Seeing as this was the winner of my poll with a grand total of *drum roll* 1 vote, I figured I'd go back and look at this, then realized it needed to be completely reworked, so here's the second version, hopefully a little more accurate.

Chapter 1:

They tell you that demigods have one godly and one mortal parent. Some mortal parents cherish their children. Mine...Not so much. On my first birthday, I was found on the front porch of an orphanage in northern Texas with a note clipped to the pet carrier someone had placed me in. The note read, "Today's the brat's birthday. Do with it what you will." But my mortal parent had picked the wrong orphanage if they were hoping I'd get mistreated and abused. The orphanage was run by a rich, Christian couple who took me in and raised me with the help of the older children at the orphanage. It was one such day when my life changed forever.

"We've got a new kid coming in today, Sarah." Rose, a college girl of eighteen who had returned after her adoption to work here had pulled me aside. "Since some of the other kids are sick with the flu, I need you to take charge today. Can you do that?" I remember thinking how that was a large burden to saddle an eleven-year-old with and that she was interrupting my kickball game, but I didn't say any of that. I simply nodded and asked the name of the kid who was going to show up. "Her name's Michaela. Her mom just died, so try to be nice and don't mention it." I nodded and grinned, the feature she told me to cherish above all else.

"Aren't I always nice? Take care of your sick kids, I got this covered." She rolled her eyes and stood, ruffling my hair in the process.

"Of course you do. You could run this place if you wanted." Rose stood and smiled. "Luckily, you're still too young for that to happen just yet. Now, the kid will be here at five. You'll greet her, give her the basic tour, then eat dinner with her in the cafeteria. Beatrice made meatloaf. Any questions?"

"Yeah, just one: Why me?"

"You're a good kid, Sahara." God, I hated that nickname. "I think that's all the reason I need." And with that, she left, leaving me to both sort my tangled thoughts and get ready to show a new kid around.

The orphanage was an okay place. It was a one story, brown building with a kitchen, small library, multi-media room, two dorms, (One for boys, one for girls) and two communal bathrooms with showers. (Same reasons.) There were two entrances, a back fire exit and the front: A pair of double doors that made the place look grander than it actually was. In truth, it had a homey feel to it that I liked.

It was by the double doors that I was waiting when a white minivan pulled up. Quickly deposited from the van was a short girl with fly-away red hair, and a single suitcase. The girl was short and lithe, with a kind of fairy look to her. She seemed rather nervous as the van roared away, trailing a cloud of dust like in the comics they post in the newspaper on Sundays, and she looked at me, waiting by the door with a bored expression. I quickly let it melt into a friendly smile and hurried over to grab her suitcase.

"Hi!" Let it not be said I was a terrible actress. The kid was nice and all, but a social butterfly I was not. A seat had been permanently been labeled 'Property of Sarah Jones' by the end of my first year after I learned to read. You think I'm kidding? Fifth birthday, they literally put a plaque with those exact words on said chair. Anyway, back to the present. "My name's Sarah Jones! I'm supposed to show you around. What's your name?"

"H-Holly." She whispered, brushing a loose strand of red hair behind her pointed ear.

"Oh, I get it!" I grinned at her and shifted the suitcase absentmindedly. "Because your hair is as red as a holly berry! There's a picture in one of the botany books in the library."

"Y-yes." She whispered again.

"You don't have to be shy." I made my voice serious and she looked surprised. Considering she looked to be about thirteen, I bet she was wondering how a squirt of a kid could sound so serious. "I mean, it's fine if you are, of course. Not like I could stop you if I wanted. But I'm here to help. Maybe we could even be friends." She smiled and it was almost as quiet as her words.

"I'd like that."

"Do you want to come inside? I'd love to show you around." Holly nodded again and I turned, walking next to her as I pulled her suitcase inside and firmly shut the double doors.

"My favorite place in the whole orphanage is the library." After we dropped Holly's suitcase off in the dormitory, I decided to show her where I spent most of my anti-social hours.

"H-how did you come to be in the orphanage in the first place?" I'll be the first to admit: That Holly kid had guts. That was usually one of the more taboo questions when living in an orphanage.

"One of my parents didn't care for me, so they dumped me here on the front doorstep. No name, no reason, just a note telling the owners that that day was my birthday." I took a shaky breath in and exhaled through my nose. "I guess, since then, I've acknowledged the fact no one really wants me." Holly looked like she was about to say something, opened her mouth and everything, when we arrived at the metal door that had a sign taped to it that said "Library". I turned to grin at her before grabbing the handle and twisting it open. "Take a look. Tell me what you think." She did as I said and backed away, cupping a hand over her mouth as if she was going to be sick. "Are you okay? What's-?" To see what had made her so upset, I took a look inside as well. Let me just tell you now: When someone looks like they're going to be sick, don't do whatever they were doing that made them look that way.

Inside the library, the shelves were knocked over. It had to have happened recently, papers were still fluttering down. But the way the bookshelves had fallen was odd. It looked like a bomb had gone off. They all fell away from a clear, center point. And in that point lay the body of the librarian. Except it wasn't the kind old lady I knew who never got mad at me for late books. No, her face was stretched into a grim mask of horror and her fingers had obviously been trying to reach her throat, which was bloody. (Toobloodyohgodwhathappened?) I was about to scream. I mean, you watch shows like Bones and stuff and you think you can handle the blood, but you see it in real life...

Holly gripped my arm and spun me around, face serious. And when she spoke, her voice had lost the timid tremble.

"We need to go, now."

So as I said above, I'd previously set up a poll to see which story I should do next. Only one person voted. Sense my disappointment. So here's Chapter 1 of The Forgotten. Little bloody, I know. T-Rated for a reason.

Any questions? Comments? Concerns? You know the drill! Just Read, Review, and Repeat with the next chapter. See you then!

Signing off, as always,

EOM