Jessica Hayes, Percy Jackson, and the Olympians:
The Lost Goddess
By Jessica Hayes
Chapter 1- My One True Love
My life ended when I reached fifth grade. That's when I found my one true love. Percy Jackson. I was OBSESSED. He was ALL I thought about. Yeah, he's a fictional character, but they are the best books EVER. (Can you tell that I like to capitalize things?) He was everything. Every other sentence I said was about Percy Jackson. Blah, blah, Percy Jackson. Blah, blah, Percy Jackson. I could just imagine running my hand through his unruly black hair while looking into his deep green eyes. Little did I know, I would not be doing that in my lifetime.
I'm Jessie Hayes, A.K.A. the bookworm. My one joy in life is reading. I've read every book known to man. But the books that I can't live without are the Percy Jackson series. Ever since I've read them, all I do is daydream about what would happen if they came to life, if I was one of the characters. I would be a daughter of Athena, even though I was NOT wise at all.
My mom and I live alone in a small but very roomy apartment in Manhattan. I've always believed that if I search Upper East Side so many times, that I'd find Percy's apartment. I've never met my dad, though I feel like I know him, or at least have seen him before. My Mom says that my father was a very brave man who was lost at sea while in war. She never likes to talk about him that much though. It's always been a touchy subject and whenever I mention it, she has the same old speech prepared, "He was the bravest man that I have ever known. You have his eyes you know."
I have thick brown hair that takes all day to dry and mesmerizing, deep green eyes; though they change shades of green depending on what mood I'm in, light when I'm happy, dark when I am sad, and a mix when I'm nervous.
"Jessie!" yelled my very pudgy and short math teacher, Mr. Nichols. "Would you like to share with the class what you were thinking about?"
Mr. Nichols was the worst math teacher in the history of math teachers. Whenever he caught someone daydreaming in his class, he'd make them come up and embarrass themselves by sharing what they were thinking of. Unfortunately, I was called up a lot.
He wears big plaid suspenders with a belt (which I never understood), a long, plaid, silky jacket (which makes the suspenders look even worse), and every once in a while a large top hat that makes him look like Mr. Popper from "Mr. Popper's Penguins." (And that's an insult to Mr. Popper.)
"Is this one of your fantasies of what would happen if your books came to life again?" he asked in his big booming voice.
"Yeah, it is," I replied in a squeaky voice. "This time it's about the Percy Jackson Series."
The entire class perked up from there gloomy moods. They seemed to think my stories are much more interesting then positive and negative integers.
"Well," I started. "It started out as a normal day, then all of the sudden, our teacher turned into one of the furies! With sharp talons and wings that stretched from opposite walls."
Once I finished those two sentences, I looked at the class. Instead of being amused, they all looked like they were going to pee their pants.
"Wha-" I started. Then I looked over at Mr. Nichols to see what was wrong. But where he was standing a minute ago, exactly as I had imagined, was a hunching, scowling fury.
