AUTHOR'S NOTE: I think I'm halfway sure about where this story is going. Sorry about the summary not making sense; I'm terrible at them and I hate the stupid character limit for summaries. This was my very first story idea since 2009-11 (?) and I've been trying to improve it, make constant changes, etc. Yes, I'm kind of sure where I'm going with this. I even made an original story inspired from it. Still doing research though. Please go ahead and read on.

*Story currently set before Battle of the Labyrinth. Will be set between the 4th book and The Last Olympian later*

Only six more hours until the plane lands in New York. I want to sleep, but I can't, mostly because there's this guy next to me snoring like a nasal-congested duck. Shouldn't have chosen the window-seat.

Besides that, this feels like a good time to start writing in my journal. I made a promise, even though she knows I don't like writing and stuff like this. She told me to pen it out like I'm talking to someone else. If I did tell anyone about this they would think I'm crazy. Maybe it's a phase - if you consider beating up evil music teachers and causing house-fires as a "phase".

Well, it started out like this: a month after my 13th birthday, I had a dream about the Seattle Space Needle being destroyed.

I don't normally dream stuff like this, and it's just so weird that it's still bothering me. Right after my head had touched the pillow I appeared in the middle of an empty intersection, very alone - no crickets, no cars, no one else in sight. Nothing. I should really stop watching thriller movies before bedtime. The only light sources were a few flickering lampposts and the glowing crescent moon. My heavy breathing sounded like Darth Vader smothered by a pillow. I remember it was raining heavily all day and all night and my dream probably mirrored it, but it was slightly different: every droplet around me was suspended in midair as if time didn't matter. When I raised my hands, dozens of raindrops drifted aside and left an empty space where my hands moved, like wiping off fog on a window.

Suddenly, an invisible force exploded right in front of me and sent me flying. My landing hurt – dreams weren't supposed to hurt, were they? Unless I'd fallen off my bed in the real world, that should've woken me up.

The ground began to shake, and then a fissure slowly snaked across the pavement several feet away from me. My curiosity can be a little stupid sometimes. As I peered over, black and gold tendrils erupted barely an inch away from my nose, and the fracture began to expand. A loud guttural chuckle rattled my bones, and I couldn't tell if it was coming from the fissure or from my head. Something wanted to kill me, my instincts told me. I had a deja vu feeling that something like this happened to me before, which is weird because you'd think I'd be able to remember an experience as terrifying as that.

I ran to opposite direction. It was a bit embarrassing that this whatever-thing was chasing me while I was wearing my Power Rangers pajamas and Bad Badtz-Maru fuzzy slippers. I really hoped that wasn't the reason it wanted to kill me.

After several minutes of running faster than I could ever do P.E. class, I collapsed near a round fountain that was adjacent to another intersection. There, I knew where I was this time - Tilikum Place, a small plaza dotted with several small businesses and cafes in downtown Seattle. You can see the Space Needle tower from there.

I sat in front of the statue that stood on a pedestal in the middle of the fountain. It was the only thing that wasn't marked with symbols. It was a model of a Native American old man stretching up his hand. He looked like a grumpy version of Yoda with long hair. He stood on a rectangle block with a bear head on the front side spewing out water. The plaque on the side said Seattle: Chief of the Suquamish. The city was named after this guy. Cool.

The Space Needle viewed right behind the statue in the distance. From the angle when I stood up the statue looked like he was trying to reach the tip of the Needle. The hand glowed faintly yellow. I thought it was coming from the tower's beacon light. But when I looked again I noticed something was glued to the hand, and it was glowing brighter as I kept staring. Without a second thought, I climbed on the fountain block and up the statue. It wasn't like anyone was there to stop me. I apologized to Chief Seattle for putting my armpit near his face. After snatching the object off of his hand, I slipped and landed on my back. At least it was faster than climbing back down.

The glowing stopped when I opened my hand, and lying on my palm was a bulky ring, like a class ring, made of silver and gold. The diamond piece gave it a When a punch isn't enough vibe. It must've cost more than the White House. Why would someone leave it on a fountain statue? I tried to read the writings along the sides, but the ring began to glow very brightly and it felt hot enough to burn through my skin. And it did – sort of. The ring phased through my hand and vanished before it could hit the ground.

Then I heard a soft voice of a lady who warned me, Not yet.

"Okay," I said out loud. This was just a weird dream, I reminded myself. I will wake up soon and everything will be normal because whatever happens in dreams don't matter in the real world.

And then the ground rumbled under my feet, but not as violent as earlier. From the intersection across from me, a pillar of light shot out to the sky. It was like the Luxor Hotel, but a hundred times brighter. I had to shut my eyes and cover my hands, but even that wasn't enough.

