The box shuddered. He could feel it going in only one direction – up. The boy couldn't figure out whether it was a good thing or a bad thing. He just wanted to know when it would stop. Barely awake, he fumbled with the blue pen in his right hand. I am in a dark box, and I have a pen in my hand. I am so tired. I feel so sick. I don't know my name. Where am I going. This isn't weird at all.A sudden change in direction made the boy dive for the floor and vomit up the remnants of his last meal – whatever that was.

After a few minutes, cowering in his own sick, he looked up (or what he thought was up) and saw a quickly growing square of light. Light. He was nearly out of this torture, hopefully. He grimaced at the thought. He stood up carefully and slipped the pen into his pocket with the thought that if he lost it, it could possibly be the end of the world. As the light started flooding into the metal chamber, he had a sudden flashback or two words. Percy Jackson. Demigod. He staggered, his mind giving birth to a sudden headache. Percy…that name sounds familiar, he thought. It must be his name…yes, that was his name.
As he leaned against one of the walls, the box came a halt. He thought he saw faces swimming above him. A rope dropped down from above and landed at his feet.
"Are ya comin' or what, greenie?" grunted a rough voice after a while. It must be Percy's cue to get out of the freaking box.
"Huh?" replied Percy like a drunk man, who grabbed the ropes end, uncertain of what will happened next.
"Are you goin' to get out of the box?" said the same voice.
"Okay…yep…" Percy nodded and got a firm grip on the rope and placed his foot in the loop. A strong force from above pulled him up and over the ledge onto a grassy area.

Sprawled out on the soft grass, Percy had only just become aware of other people, like, lots of other people all staring. At him. Suddenly self conscious, Percy brushed back his dark hair and hoped that he didn't like he'd just been swimming in his own sick.
There were boys and girls. Teenagers. Kids.
"Who's his godly parent…" they were saying.
"Not the prettiest piece of klunk I've ever seen"
"He looks buggin' stupid"
"Ew gross! He vomited in there!"
"What's ya name newbie?" asked a scratchy voice from between the figures. Percy had to turn his head to catch the owner. It was a loose and lanky looking teen with what looked like a patch of sand on his head.
"It's… uhhh…. Percy. I think." Fear was creeping out of him, very slowly, but Percy didn't feel like he was going to die anymore.
The grunting voice that pulled him out of the box belonged to a thick looking dark skinned boy. Gesturing the scene around him, he said "Okay then, Percy. Welcome to the Glade."