The True Story of the Olympian Heirs

I Accidentally Knocked Out My Pre-Algebra Teacher

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Recently added- Vlog1- I Accidentally Knocked Out My Pre-Algebra Teacher

Look, I didn't want to be a half-blood.

If you're watching this because you think you might be one, my advice is: Close this browser right now.

Stop looking. Stop wondering. If things don't add up just leave it be, try to lead a normal life.

Being a half-blood is dangerous. It's intense. Most of the time, it gets you caught up in blood feuds or killed in painful, nasty ways.

Hey, I know this seems weird. When my friends mentioned vlogs, I just stared at them. It's weird by definition. Someone across the globe who doesn't know you talking to you through a screen.

Then again it's not as weird as anything else that's happened. Seriously. You probably won't believe anything I tell you. This video will be pure fiction. But if you do, and you recognize yourself and your family life in these- you feel an odd sense of belonging- stop watching immediately. You might be one of us. And if they find you you're dead meat. Don't say I didn't warn you.

I just need to know that people out there know about us. That all the dead kids get some acknowledgement. Warn others against all of this. Don't come to the suburbs outside New York City, there's mass murder and conspiracy, with children being pawns in a game of royal chess.

My name is Percy Jackson. I'm sixteen, like long swims at the beach and my mom is the most wonderful person alive. Now things are much better but a few years ago she was still in a period of life currently known as 'The Sacrifice'. Mainly because she sacrificed a lot for me. Original, I know. I never realized this at the time but she was married to a guy called Gabe Ugliano for me. Gabe was a smelly, ugly and a lazy bum. He had no job, his only form of income was the occasional government payment. He spent most of his time belching, playing lousy card games with imbeciles and insulting me and my mom.

I didn't understand it. My mom is amazing, and Gabe was horrible. Lashing out, getting myself into problem after problem. Didn't help that I have trouble with learning. At least in the normal way. After my twelfth birthday, I went to Yancy Academy. It's a private school for troubled kids in upstate New York.

Was I a troubled kid?

Yeah. You could say that.

I could start at any point in my short miserable life to prove it… But things kind of went to a whole new level after a field trip I went on in the 6th Grade. Unfortunately my tendency to get myself into scraps, trouble and bad situations drew too much attention.

Both sides sent their dogs out. Okay, I'll rephrase that because I love Grover. Grover's my best friend. And I'll explain more about him later. Either way, both bad and good sides sent their own tests.

Charles Centar had started working at Yancy Academy earlier that year, around the same time as Mrs Dodds. Mr Centar was teaching History and English. Mrs Dodds Pre-Algebra.

To be honest, Mrs Dodds was a living nightmare and kinda freaked me out. Back then even more so. Everything didn't fall apart, though, until this field trip to a museums.

I should have known something was up when Mr Centar took us through a special display on European royalty. The long lineage passed down through centuries, fought over vigorously and still in question today, blah, blah, blah. What was really interesting was that Mr Centar chose to lead it, even though he has a nasty limp.

He looked at me particularly when he told us that the royals of the Greek line were hiding out from extreme revolutionists. I know it all sounds like some crazy conspiracy, I didn't take it seriously either, but it's- I'm not going there right now.

So, Grover and I are standing there listening to Mr Centar when this idiotic girl called Nancy shoved him. Grover's not the most coordinated. He tripped over security wires for the display, guards came running. While everyone was distracted, Mrs Dodds pulled me into a small royal photo slides display. It was cramped, dark and eerie. She's standing there, staring at me, eyes big beneath glasses that glint with the light from the changing slides projected onto the wall behind us.

'You've been giving us problems, honey,' she said, tugging on the stupid cuffs of her leather jacket. I swear to god, it's true that her eyes went from beyond mad to plain evil.

'We are not fools, Percy Jackson. It was only a matter of time before we found you. Confess your paternity and you will suffer less pain.'

All I could think at this point was, 'Paternity? What? My dad is a dead surfer.' But she must have noticed the confused expression on my face because her eyes bulged. I hadn't thought she could get creepier, but she sure as hell did. She demanded an answer, and when I kept silent, hissed words that made my blood run cold. I'll never forget what happened next. That woman takes her job seriously. If you're watching, props to you.

'Your time is up.' And after that one hissed statement she ripped off her jacket. Mr. Centar appeared out of nowhere and-

-YOU MUST HAVE NOTHING BUT WATER IN THAT HEAD OF YOURS SEAWEED BRAIN. When it flashes red, that means something! Percy!

