My first story ever! Yay! Please review...

THE FIRST TIME I WROTE THIS CHAPTER, CHRISSY HAD TWO YOUNGER SIBLINGS NAMED SARAH AND RYAN. They do not exist anymore.

Disclaimer: I don't own Percy or Annabeth or anyone else in this story, except Chrissy and Mirabel


So, yeah. I'm being forced to tell you guys a story. It's not that interesting though, unless you're the kind of person who loves stories about people who are always about to die. Oh well.

My name is Chrissy Jackson, by the way. My name is short for Chrysanthemum. Yes, it is very long and very... original. My parents didn't want to name me after anyone, although my middle name is Sally, after my grandmother. My twin sister's name is Mirabel, so it's cool because we both have really weird names. Then I don't feel like I stand out too much. And we both have nicknames; Mira and Chrissy. Although Mirabel hated being called Mira.

I guess this story starts on our thirteenth birthday.


We were going to visit my grandparents on my dad's side. My grandparents on my mom's side live in California, so we don't really get to see them very often, only for holidays and such. It was drizzling outside, but it was raining harder earlier, and there was a long puddle right under the curb. I stood in the puddle, the water seeping into my Converse and socks. I loved rain.

"Chrissy! Get out of the puddle!" My mom scolded. "You are going to get the car and your grandparent's house soaked! Go inside and change your shoes. Also tell Dad to hurry up."

"Chrissy, can you get my book too?" asked Mirabel, who was standing on the sidewalk. "I left it in our room."

I rolled my eyes. "Fine." I ran inside our apartment building. So before I get to the part where I change my shoes and a bunch of other boring old things, I'd just like to clarify a few things up and give a little background details. We lived in a big apartment, it was two floors high, but it wasn't big that we all got our own rooms. Mirabel and I shared a room, but I thought it was horrible. Mirabel was a neat freak. My parents names are Percy and Annabeth Jackson, and my dad is a marine biologist and my mom is an architect. The grandparents I was going to visit for my birthday lived on the Upper East Side, and my grandfather is actually my dad's step-dad. I thought his real dad died. My mom has a step-mom and I thought her real mom died, too. I didn't really know.

I have a few cousins, from my father's real dad's side. Most of them live in New York, but a few live in San Francisco, so I only see them if they come here to visit. Also, they are all technically second cousins, since neither of my parents have siblings. My family is kind of strange, but not really. It's pretty weird because both of my parents had dyslexia and ADHD, so Mirabel and I inherited it. Is that even possible? I love to read though. Oh, and then there's that minor detail about the Mirabel and I. We look nothing alike. I have black hair and gray eyes, and she has blonde hair and green eyes.

Anyways, let's get back to the story.

I rode upstairs in the elevator. It was empty, as our apartment building isn't very big, so there aren't many people. I wish my shoes were dry, I thought. They are my favorite shoes. I got out of the elevator and walked down the hallway to our apartment. I knocked on the door, and Dad opened it.

"What do you want?" he asked. "I was just coming downstairs."

I walked past him, to get Mirabel's book and change my shoes. "Mom says you have to hurry up."

He smiled. "Of course she said that." Dad had to pack a basket full of food to bring to my grandparent's. Grandma Sally can't cook everything, but we knew she would probably try if we let her. "Why did you come up here?"

"I was standing in a puddle and now my shoes are all wet, so Mom made me came upstairs to change my shoes and socks," I explained.

Dad looked at my shoes, then back at my face, and then at my shoes again. "Are you sure you actually got your shoes wet?" Well, that confused me. I looked down, and my shoes were perfectly dry. How? There wasn't even a trail of water coming into the house. I guess I should have realized that they didn't squeak when I walked. But I knew my shoes were sopping wet when I got on the elevator.

"Yes, I'm sure," I said after a moment.

"Chrissy, why don't you take the basket downstairs? Send your mom up here too," he said. I could see the worry that he tried to hide in his eyes. I agreed and grabbed Mirabel's book, and then took the elevator back downstairs.

I could prove my shoes were wet; the elevator floor had a small puddle.


So after we got downstairs, I gave the book to Mirabel and Mom put the basket in the trunk. "Mom, you have to go upstairs. Dad needs you or something," I told her.

"Okay, get in the car." She went inside. Mirabel looked at me through the window, and she rolled it down.

"Chrissy!" she exclaimed. "Go follow her! Go tell us what they're talking about!" I nodded. We have devious minds.


Mom took the elevator, so I sprinted up the stairs. We only lived on the twentieth floor. I really hope you noticed the sarcasm in the last sentence, because, trust me, I hate sprinting. I made sure to wait in the stairwell, until I was sure Mom was in our apartment. I heard the door shut, so I crept out of the stairwell, past the yellow-gold walls, and to the door of the apartment. I pressed my ear to the door. I knew my parents would be talking in the living room, and the living room is the main room. My dad paces around the living room when he's stressed out.

"Chrissy said you needed me," Mom said.

"Her shoes. They were wet, right?" he asked

"Of course they were," Mom told him. "She wouldn't have come up here if they weren't."

"When she got into the apartment, they were totally dry. She knew her shoes were wet."

"Oh no." I heard my mom pace around the room. "Not again. Not again..."

"Annabeth, we're going to have to tell the girls eventually."

"Have you noticed anything with Mirabel lately, other than that one time at the aquarium?"

"Yes, I haven't been able to tell you yet. They keep interrupting us whenever I was going to tell you. Mirabel made the pipes explode at the grocery store. I was so lucky, they didn't accuse us for it at all."

What was he talking about, you ask? Well dear reader, at the time, I had absolutely no idea what they were talking about. And it wouldn't be right to spoil the story for you.

"Let's go now," Mom said. I sprinted away to the elevator and got inside as fast as I could. By the time I got in, the apartment door hadn't even opened yet.

See my escape plan was simple. I would get in the elevator and go downstairs, then my parents would be forced to wait for it to come back up. Meanwhile, I could get back to the car safely without getting busted.

As soon as I got in the car, Mirabel bombarded me with questions. I glared at her. "They're coming any minute, so I'll tell you later." Soon my parents got in the car and we were off to my grandparent's house.