Logan

"Keep going Maggot! 20 more chin-ups! NOW!"

That was what Logan had to go through every day, of every week, at least twice. Logan had always sort of been a trouble-maker, but he seriously didn't see what he had done to get condemned to the hellhole known as St. David's School for Troubled Children

"Where the children come first!"

"Yeah right." Logan muttered under his breath. Most of the kids there had a good laugh at that slogan.

Logan had always had a pretty messed up life. Both his parents had died when his house was struck by lightning. He was only 7 months old then, so he didn't remember them at all. Then he got stuck in an orphanage in Buffalo, New York, and after "murdering" (he turned to freaking dust!) an "innocent" person (who had tried to kill him first!) he was sent to the nearest juvenile correctional facility. Namely St. David, in horrid Long Island.

Logan hated every bit of the place; the smell, the weather, and especially the people who sometimes came to watch during exercise hour, which was now. The visitors were given a tour by the head officer and would always give Logan "the look" when they saw him.
He knew the look, he'd been living with it his whole life. Mouth in a sort of puppy-dog shape, pity in their eyes, but with just a hint of fear saying "Society has rejected you, therefore you must be a monster."

Logan finished his pull-ups and went to the bench near the electric fence. Electric fence, Logan thought, like I have anywhere to go.

He had figured out a way to get out though. About a year ago Logan had found a single line of wire that wasn't electrified. He would frequently slip out to explore the forest outside the school. Sometimes he would take a pistol from the shooting range and go hunting. For some reason Logan had always been handy with firearms.

He decided to go for it. He made sure none of the officers were watching, then lifted the wire, slipped under, and stalked into the forest. Exercise hour won't be over for another 45 minutes, Logan told himself, I can just go in a few yards, come back, and it'll be like I never left.

Logan had only gone about 20 yards in when he suddenly heard something that sounded like growling. He turned around to face a dark, black wolf with bright red eyes perched on a nearby rock. "Hello," said Logan, "how do you do?"

The wolf responded by lunging.

Fortunately Logan was a fast thinker. Being ADHD will do that to a guy. He noticed a particularly thick branch on the ground next to him, picked it up, and hit the wolf with it with a sickening crack.

The beast was knocked on to it's side, it looked as if it was unconscious. Logan bent down to check and, with impossible speed, the wolf jumped up and pinned Logan to the ground, it's teeth two inches from his neck. And just when Logan was sure the creature would eat his face, he heard a whistling sound, the beast went still, and disintegrated into a pile of golden dust.

Logan got up, spit the dust out of his mouth, and looked behind him to see a girl with spiky black hair, wearing a black t-shirt labeled "Metalfest 2009" under her silver jacket. She was holding a silver bow and was looking at Logan with a look of slight disgust.

"You're the half-blood I was sent to rescue?" she asked with obvious distaste in her voice.

"Nice to meet you too." Logan said sarcastically.

"Just come with me, kid," the girl said, "I need to get back to camp ASAP."

Logan's mind flooded with questions as he followed the girl: What was with that wolf? What camp is she talking about? What will St. David's do when they realize I'm gone? Who is this girl? Why doesn't she like me?

After an hour or two of walking through wilderness, Logan and the girl came up to a large hill. Logan noticed a sign on top. Usually he couldn't read too well since he was born with dyslexia, but these words were loud and clear: Camp Half-blood. He also noticed a tree with a golden vest under it and a large crocodile-skin blanket wrapped around it. Wait, does that blanket have wings?!

"Good lord! Is that a dragon?!"

"Yes," the girl explained, "welcome to Camp Half-blood!"

"Looks like I'm the only one here." Logan observed. And he was right. The whole camp seemed completely empty.

"No," the girl explained, "we have a lot more campers, it's just they're in the middle of something."

"What is it?"

"A funeral," the girl explained as a tear rolled down her cheek, "for Percy Jackson."