Ismene has always lived a semi-normal, semi-questionable life up until May when everything gets weird. She gets kicked out of school because of odd dreams and a monster chases her to the path of Camp Half-Blood. Once she reaches camp unwillingly, she is soon sent on a journey to find what lies deep beneath her blood: Destiny and Family. It is soon revealed to her that she is an important part of a prophecy as old as the Titans, and that her blood is so powerful and dangerous that the fate of the world is in the balance of her blood.

Chapter 1: I Take a Dip in the East River

My name is Ismene Blowfis.

I'm twelve years old. Until a few weeks ago, I was a student at Williams School of Intelligence Assistance, a private school for kids that had average or above average grades but had trouble up keeping them because of disabilities. I wish I didn't need a special school like this, because even though my parents didn't tell me, I knew that the school costs a lot. And don't even let me forget the fact that we're all living off of teacher's salary and odd job money. I've tried helping with the expenses before but they don't let me outside by myself often. I understand New York is a dangerous place, but if I had some practice I think I'd get better at navigating.

Anyway, it was a hot day for late May, so hot that I brought out the small plastic pool I bought the last summer at the dollar store. I placed it on our small terrace and went between the kitchen and pool a few times with a watering can until it was full enough. Then I mixed in some extra ice. Scooting the chair closer to the small pool, I allowed myself to stress out over the meeting that was to come.

You see, the school was suspending me from school for the rest of the year and are debating whether to invite me back next year or not. After comparing this year's end of test grades with last years, they decided they need to evaluate my promise to go to this school with the intention of keeping up my grades under guidance of "specialized" and "trained" teachers that are "good" at teaching kids with disabilities.

I couldn't help that those dreams were getting worse. Getting so bad to the point when I woke up with a start I couldn't fall back asleep for hours! And if lack of sleep wasn't enough, I was groggy all the time, was always zoning out, and was scared all the time because these dreams could get freaky. The dreams that were all scary creatures calling my name, a dark pit screaming for my blood, and unbearable loss were probably the worst of the horrifying bunch.

There were pleasant dreams, sure, the one that showed up every once in a while that I liked was a small island with white sand and clear, blue waters. A small modern-like beach house on its shores and a dock with a motorboat. A happy couple holding hands as they walked up and down the beach repeatedly all day long, just talking. The pretty woman would hold her stomach and look up lovingly at her partner. Now, I've never really been one for romances, but they were so cute together. They went together like peanut butter and jelly, all perfect for each other and what not. It made me feel all warm and happy when I had that dream, just seeing them together.

Then there was the best of them all. I hate to admit it, but in this dream, life seemed a lot better. My parents were young, and didn't look or seem anything like Paul and Sally. My dad had black hair, green eyes the color of the sea, and his eyes crinkled when he smiled. Then there was my mom (who happened to be a knockout) who had long, curly blond hair, grey eyes that reminded me of clouds, and a forever thoughtful expression. And I knew that my dream parents were just small composites of myself the my subconscious had made up to make sense of my situation: curly blonde hair, 60% of my attitude, and my left eye that was grey was from my dream mom's side and my inability to pay attention for long amounts of time, my right eye that was see green, and how my eyes crinkled when I smiled was from my dad's side.

I'm fully aware that it is horrible and inconsiderate of me to enjoy this dream, especially since I was perfectly fine my whole life with Paul and Sally, but there was always something missing. Of course they brought me up on their own, but I knew I wasn't theirs, I just knew. But whenever I brought it up, asked who my parents were, they didn't say anything and ignored the question. By now I've learned to save my breath and not even ask.

I looked down at the water while my feet rhytmatically stirred the water. Soon it almost looked as though the water was chasing my feet. I laughed at the thought.

"Chop chop, Ismene! We've got to get a role on! I don't want to miss your appointment!" Sally called as she came through the apartment's door.

