In my dream, an ugly man spoke to me.
He said that he was my father, that my mother had loved him but then had never arranged my birth, that I was an accident.
He told me to go to New York.
I did.
It's been two weeks since I ran away from that crappy foster home and got here, Camp Half Blood. I was stuck with the Hermes kids for a couple of days, but then I was claimed. I'm a child of Hephaestus, god of fire and machines and that kind of stuff.
It's kind of amazing. I have so much control now, so much power, power that used to control me. Now, I control the power. So yeah, f**k you, foster home! Now I am home.
The other night, me and my new bud, Clara, we kinda just went out to the workshop, and totally- get this- built a flying car. We're gonna run away, soon as we test it and steal the supplies. I'm a good thief. I'm no child of Hermes, but I'm all right.
When we run away, I'm gonna keep a journal. This journal. If you find it, that means I'm probably dead, but don't worry, I'll keep you posted.
Oh! I just realized! I forgot to tell you my name!
I'm Layna.
Layna Burrosa.