The crinkling sound of a candy wrapper was heard as Amara stabbed one with a trash stick before stuffing it into a plastic bag. It was her simple way of saying 'Thank you' to the Sea God. The demigods who had recently been arriving seemed careless and forgetful. This beach was not theirs like the one back at that camp on Long Island. What was it called? Camp Demigod? It was something like that. The ones still coming in seemed to forget that they couldn't litter on the sacred ground. She may have seemed like a suck up to most of the new demigods coming in, but she only saw it as a way to show all of the Gods how grateful she was for pulling her out of her old life. To think that one of them was actually her father and that he cared enough to pull her out. She was more than grateful to him most of all.
Turning around, Amara realized that she had cleaned the beach as best as she could with her single plastic bag. Happy with her work, and hoping that Poseidon would be pleased with her. Hopefully he would understand that she knew what a big deal it was to be on Olympus and that she would not forget. She would never forget her debt to the Gods. Setting the bag on the ground, she sat down on the warm sand. Later she would probably find the grains in her dress, but she didn't mind. She let her toes dig into the sand and closed her eyes. She loved the Gods and her father. The thought occasionally bothered her. The thought was, 'Why hadn't they come sooner?'. It was always pushed away. The fact was that they came at all.
Amara didn't detest her mother either. She was doing what she thought was best for her daughter. . . . or so she tried to fool herself into believing that. She knew the truth though, her mother cared only for herself. She wouldn't have cared if her boyfriend had so much as raped her daughter. She just wanted drugs and an easy life. Amara was the ticket to it. It came to her often, especially when she was alone, even after a year had passed. It was also the times such as this that made her feel so alone. She knew the Gods were there, but they couldn't help her every need. She was lucky that they had helped one of them.
It was too much for Amara to think about. A tear slid down her cheek. She hated crying out in the open like she was. In bed in the Hermes cabin she didn't mind so much, at least she could be silent and nobody would see her there. Biting the inside of her cheek, she wiped the tear away and muttered 'Ow' just in case someone was standing behind her. That way she could put on the illusion that sand had gotten into her eye. Either way the tears had to stop. Her mother didn't care then and she wouldn't care now. All the stealing in the world wouldn't have made her mother love her as a daughter.
Standing up, Amara picked up her bag to throw it away. She let her fake, but not obvious, smile come to her face as she went off to toss the garbage. As she turned to leave, someone was standing there. (It was a good thing she had decided to put on a facade)
"Hello!" Amara said. She probably looked quite frightening holding the sharp stick, but hopefully her friendly appearance wouldn't scare the someone away. "I'm Amara, who are you?" She asked politely.
((Please do not respond unless you can keep up with my length at a decent pace. Meaning None of you people who only do the minimum :PP))
Turning around, Amara realized that she had cleaned the beach as best as she could with her single plastic bag. Happy with her work, and hoping that Poseidon would be pleased with her. Hopefully he would understand that she knew what a big deal it was to be on Olympus and that she would not forget. She would never forget her debt to the Gods. Setting the bag on the ground, she sat down on the warm sand. Later she would probably find the grains in her dress, but she didn't mind. She let her toes dig into the sand and closed her eyes. She loved the Gods and her father. The thought occasionally bothered her. The thought was, 'Why hadn't they come sooner?'. It was always pushed away. The fact was that they came at all.
Amara didn't detest her mother either. She was doing what she thought was best for her daughter. . . . or so she tried to fool herself into believing that. She knew the truth though, her mother cared only for herself. She wouldn't have cared if her boyfriend had so much as raped her daughter. She just wanted drugs and an easy life. Amara was the ticket to it. It came to her often, especially when she was alone, even after a year had passed. It was also the times such as this that made her feel so alone. She knew the Gods were there, but they couldn't help her every need. She was lucky that they had helped one of them.
It was too much for Amara to think about. A tear slid down her cheek. She hated crying out in the open like she was. In bed in the Hermes cabin she didn't mind so much, at least she could be silent and nobody would see her there. Biting the inside of her cheek, she wiped the tear away and muttered 'Ow' just in case someone was standing behind her. That way she could put on the illusion that sand had gotten into her eye. Either way the tears had to stop. Her mother didn't care then and she wouldn't care now. All the stealing in the world wouldn't have made her mother love her as a daughter.
Standing up, Amara picked up her bag to throw it away. She let her fake, but not obvious, smile come to her face as she went off to toss the garbage. As she turned to leave, someone was standing there. (It was a good thing she had decided to put on a facade)
"Hello!" Amara said. She probably looked quite frightening holding the sharp stick, but hopefully her friendly appearance wouldn't scare the someone away. "I'm Amara, who are you?" She asked politely.
((Please do not respond unless you can keep up with my length at a decent pace. Meaning None of you people who only do the minimum :PP))