"Okay!" I said bringing my prune-y feet over the edge of the pool and into flip flops. I jogged across the length of our small apartment to the door and waited for Sally to get out of her work uniform. Soon she came to the door with her purse, blouse, and nice dress pants. As she slipped on flats that were laid out at the door she managed two hoop earrings through her ears. She gave me a brisk smile, opened the door, and led me down the stairs to the street where we hailed a cab.

Soon we reached William, which was nothing short of prestigious looking. A graceful brick structure that wasn't very large, but still looked in place on the vintage boulevard. Cream colored canopies that shaded windows and entry ways were embroidered with the rust colored symbol of the school. Green plants were scattered in clay pots all around the property, playing up the 'we're-so-rich-we-can-afford-gardeners' look.

We paid the taxi driver and walked up to the front of the fancy building. Sally leaned in to the entrance speaker and looked up at the camera in the corner of the patio. She stated her name and appointment time and the door gave a little buzz and click and we let ourselves in. The entrance hall was paneled with dark wood and the desk was lavishly carved. The desk lady nodded and told us second floor room 5.

Once we were up the stairs, down the hall, and into the office where we took our seats. I sat on a long bench behind a glass screen that divided the office and parlor while Sally went into the office to have the conversation with the Student Advisor. They started their conversation so I pressed my ear against the glass, hoping to get the details Sally most definitely won't tell me.

"Your," he cleared his throat, "Daughter, has failed to up keep her grades and I –"

"Excuse me, sir. But you do understand that my daughter has dyslexia and ADHD, and, well, to my knowledge, this school is supposed to work around that and give her the help she needs, correct?"

"Yes, and we have. But we deal with mental disabilities." He said implying the rest.

"Mental disabilities? She has mental disabilities, that's why you allowed her in." Sally said sounding irritated.

"Dyslexia and ADHD, that is what allowed her in, but you failed to mention –"He calmed himself down a little. "Let me put it this way: you daughter had two different colored, eyes correct?"

"Well, yes, but –"

"That is called Heterochromia Iridum, which can affect sight. You failed to mention this enrolling your daughter, and since that could very well tamper with her Dyslexia, we cannot help her. That's apart of a physical disability."

"You have got to be kidding me!" Sally said angrily, shifting her weight in the chair to sit straighter. "She can't help that her eyes are two different colors! And the doctors never mentioned a thing about this … disease! She's perfectly fine and healthy!"

"I'm sorry to tell you this Mrs. Blowfis, but this disease is implied with two colors of the eyes. Your daughter will not be invited back here next year."

"Well I'm fine with that! This school is horrible! Discriminating against Ismene, what is wrong with you people?"

Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no.

I'm not going to be invited back next year because I have some lame, "implied" disease in my eyes? Great, life's getting better!

Sally stormed through the door, slamming it behind her. She took a deep breath and gave me a weak smile.

"Let's go home, okay? I'll make you blue chocolate cookies." My heart went limp at the thought. Sally only made blue chocolate cookies when things were bad. One time, when she was making these cookies when one of the family friends had died (I didn't know them but they must have been important) I saw a few tears escape her eyes and fall on her apron. I always had a nostalgic feeling when I ate one of those cookies, they seemed like they weren't for me or the place; they were for another kid on a happier day.

"Um, I think I'm going to go to the park. Do you mind if I go there for a little bit?" I asked avoiding an encounter with the cookies of depression.

"Well, I guess it's alright, as long as your home before dark. Do you have cab money?" I told her that I did have some money in my pocket. She nodded and took a cab home, with one last look at me from the back window.

I walked down the semi busy sidewalks until I reached the large Brooklyn Bridge, in all its magnificent beauty. The Brooklyn Bridge was different then most rural town bridges. Instead of having two separate walkways on the outside of the bridge, Brooklyn's had a big one right down the middle. With extra cables and grids for safety measures. The bridge walkway was oddly empty tonight, and the cars on the bridge were scarce, too. Weird.

I was halfway across the bridge when large, repeating groans came from the bridge. I turned around to see a dog, a dog that was the size of a garbage truck. Shocked and in awe I stared at the large dog. The dog was slowly taking its time walking down the walk, but you could tell it was on a mission.