-Crap! I'll be right back with the rest of this. Just wait. Gotta charge the battery.

Hey. I know I left you at a crucial moment. Can you tell by my sheepish smile that I'm sorry? As for the voice off camera, you'll get to meet her. I promise. I'm kind of stuck with her. And all of this was one of her ideas. But she insisted I start this off, because things didn't change till after me, and well- Anyway. That's all for later. When I left off, I was telling you about Mr. Centar butting in as my math teacher, Mrs. Dodds tried to kill me. I was kind of so stunned at that point I didn't notice at first but… Mr. Centar? He wasn't limping. My gimp History teacher ran into the room, fully functional, to save me, a 12 year old delinquent, from my regular horrible looking pre-algebra teacher.

I know.

She was lunging at me, filled with rage. Mr. Centar threw me a dagger. In a totally nonchalant way, I might add. I normally don't say things like 'nonchalant' but I've been told to improve my vocab lately.

Look, if you're a cop or some sort of secret service gu-uh. Person. Then I might just give you a tip here- take everything I've said so far completely like a story. A novel, even. Or a webseries. One for teens to take in between exam study breaks. Don't try to follow the trail and hints, find us, arrest me or anyone else. It won't do you any good. You'll get cut off like all the others. And then you'll be dead, or wishing you were dead. So stay home with your full loving family, or equally loving pet, and go about your normal crime defeating life. There's a lot of injustice, and illegality, in everything I tell you. And did I mention blood? Guts? Gore galore? You'll never be able to arrest or defend any of us. That is, me and the other kids mentioned here. So forget we exist, leave these videos alone, and stay home.

Okay, now that I've gotten that out of the way, let's get back to me, Mrs. Dodds, and the dagger.

I caught the thing, and dodged the senile woman. She spun back towards me.

'You're dead, honey!' She said that. I'm not making this up. I wish I was. She raced straight at me. Never realized she was so fast. Absolute terror ran through my body. With the blade in my hand, instincts kicked in and I swung my arm towards her. The knife embedded in her chest. Hissing with pain and anger, she fell backwards from the force. Lying there, dead-like, I almost checked for a pulse until I saw her chest moving. She was knocked out, cold. Mr. Centar grabbed me and drew me away. Before I could protest, we were walking down a corridor, further and further from the school group. Grover joined us.

'A Kindly One? Here?' his voice was shaking almost as much as my hands were, and I couldn't blame the guy. There was blood on me, and I was pale as a ghost. Had he seen it? What the hell was he talking about? I couldn't ask though, because Mr. Centar started talking.

'We would make matters worse by forcing him away now. He needs to mature.'

I was cut off yet again by someone speaking, but it was Grover this time. 'But he may not have the time. They know. I can't… I can't fail in my duties again.'

By this point I was starting to get nervous. And also to wonder a lot of things- what had Grover failed at? Why did Mr. Centar have a dagger? Were they all crazy, or was it just me who was completely insane?

You're wondering all this right now, aren't you?

'You haven't failed, Grover,' Mr. Centar's voice had gone all gentle and soothing, and I'm hoping my impression of it conveys that just as accurately, 'I should have recognized her. Let's just worry about keeping Percy alive. It's time we take him home, after a stop off somewhere special.'

Now, we'd been walking this entire time, Mr Centar's hand on my shoulder. But I was beginning to question whether I was being kidnapped or taken into protective custody. The talk of keeping me alive was freaking me out. I remember blurting out a quick, 'Sir?'

'Don't be upset about leaving Yancy, it's for the best. I mean, this isn't the right place for you. It was only a matter of time. Wait. What I'm trying to say… you're not normal, Percy. It's nothing to be-'

Out of all the times I'd been rejected or disappointed someone I remember the moment Mr. Centar said this hurt more than I'd ever anticipated. He'd spent so many hours helping me, making sure I learnt the content and that I was keeping up. He also defended me with other teachers, checked on my settlement in the boarding house… He seemed to think I was worth something, and I was starting to believe him. He'd given me that dagger, but he was kicking me out?

'Thanks…' was all I could say while tears stung at my eyes.

How I got to the Academy of Entities is still another story. One filled with taxi rides, crazy crabby old sisters, Grover eating paper, my mom losing my step-dad's car to a bikie and a really weird greeting by godson to my grandfather. Who happens to run the school. There's also true identities and- look, it's complicated. As is everything to do with this entire story.

My name is Percy Jackson, son of Bastian. Heir to the Greek Throne.

A very literal bastard.