After a minute passed, the earthquake stopped and the bright light dimmed. In the middle of the intersection stood a tall marble Greek-looking column, stretching two or three stories high. The bright light-pillar now shined at the very top of it.

It took me awhile to notice my legs were moving on their own. The pillar of light was bright and intense enough to slice through every cell in my body. As I got closer, I felt warmth emitting from the pillar. Like a blanket of radiation wrapping around my body. Sounds cozy.

I paused a few feet from the pedestal when I started hearing a faint voice – well, multiple voices, whispering in my head, which is usually not a good sign. They keep repeating Don't be afraid and a bunch of other things so jumbled together that I couldn't understand. They sounded almost desperate - about what, I had no clue.

Taking a deep breath, I continued onward. Several blocks appeared under my feet in a form of a staircase, but I didn't miss a beat. It felt like a daily routine, as natural as blinking. Once I made it to the top, the light pillar faded away until it unveiled itself.

A sword hovered in front of me. It looked like a sword-version of a stiletto or poniard dagger - the blade looked slender as a katana and pointy like a thin triangle. It was made of either silver or steel with shining wave texture, and the grip was wrapped in black leather. The pommel was an eyeball-sized clear crystal ball. What caught my attention the most was etchings on one side of the blade:

ανάθεμα

The symbols began to shudder and shift around until spelled in English, and the word read damned, from what I can remember. But then the word started to blur and other words overlapped other words like it couldn't make up its mind or something. It started giving me a migraine.

A dim light flickered inside crystal pommel when I touched the hilt. Again, the ground shuddered, and I fell off the column, which disintegrated into sparkly dust. I managed to grab the sword in time. It was lighter than it looked, barely more than the weight of a pen.

Despite the lack of lighting from the sky, the blade reflected an abnormal amount of reflective bright light. It forced me to tightly shut my eyes. I felt my body floating for a few seconds until my feet touched a surface, and when I opened my eyes, I nearly fell. I was now on the edge of a slanted, saucer-like roof about six hundred feet higher above ground.

I was standing on top of the Seattle Space Needle. I don't understand why. I like being in high places, but this was just pushing it. Why couldn't my dream take me inside the tower, or at least let me use the elevator? I've always wanted to visit the restaurant.

The first thunderclap was loud enough to make my bones rattle and the tower to tremble. The fog below grew thicker until I couldn't see the street and any of the other tall buildings. More lightning flashed in the dark sky like lines of menacing jagged teeth.

I noticed something was floating near the tip of the pole. The crystal, a part of my brain urged, but it could've been just another voice in my head. I didn't understand what my brain was talking about until I noticed something different about the sword: The crystal pommel was missing. I had a bad feeling that that piece was really important and I might die if I didn't have it, or worse.

The sword hummed like it was trying to warn me. But it was too late for me to figure it out.

I witnessed two more impossible things: 1) my shadow peeled off from under my feet; and 2) it split into five large, jet-black circles in front of me.

Before I could take one step back, the five circles molded into solid disfigured human-like figures. They were about my height, about 5'2". Some of their body parts had galaxy-like swirls, no face at all. They were hunched in awkward forms and their arms dripped onto the floor. They looked like shadow zombies that were stretched one too many times in a taffy machine and then drenched in black oil.

The middle shadow bellowed an eardrum-shattering screech/roar and charged towards me.

The sword had a mind of its own. It actually dragged me forward, right to the taffy monsters. I couldn't let go; my hand felt like it was hot-glued around the hilt. When the monster leaped in the air, the sword reached upward. My eyes were closed when that happened. Nothing happened. When I opened them, the monster was gone. Black smoke sizzled off the blade and the air smelled like burnt rubber tires.

The remaining blobs hesitated, but they stormed in, anyway. The fight didn't last long. The sword did most of the work. I kicked one off the edge. Soon there was only one. I felt unstoppable. Easy slushy.

I noticed a blood-red light glowing bright along the torch poles, brighter than the beacon light. When did the key start glowing red? I thought.

And why did I call it a key just now?

Oh well.

The last shadow had its back facing the beacon. Before it made a move, I ran toward the monster, jumped, and pushed my feet off the monster's head like a springboard. No way in hell can I do that in real life; I'd probably trip and land on my face, and that wouldn't be the first time.

I didn't think I could make it, but I remember was feeling the air actually pushing behind me or trying to pull me up, and I tumbled over the railing (and I didn't land on my face this time). I thought the shadow was too short to follow me because it was only one.

I wanted to be wrong. There wasn't one anymore. I looked back and I found dozens of shadow blobs surrounded below me – some tall or short, and big or small, some longer with claws...well, all of them seemed to have claws. They almost filled the entire rooftop.

I let out my bravest whimper. Holy crap-hole...

