Not To Be Born

Kristen was given up for adoption as a baby, but went to live at Camp Half-Blood when she was eleven because her foster parents were cocaine addicts. Now she's thirteen and wants to know her birth parents. But she just may be disappointed with who they are. Thank Leafwhisker for the title idea. Takes place about fourteen years after The Last Olympian. For once, this is not an AU where Luke is alive. Sparrowsong 16:42, March 21, 2010 (UTC)

Chapter One
I slowly walked towards the little red house, brushing my strawberry hair out of my eyes. It was fall, and the leaves were flying all around me, almost like a leaf tornado. I hated the way they always got in my hair.

According to Chiron, this was my birth mother's house. Yes, I was given up for adoption.

What kind of a person was my birth mother?

I didn't know. I had no idea what she was like, other than the fact that she was the person who gave birth to me. Did I look like her?

I frowned. Probably not. Who could give up a baby that looked like them? I had a feeling I'd totally gotten my birth father's looks.

I made my way up the steps, holding onto the railing. I had a fear of falling down, ever since I fell out of a tree when I was seven or eight.

I took a deep breath, pulled my hands out of my pockets, and rang the doorbell. I wiped the sweat off my palms and squeezed my eyes shut.

"Are you okay?" A woman's voice. I'd never heard it before.

I opened my eyes and took in her appearance.

No, my birth mother did not look like me after all. She was tall and slim, and kind of pretty. Her skin was pretty normal, a few freckles. She had jade-green eyes and long, frizzy red hair. I noted that she had my nose.

"Do you remember me?" I questioned.

She raised an eyebrow.

"I'm your daughter."

She gasped, throwing her arms around me. She squeezed me so hard, I thought I was going to puke.

"I'm...so...sorry, Kristen!" my birth mother sobbed.

"It's fine," I muttered, hugging her back. "Why did you put me up for adoption?"

She let me in and told me to have a seat on her puffy, beige couch. I shrugged and did as she said.

"Honey, you were an illegitimate child," she explained, sitting beside me. "And I gave you up because you looked too much like your father. If you'd looked more like me, I would've kept you. I'm sorry for being so selfish."

I was crushed, but I tried to just nod and smile.

"Mom, what's your name?" I asked. I finally had someone to call Mom. "What's my father's name?"

She placed her head in her hands.

"I'm Rachel Dare," she admitted. I gasped; my mom was the Oracle?!

But the next thing she said was so shocking, I thought I was going to faint.

"And your father was Luke Castellan, son of Hermes."