If I was Rick Riordan, would I be writing this here? Thank you for using your brains enough to figure out the right answer. If anyone has any tips to make Ally as little Mary Sue-ish as possible, I would appreciate them. And I take full credit for being awful. Alianne Thompson always woke up at 6:00. Always. She didn't need an alarm clock, she just woke up that way.

Today was different. Ally yawned. She stretched and looked at the clock hanging on the wall. 8:45. What?!? But this wasn't possible! She always woke up early. Always. No exceptions. She rushed across the room.

"Oh my God! Why didn't Mom wake me up?Oh my God! How can this be happening? ''She pulled on her jeans. "I'm going to be late! Tardy! " She felt awful, even though it was a silly thing to get upset about. She had never been was a sorta good student, even though she struggled with her light case of dyslexia. Ally put on h her silky copper blouse. Ally looked back at the clock: 5:49. Oh. Oh. She was early. She slipped her feet into her sneakers and sighed.

She walked into the bathroom and studied herself in the mirror as she started to comb her hair. Ally had red-blond hair, with coppery brown streaks. It was long, halfway down her back. The only problems were that it tangled easily and that sometimes her dandruff was so bad that her shoulders were almost covered. Ally had threatened to shave it all off no matter how weird itlooked, and had even tried to cut it with safety scissors. Her mother had said " Your hair's so pretty" and " It's completely natural for girls to have dandruff" and " Do you know that thousands of women would kill to have hair like yours?" . Please. I hope it's not too sunny today. Her hair glistened a bit in the thought it was because of the extra oil in there. Her classmates thought differently. In their minds she was a loner, a geek, freaky. The fact that her grades were ok despite her ADHD and dyslexia did not help her cause. In fact, it destroyed it.

If it's sunny I might want to wear a it won't be sunny. Ally frowned. How did she know that? She rubbed her eyes wearily. Her eyes looked different now, the usual amber brown looked browner.

It's gonna be a tough day, she thought. She had no idea how right she was.

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"Oh, Abby, what a beautiful drawing!" said Mrs. Miller. "You did the assignment perfectly."

" Uh, it's Ally."

"Whatever." Mrs. Miller sneered. She hated the fact that I was a better artist than the rest of the class put together. Which wasn't really very hard, considering that a quarter of the students couldn't tell a straight line from a curvy one. I sighed. I was good at music and acting.(Well, yeah, I'm overly dramatic. What do you expect?) I I was a good dancer. But my ADHD and the fact that trouble always seemed to find me ruined everything. The only friend I'd ever had was Katherine, an even bigger wildlife fanatic than my mom, if that was possible. Ok, so I can't aim if my life depends on it,(which is why I'm failing gym,even though I'm the fastest runner in my class) and my highest grade in Math is an F. So I'm failing pratically every other subject and I still type with my index fingers because I'm too lazy to do it any other way. And so maybe there are blind people who have neater handwriting than I have. And so maybe I fall asleep in Social Studies. It's not my fault that it's that boring. I sighed again and spent the next 5 minutes doodling in my notebook.

BRRRRRIIIIIIINGGGGGG!!!!!!!! The bell rung. Finally. If I had to look at my math teacher's overly large nostrils or the hair on my social studies teacher's upper lip again I think I'll go crazy, I thought. I tried not to think about the fact that I was already so insane that a little more craziness woudn't make such a big difference. I gathered my things together, stuffed them into my already crammed-full backpack, and walked out the door. I hurried through the hallway as quickly as possible. I had already learned the hard way that if you didn't move fast, you got trampled. I didn't feel like learning again.

As I hurried through the front door, I heard 2 very familiar voices. One belonged to Mrs. Miller, the other belonged to her cousin, Ms. Virginia Green, the secretary.

" … the impertinent godling will finally get what is coming for her."

" Shouldn't we bring her to the master? Surely we could put such a powerful half-blood like her to good use." Ms. Green whispered.

" No! And you will not tell him of her, Sister! I forbid it! This is the time for our revenge. She shall pay for her impertinence, … in blood." Sister? I thought they were cousins. And blood? This is just way too creepy. Or maybe she said something else and my ADHD is just acting up again.

" We strike tonight." Mrs. Miller continued. I could feel the gaze of the 2 old ladies follow me through the door and down the steps. Their stares bore through me. And even though the weather was warm, I shivered.