I decided to ignore the mutant dog and just keep walking, but when I glanced back it was going a little faster this time.

The hound was approaching even faster now and I only had enough time to back myself against the cables of the bridge. Doing an emotional 180, the dog ran at me biting where I had once been leaving a human sized hole in the shredded cables. He bit for me again but I rolled to the side again, over to the human hole where I had been before.

Unfortunately, I had rolled a bit too far and I was now in the small, gridded area that was there for "safety purposes". The hound easily found me out and brought its paw down on me. I barrel rolled over to the side, but only far enough that the massive paw only missed me by a few inches. The dog was closing in to such a point that if I didn't take action fast, I knew that this would be the end. I did what was instinct:

I dove through the bent and broken mess of wire toward the water.

(I now understand that was the most stupid instinct to ever get out of life, but it was a stupid instinct that happened to save my life though.)

On my way down, a bunch of facts went through my mind, and the one that stuck was the one about hitting water from a few stories up is like hitting solid concrete. I was waiting for my life to flash before my eyes or something, at least one of those cheesy movie-like tidbits as I fell from the bridge, but it never came. As I awaited impact from the water I could only think the phrase, 'Why?' over and over again.

Then it hit me.

Not like a freight train or concrete, or anything of the sort. It was kind of like jumping on a bed and landing awkwardly stomach first. The water absorbed me and I sank further into the murky water. I didn't feel as though I was running out of air, though. I felt perfectly fine.

As I sank further into the polluted water, I noticed a face appearing in the water. She looked as though she was a thinly spread hologram over a collection of small, white bubbles.

Do not go home after the docks. You must reach what is yours. Tell a driver to take you to Delphi Strawberry Service; from there your destiny will be revealed.

What is happening? Does hallucination from pollution happen this suddenly? I need to get out of this water.

I kicked at the image and swam up to the service, only to glance down once to see that the woman had evaporated into a small streamline of bubbles. Once I had reached the surface, I looked in the distance looking for the docks. I thought that even though my hallucination was stupid for suggesting I not go home after this, but I found her idea of swimming to a dock a nice idea. Soon I found a big looking port with boats of every shape, size, and color; I guessed that it was South Street Seaport, the dock I sometimes saw on the news. I swam towards the port and got there in a half hour (I know, it's a long time to swim for but I'm kind of desperate)

I let myself sink a little bit so just my nose and up was out of the water so I wouldn't be seen by dock patrol. I got close to a steel and metal branch of the dock and climbed up the slimy side. When I was on knees and elbows on the dock I reached my self to ring out my curly hair but when my fingers touched my hair…it wasn't wet. Actually, none of me was sopping wet like you'd think. I was dry.

My heart raced in my chest as I hopped out of position and ran through the confusing alleys of storage buildings. Soon I reached an iron gate that was pretty tall. Looking around and not seeing anyone, I took a running start and attached myself to the gate. I climbed up its slightly rusted sides and fell down on sidewalk. The street wasn't very busy, but luckily there was a cab coming my way. Sticking out my hand and waving to get his attention. I felt my pockets: there was some money in there, maybe enough to get me home.

As soon as I slid into the cab and shut the door, all the locks clicked down. I cautiously tugged on the handle and when it didn't give purchase, my insides got jumpy.

"Delphi Strawberry Service, correct?" the driver looked into the mirror. The driver didn't look like the scruffy middle aged majority of drivers, he was young with black hair, he was probably once handsome, but his face was scarred by small scratches scattered on his face. I couldn't see his eyes though, because they were hidden behind tortuous shell sunglasses. Which was odd since the sun was about to set in an hour or so.

I told him, no he got it wrong (and him guessing my hallucinations answer scared me) and my address, the real place I wanted to be right now.

"So Delphi Strawberry Service it is."

"Uh, no, sir, I don't think you heard me. I said –" He raised a hand to silence me.

"Trust me, I know what you said."

My heart was going faster in my chest and I looked frantically out the windows. I tried pounding on the windows, waving, doing anything to get someone's attention, but the people on the street avoided eye contact. It was like they couldn't see me.

