Daughters of Lightning and Ice

The Car

 "CALLIOPE GRACE MCLEAN!" I shouted, stomping down the short hallway, my hands on my hips. "GET BACK HERE!" I walked down the stairs of our house in New Rome. It was more than enough space for Calliope and I. The first floor was very open and spacious. The entire bottom floor only had one half wall, between the kitchen/dining area, and the living room.

I reached the bottom of the steps, and walked out into the living room. It was simple, and was barley decorated, but it was a mess. Coloring books and loose paper were scattered across the oak coffee table and wood floor. Crayons, markers, colored pencils, and paint, were also scattered all over the place, along with colorful marks on the walls, table, and floor. I sighed. I loved Calliope, but she was a handful.

"CALLIOPE COME ON!" I yelled, continuing to walk through the house. I walked through the small arch into the dining room. It only consisted of a cheap wood table and chairs, but the room was a mess. I had a few pictures on the wall, but that was the extent of my decorating.

I looked past the table to the kitchen. The house was very nice and surprisingly modern for New Rome. From the outside, it was made out of marble like every other building in the city, but inside, it was pretty well updated. The cabinets were a nice white, and the counters and island had quartz countertops. It would be nice, but the part of the island facing the dining room, which had a few bar stools lined along it, was splattered with green paint.

Calliope stood near the counter. She was taller than it, but only by half a foot. Her curly black hair was a mess. It was barley past her shoulders, and it looked like a lion's mane. If it grew longer, it would get even more tangled, and would get paint splattered all over it. So, I always took her to cut it when it got past her shoulders. She would need another haircut when we got back from Camp Half-Blood next month.

Calliope had never gone to camp, but I knew I wanted her to go when she was older. She was still young, probably around five. We weren't sure of her exact age, and she couldn't remember her birthday. She had been young when Percy and Annabeth found her in Rome, right after part of the city had caved in. So, this year, I was taking her there for a month. So she could see the camp, and when she went to it later, she wouldn't be scared, and she would be familiar with the place. She had been there before, but when she was really young. When I had first got her.

"Calliope what are you doing?" I demanded. She whipped her head to me, and I saw her pink t-shirt was splattered with paint. "And why are you covered in paint!"

"I was getting my drawing stuff!" she said, stomping her foot. I sighed. Since I had had her, Calliope was always drawing. At first she would just find a pencil and paper, and sketch little stick figures. I bought her crayons and markers. Now, she drew all the time. She had unlimited art supplies, which was always scattered around the house. She loved to paint. I'd got her cheap watercolors, which had turned out to be the messiest mistake of my life.

I sighed. "I told you to put all the toys and supplies in your bag last night!"

"I know Mommy," Calliope said, as she tucked a pack of markers into her tiny, pink backpack, "but, I didn't know which ones, and needed time to think!"

"Fine, whatever. We need to go, we were supposed to leave twenty minutes ago!" I was annoyed. Really annoyed. "So hurry up!"

Calliope's eyes widened, and she looked down. "Sorry mommy..."'

I frowned. "It's okay," I said softly, "just make sure to be ready next time." Calliope was sensitive. And when she got mad, she could cause a lightning storm. She was not an easy kid to deal with.

Calliope stuffed a few more things in her bag, and bounced over to me. I smiled, and said, "Come upstairs, and get your duffle bag. I'll get the suitcases, and other bags." Calliope nodded, and we went up the stairs together.