She was a beautiful child with her gold locks and blue eyes. I loved her more than anyone else in the world. I always got her gifts of flowers that either I created or were grown by nature. She always loved my gifts, and I loved how Persephone was mine.
Apollo was almost finished driving his bright chariot, what the humans call the sun, when I came back to get her from her playdate with some nymphs. The sky was red and beautiful, but gray storm clouds were swiftly enveloping it. I wanted to get home to Mt. Olympus before the rain came and my little brother Zeus struck the land with his lightning. Getting zapped would have been terrible after having to deal with pretentious mortals all day. With a smile, I called out, “Persephone! Time to go home!” I waited while a small group of nymphs looked over in my direction. I hoped to see her face. For her hug me while I ruffled her hair and smothered her with kisses. Instead, a nymph hurried to me. She had this wild look in her eyes. I would never forget the two words that came out of her mouth: “She’s gone.” I could care less as a lightning bolt flew down and struck that nymph’s tree just nearby.

I began to search the entire earth for my daughter, scared for her safety. I remember going without food, drink, and bathes for days on end. I remember attacking random mortals while screaming, “Where is my daughter?! Where is Persephone?!” Before Hecate, the goddess of witchcraft, could calm me down, I had ruined the lives of many people. Some laid dead or dying from starvation. Snow covered the ground. I did not feel guilty for what I did. My baby was missing, and I would not stop until I had her back.
Hecate told me to talk to Apollo, who could have seen where Persephone went. So I did. Apollo knew all along. The problem is that the buffoon never told me afterwards. He waited for me to come to him. Anyway, I found that my daughter had been kidnapped. I never expected Hades, of all gods and mortals, to have Persephone. He was known to be a loner. He was always in his realm: the Underworld. Why would he want a wife? Nobody liked him, and I hated him for taking my daughter away from me.
Zeus, ruler of Mt. Olympus, sent Hermes to get my dear Persephone back. I remember pacing Zeus’ throne room while waiting for Hermes. Finally, he returned. I grabbed ahold of Persephone as soon as he set her on the ground and kissed her. I did not let go until she pushed me away. My celebrations did not last long, because Hades showed up. He said that Persephone had ate pomegranate seeds from the Underworld. When someone ate something from the Underworld, they had to stay there. There was no use fighting it. Rules were rules. We had to obey them.
Zeus, Hades, Persephone, and I went to see Rhea, our mother and in Persephone’s case, her grandmother. She was to make the decision of how long Persephone was to stay in the Underworld. I begged with her to only send Persephone there three months of the year. That didn’t work. Rhea declared that my daughter was to stay there six months of the year. I cried a long time after that. My daughter, not Hades’ wife. Never his.
That is why when Persephone had to go back to the Underworld, I slapped him. Hard, if I may add. He took it, but he looked as if he wanted to kill me afterwards.
Since then, me slapping Hades whenever he came for my daughter became a tradition of mine. The other gods get a kick out of it, and every fall they gather to see me hand off my daughter. Whenever I hit him, Persephone cringes, runs to him, and asks if he is alright afterwards. Then she gives me a glare. I think I will never, ever see what she has for him. Never.