I watched them form a weird pyramid ladder that made me think of evil disfigured cheerleaders. I remember a searing pain from my back – three claws in a single swipe. It felt so real I nearly passed out. Is it possible to pass out in my sleep? More shadow monsters seemed to appear and multiply every time I hack and stab, like the Hydra growing back two more heads.

Climbing up a ladder six hundred feet off the ground wasn't so problematic for me. The ladder bars along the Needle's torch were so slim, I was scared they'd snap under my weight. If I made one misstep, my brain would spread across the street for more than two blocks - oh, that was a gross image I just had.

I climbed anyway, as best as I could while trying not to cut my face with a sword in my hand. My ankles and legs were tugged down on the way several times. The sword would whip below on its own will, which was great, except there were many times when I nearly lost my grip on the sword's manhandling.

The rain started pouring down this time as more thunderclouds gathered around the tower. A few shadows actually lost their grip and fell. I almost joined them. A lightning bolt barely missed me. A ladder bar snapped under my foot. The remaining creatures sounded like they were cheering with a mix of upbeat growls and screeches, no doubt encouraging me to fall. I was able to pull myself up with all my strength and reach the top. It felt almost too easy.

I hate being right at the wrong moments. Before I could take the crystal pommel piece, flashes of lightning blinded me. My arms couldn't move. It felt like metal ribbons were binding me still. There was another flash. Multiple lightning bolts began dancing around the Needle and then around me. I felt the voltage running through my sword, and my whole arm was burning so much that I couldn't feel anything.

My body was tossed away from the sonic boom. Shards of glass showered over me. Blinding white light started burning my eyes that it almost looked like the entire tower was on fire.

Yield! said a very deep, metallic voice. A faint scream of a woman echoed in my head, warning me that it was a trap.

Then I closed my eyes drowned in the black fog.

And back from the restroom break. I probably should've brought my deodorant spray with me... Maybe no one will notice when the next person uses it.

Anyway, that's where my dream ended. Pretty dramatic, I know. I simply woke up in a small bedroom lying on my twin-sized bed, didn't even jolt up or whatever. But my heart was beating like a jackhammer; sweat ran down from my forehead and the back of my neck.

Silently, I got off the bed and went to the bathroom down the hall, trying not to step on the squeaky floor spots. I removed my shirt to check my back after washing my face. The claw marks had disappeared. Of course they had - it was just a dream.

But the pain felt too real to be a dream. And I found another thing - when I lifted up my shirt, I felt my lungs dropped to my stomach: several long torn shreds covered the backside of my shirt as if a cat took its anger out on it. Those tears weren't there before, I was sure of it. Also, my foster family didn't have a cat.

Without another thought, I stuffed my ruined shirt in the trash bin. Got tired of that shirt anyway, I tried convincing myself.

As I turned off the lights and stepped out, a shadow appeared in the hallway. I made a quiet yelp. For a moment, I thought the taffy shadow zombies were real - but it turned out to be a little kid with really curly hair, my foster parents' son. He was still sleepy, but he knew it was me. He asked if I was okay.

I wasn't sure how to answer that question. The answer A big scary monster tried to eat me! would just sound ridiculous for a thirteen-year-old to say that to a small third-grader; so I told him I only had a bad dream and I was okay.

"Are you sure?" the kid asked.

"Yeah," I said. "It was just a dream."

"Just a dream." I don't think he believed me.

After telling him not to worry about me and to go back to bed, I went back to the bathroom, washed my face, then placed my hand against the mirror and stared at it. I still remembered the feeling when I held that sword, all that power – no, what the hell am I thinking? I don't care about power. I know I don't. Power is not always good...right? That was a really crazy dream, anyway. I shouldn't overthink it.

I found myself rubbing the pendant of my necklace, a habit whenever I think a lot. There was so much to think about. The sword, the monsters... all of those red glyphs from my dream. They looked like they were written in blood. I'm scared to think that it might be my blood. And the part when my arm felt like it was burning...I don't know why I'm remembering this now, but when I had woke up I realized my hand that held the sword and the rest of my arm felt so numb it was almost buzzing. Pins and needles. It worried me.

I don't know why I wrote a lot, or why I wrote it like a story, but I'm kind of glad I finally let it out. I know it was just a dream, but still... I don't know. It's just weird that I still remember that particular dream that happened months ago.

And another thing - I have a strange feeling something's going to happen soon. That didn't feel like a normal dream, more like a warning. It's still not very clear to me. Whatever it is, I know I'll be the one who caused the problem. Maybe I'm just nervous. My life's going to change a lot. I just know it.

Well, I should stop right here for now. The sleeping guy next to me looks like he's about to lean over and drool on my head. I'm going to try to push my luck and see if I can convince the pretty flight attendant to move me to First Class.