as bright a her. She flicked Helen off. Annabeth turned and walked out the door of the kitchen and pulled her jacket from a peg by the door.

"Why you little bastard!" Helen screeched, "Get back in here, right this second!"

But by the time the words were out of her mouth, Annabeth was out the door and down the driveway. The sun was setting a cool breeze dropping the temperature rapidly. Annabeth shivered.

She had no idea where to go. She had no idea what she was doing. Annabeth just knew she couldn't sirens another second with her step mother near her.

The sky a dark purple color with faint flickers of stars. Flashes of lights dazzled the sky not too far away and if she calmed down her breathing enough, she could hear the music of a party.

Annabeth walked down the street, the only lights from near by porches or sidewalk lamps. Cars drove by with a rumble, a couple people walking dogs walked around her with a friendly smile.

She saw on one of the nearby driveways a guy kissing a girl. When they both pulled away, Annabeth wanted to cry. Their eyes glistened with so much love it made her feel empty. Why couldn't she have that? Where was her soul mate?

Annabeth wiped away the tears.

She hadn't noticed the path she was taking until she stood on the steps of the library. The stone building loomed over her, the lights on. Annabeth's watch read six o'clock, despite the dark shroud of night and the crisp winter wind.

The library always made her calm, always reassured her things would get better. It got better for the fictional characters. Why wouldn't they get better for her?

The sweet smell of paper and the quiet aura of peace wrapped around her as she pushed through the doors. Immediately she felt warmer. The librarian at the front desk smiled at her as she walked by. Annabeth nodded back.

She couldn't quite muster the smile. Her cheek felt like a hot rod was being pressed into it.  Her chest ached in pain. Her eyes were watery with tears threatening to fall.

The back part of the library was for fiction. The entire back shelves filled with fantasy. Tables were set up randomly through the building, and changed frequently depending on who needed the tables for what. There was one table that never moved. In the back section, with a comfy chair a revolving stack of books.

Annabeth's table.

Anyone who went to the library knew, never to touch that table. The books on it were the ones Annabeth was reading. If it was any more remote than it would have been in a different country.

For once in her life, Annabeth didn't feel like reading.

She collapsed into her chair basically shaking with the effort to hide the sadness. She pushed the stack of books over, so it was teetering dangerously on the edge of the wooden desk. Annabeth crossed her arms and placed her head in her hands.

Something wet skimmed down her cheek. Then another. Then another. Annabeth let her tears fall. Her shoulders shook. But even her sobbing was silent.

"Uh, Hey, you okay?"

The voice picked through her thoughts.

Annabeth exhaled harshly, her hand subconsciously signed [go away].

"Are you sure?"

Annabeth looked up, tears blurry and unfocused. Standing in front of her was a built Chinese Canadian guy. He looked at her with a mixture of sympathy and remorse. His eyes were exhausted, but he didn't leave her.

Annabeth closed her eyes. [Yes] she signed. She sniffled.

"You don't look okay."

Annabeth wanted to tell him to back off. To let her drown in her own misery. Most people would've stopped after she raised her hand to sign.

The boy put his stack of books down on the table next to her untouched stack. He crouched next to her.

"The library's going to be closing in a couple minutes." He said, "It's almost nine."

It felt like she'd just gotten there. A headache blossomed in her forehead. What she wouldn't give for some Advil.

Annabeth nodded a thank you to the guy. He looked like he wanted to say something but thought better of it. He picked up his books and turned to go.

"My mom taught sign language to me when she came back from the army. If you ever need to...talk...I'm always at the diner across the street from nine to ten studying." He said.

Annabeth nodded, he casted her a softened glance before disappearing behind another shelf. Annabeth wiped her tears on her sleeve, sniffling. Her cheek had dulled down to a faint pain. She breathed deeply.

She didn't want to go back. She'd be in even worse shape. Helen would be furious, she'd probably get another slap. She'd have to sneak in to her own room, and leave before Helen got up in the morning. Annabeth had no place to go to. She couldn't live by herself.

Annabeth picked up her books and exited her comfy corner. The library was warm against the cold front outside. She stumbled down the steps and narrowly dodged a dark haired, pale boy carrying an unconscious. He yelled an apology, but didn't stop he was in such a hurry.

The girl didn't look healthy. The Hospital was just down the block. Annabeth didn't try to stop him.

Across the street, the diners lights shone yellow on the parking lot. The Chinese Canadian guy from earlier opened on of the double doors, turning to look at her as if to say are you coming?

Annabeth shook her head and started waking back to her house. The boy nodded once and walked into the diner. At the same time, two people came out of the diner in a heated agreement.

Their voices carried through the air, striking Annabeth where she stood.

"This is a terrible idea, Jason!" The girl yelled, "That Dragon probably means a lot to him!"

"How else am I going to get my car fixed?" The guy argued back, "Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful for your help in diving me. But I can't keep depending on you, Pipes!"

The girl froze a pink blush creeping onto her face.

"What?" The guy asked softly, worriedly. "You okay?"

"Yeah it's just...you called me Pipes." Now they were both blushing.

Annabeth turned away, quickening her pace. Her heart felt like breaking. She wanted someone to hold her and love her so much. She wanted someone who didn't care that she couldn't talk. She wanted someone to save her.

The child night air chilled Annabeth to her bone. It was like someone had poured ice water all over her. She tightened her grip of her jacket around her waist counting the sidewalk concrete blocks as she went.

Somewhere around 107, everything started going wrong.

The shadows started creeping up to her. The nearby alley had a terrifying growling coming from it. The wind blew harder.

Then the hand grabbed her shoulder.

"Hey, pretty girl," a voice hissed in her ear, "Where you headed this late at night?"

Even if Annabeth could've screamed, she didn't have the time.

Something hit the back of her had hard and she toppled to the ground. The last thing Annabeth Chase saw was a single red eye printed on a black shirt: the logo for the most notorious gang in the State, the Monsters.