I can't believe I'm admitting this, but I'm hoping that I fell asleep in my lawn chair on the terrace and I'm just having a terrible nightmare. I closed my eyes and slumped against the seat, becoming nauseous.

"You alright back there?" the driver asked looking concerned.

"What do you think?" I growled, holding my stomach.

He didn't reply.

We sat in silence as he forcefully drove me to who knows where. All I knew is that we were not in the city anymore. What was my tip off? Instead of seeing cars, metal, and trash, I saw cows, barns, and tractors. He hit the brake and stopped at the base of a hill.

"Here we are! Half-Blood Hill, Farm Road 3.141!" the driver said cheerfully. I grumbled and unlatched the now unlocked door. I was not going to pay this guy. Maybe if I ask nicely, the people who own the land will let me stay a little while and use their phone.

Without bothering to pay him, I ran up the hill up to an old looking pine-tree with a… dragon wrapped around its base.

I'm going insane. I'm losing my mind.

Note to self: Never, ever swim in the East River again.

I rushed down the hill and scouted out where a lot of people were gathered. A big bon fire that glowed massively was in the center of a massive crowd. It didn't really seem like a 'Strawberry Service' but more of a camp. I saw a reserved looking are: possibly for adults or superiors? Probably.

I approached the bon fire, and no one seemed to notice me. They were singing camp songs about what mythical monster ate what other monster, which was incredibly weird. But, as I have mentioned before, I'm desperate.

I snuck around the dark edges of the camp fire toward where the oldest looking people were. The oldest was probably a bearded man with a wise expression. He was very tall because he was sitting on a horse? No, he was the horse. All human guy down to the waist, than he was all horse in the back. My mouth gaped a little and my eyes bulged out. I backed back into the shadows again and ran toward what I couldn't make out in the glare of the fire: cabins.

Most of the cabins had a lamp or some light source outside the door, kind of like a porch light to see your way through the darkness. There were three cabins that didn't have as bright of lights up: one that glowed like the moon, one that was solid silver, and a beach-looking bungalow. They were all strange looking cabins, though the beach bungalow wasn't as spectacular as the others, it looked even less used then the others. While their lights were standard-ly bright, the bungalow had a light that was shining quite low, not bright at all. I thought that it was perfect to keep out of people's sight so I decided I'd hide in there until daylight. If I was lucky, I could skirt around the camp grounds, get over to a normal neighbor, and ask for help. I know that Sally and Paul will freak, but I think I'll have them on my side when I explain that my mental and physical disabilities aren't just limited to my eyes.

My hand reached out and I pulled on the sand encrusted handle and let myself in. It smelled and looked like nobody had been in here for ages. Dust and cobwebs had dominance over everything. But instead of smelling musty air, it smelled strongly of sea salt, though a closed off room like this shouldn't. On a podium a statue of a Greek god (I'm pretty sure its Poseidon) there was a photo propped against it. I picked up the old photo with care and wiped off the thin layer of dust that was obscuring the actual picture.

After my first glance at the photo, my heart just about stopped in my chest.

The photo was of my dream parents, only a smidgen younger looking. Tousled black hair, smiling green eyes, and a tanned arm wrapped around the shoulders of a curly haired blonde with grey eyes and a big grin. They were young and enjoying life as it seemed. I could see a few people in the back round making faces or some people waving. If you looked close enough you could see a volleyball pit in the back round.

I'm going crazy. I'm going absolutely nuts.

I walked over to the only bed that looked even slightly used within this century. The worn out green blanket was folded and kicked around like somebody got up with the idea of fixing it later, but they never came back. It was the least dusty looking one so I opted for sleeping on this bed for the night. I pulled the covers up to my chin and snuggled underneath savoring the feeling of soft wool. The sheets smelled like salt water like the rest of the room, but there was a small hint of something too. Maybe vanilla? Brown sugar? I don't know, but it smelled like something from a confectionary.

My eyes drooped close as I drifted to unconsciousness.

My last thought was:

I like it here.