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I walked through the front door, and was hit almost immediately with the smell of cookies. " Hi, Mom. Smells good." I said, breathing in deeply to smell better.

" What is it? Smells like chocolate ch-, no, more like peanut but-, or maybe sugar cookies?" I sniffed a little more as I walked into the kitchen.

"All of them. They're for the daycare, darling. And don't even think that you can have a single one."

"Then what's that batch doing in the oven?" I asked slyly and smiled. Mom smiled back, just as slyly.

See, I guess I have to explain a little about my mom.

First, she's beautiful. Her dark brown hair is curly with the same copper streaks in her hair that I have in mine. She has green , she's got an amazing singing voice. It's really sad that she has such a big case of stage fright. Third, she is the kindest, nicest person in the whole world. Period. I mean, she works so hard. We get along really well, if you don't count the twice a week fight and the breakdowns that I get. She does finances or something like that everyday and works in a daycare every other afternoon. She has an even worse case of dyslexia than I do, but if you could see how hard and how much she works against it, it would almost break your heart. (Or at least make you feel really really sad.) I sniffed again, not just because the cookies smell so good (even though they do), but because I was sad for Mom. She had raised me. She had taken care of me since the day I was born, (and I know that it probably wasn't easy, me being such a brat, even though I always insist that I'm not) and my father hadn't even visited us.'Dancing Queen' started to play, the sound coming from my mothers new iPod .

" I have to go to the daycare center, honey. Will you be okay here on your own?" Mom asked.

" Sure, Mom." I had been alright every other time she left me at home alone; why should today be any different? I know it's mean to say this about your own mother, but sometimes I swear she's afraid of her own shadow.

By the time I had finished my homework, Mom was at the door again.

DingDing-Dong. The doorbell. Mom must be really upset. She never rings the doorbell. She always uses her key. I ran to the door. " Hi,Mom. … What's wrong? "

"Something isn't right. I feel it." I shut the door, and followed my mother into the living room. She sat down in a chair and patted the chair seat next to her, inviting me to sit down. I sat.

"Oh Mom, do you still think that the man in the yellow raincoat is stalking you? I've already told you, that man is your coworker and he happens to live across the street." "No, it's not that. It's... Honey, look at me." She gave me the heart-shaped trinket box that had always sat on her desk. " There's an adress in this. If anything happens to me I want you to go there. A summer camp that your father wanted you to go to."

A summer camp? Why would my father want me to go to a summer camp if he hadn't even seen me yet?

Mom continued. " I've been there before. It's a good place." Her eyes pleaded with me. " If anything happens promise me that you'll go. Promise." I was shaken. There were a million things I wanted to say. Mostly: "Do they cook better meals than the cafeteria at our school?" and "If they have free internet service, and I get a laptop for my birthday,I'll go."

"O-okay, Mom. I'll go.'' I gulped.

The door broke down.

"They're here. Go! Go! Run, Ally, run! I'll hold them off. You get out."

"But, Mom!" I was scared now.

"GO! Go,Ally! If everything works out, I'll be at camp just a few days after you get there. Now, go."

I bit my lip, not wanting to point out the fact that she had said if . Instead, I started to cry a little bit. I ran to the back door. (Like I said, I'm fast.) As I jumped onto my bike, I saw who, or rather what the monsters were. Mrs. Miller, Ms. Green, an old lady that looked just like them, and a bunch of black dogs the size of lions. But and the other old ladies looked different,like hags, like...harpies. I blinked. Is my ADHD acting up, or what? Start moving. I told myself. Maybe the people at that weirdo camp can help. I must have been pedaling for a half hour when I looked back at the house. It was in flames. I started crying even harder, if that was even possible.

After pedaling and crying for about three hours, my bike was snatched from under me so quickly, that the tears stopped falling.I rolled on my side and landed with my right knee up. I stood up slowly, and looked right into the face of a teenage boy with bleachblond hair and eyes like black, bottomless pits. I guess you could say that the guy was cute, sure, but then you saw the cruel expression on his face, and the ginormous group of monsters behind him that looked like they'd walked out of my mythology book.

"Well,well,well. What do we have here?" And before I could say anything, two monsters pinned my arms behind my back, and a large, smelly cloth was pressed over my face.

And I sunk into darkness.