My Mother's Killer

Ever since the mysterious death of her mother, quarter-blood Cecilia Smith has stayed with her aunt and uncle. But was her mother's death really an accident, or was she murdered? Who killed her and why? Sparrowsong 19:27, January 23, 2010 (UTC)

CECILIA POV
I ran my fingers through my hair and sighed. I wished I could have silver-blonde hair like my sister, or curly red hair like Rachelle Lefevre. But I was just stuck with long, straight brown hair.

Oh well, I thought. I may not be drop-dead gorgeous, but at least I'm not bald.

I looked in the mirror again, ignoring my hair, and smiled. A pair of wide, stormy grey eyes stared back at me. Currently accented with blue eyeshadow, they were my best feature. I got lots of comments about what pretty eyes I had.

"Cecilia, it's time to go!"

"Coming, Mom!" I shouted, running down the stairs.

"I can't believe you're going to Camp Half-Blood," Dad squealed.

"Dad, I'm fourteen," I sighed. "You act like it's my first day of kindergarten or something. Newsflash - that was nine years ago. And besides, I'm only going there because of what happened with that hellhound."

"You could have been killed."

"I risk being killed everytime I leave the house, Dad."

My parents weren't really my parents, and my dad wasn't actually related to me. My real mother, Margaret Smith, was a daughter of Athena who died when I was two, and nobody knew who my (biological) father was.

It was easy to forget that Mom and Dad were not actually my biological parents. I rarely thought about that fact. It did bother me when ignorant people pointed out that I didn't look like Dad, and both my parents had really pale blonde (think Tom Felton) hair while I had brunette hair. I just tried to ignore that most of the time, though.

Mom had the same eyes as me, though, because my mother was her sister.

"Mom," I once asked when I was around six. "Why don't I look like Dad? And how come I have brown hair when you and Dad both have blonde hair?"

She'd shifted uncomfortably, like that was a sensitive issue.

"Because," she explained. "We're not your real parents, Cecilia. Your real mom was my sister who died."

"Does that mean you're my aunt now instead of my mom?!" I'd gasped.

"Well, technically, yes. But you can still call us Mom and Dad."

"Oh, okey-dokey. What happened to my real mom?"

"Sh-she died of c-cancer. You were only two when she died, so I don't think you remember her."

Suddenly, the car stopped, making me jolt out of my seat. Thankfully, my seatbelt held me down.

This blonde guy was standing at our window. He had extremely pale skin, and intensely blue eyes, seeming to stare right into you. He looked at me.

"Come with me, or I'll kill your family," he demanded.

To be continued...