Runaway Daughter [Mikaelson Daughter] ✓

Chapter 2

It's been years since I've last seen a Mikaelson.

I've traveled all around the globe. Paris, London, Germany, Sokovia, and more.

I've seen hundreds of different cultures, learned new languages, and tasted new food.

But with all of that, nothing beats a beignet from New Orleans. They are absolutely delicious and I would kill to have one, not literally of course.

Currently, I'm in New York. I decided to head back to the U.S. only because I have missed a greasy burger from America. Nothing taste the same compared to a McDonald's burger, which I'm not too sure if that's a good or bad thing.

It's an acquired taste for some people. It's a big dilemma in all honesty, some people hate it, some people like it, some people just eat it because they're hungry.

As I'm sitting in Central Park eating my burger and sipping on my sprite, I hear a commotion on the opposite side of the fountain. I look up to see two men yelling while a younger girl is behind one of them.

One man looks fairly young, couldn't be older than 17. The other man looks to be older, maybe his 50s. The girl looks like she's 16, maybe even 17. Close to the younger guy and my age.

Me being who I am, I listen in, or at least try to, on what they're arguing about.

"Enough alright! This isn't about your past experiences! My daughter isn't going to be a part of this. And so help me, I will call Caroline if anything happens like this again" The Older man yelled to the younger guy.

"I'm not saying she should go around doing what I did Alaric! I'm saying she needs to understand the bad choices I made so she doesn't repeat them!" The younger guy yelled to Alaric.

What a funny name, a bit of a mouthful.

"You don't get to decide that, You. Are. Not. Her. Father" Alaric said, pausing between spaces.

The younger guy had a hurt look on his face but before he could say anything, Alaric grabbed, whom I assume is his daughter's hand and walked away.

"Damn, it's brutal out here" I muttered to myself, while picking up my trash and walking towards the trash can.

I didn't spare a glance at the distraught teen and kept walking. I didn't know where I wanted to go so I just walked for a couple minutes because my feet were hurting.

I tried to keep up with New York fashion and wear boots with a heel. Let's just say, these will be my sitting down at event shoes.

As I walked slowly down the street, thanks to the newfound blisters, I heard another argument. I decided I had nothing better to do so I walked cautiously over to where It was coming from and peeked around the corner to put a face to the voices.

To my surprise, it was the girl from earlier, Alaric's daughter.

She was very pretty, now that I could see her. She had blonde hair, fair colored skin, she had good fashion sense from what I could see.

Before I could continue with my examination of the girl any farther, I tuned in and heard she wasn't arguing with someone, but was defending herself against some people.

There was a group of people in all black with hoods on, like some scary voodoo cult.

Witches.

God, I would say I hate witches but I am a witch, and I love Hermione so that would be false.

I heard whispering and muttering coming from the group and figured they were doing a spell on the girl. I didn't know if she knew about the whole supernatural extravaganza that took place but I knew she was scared. I could feel her fear radiating off of her.