Authors Note: Hi. For you new viewers, My name is PopcornNinja. If you want, You may call me Em. I. LOVE WRITING. Yay! Moving on. This happens after The Last Olympian. Before The Lost Hero. I love the other characters to death but it gets confusing. You want something in the story, please PM me. I will do my best. You know, Gerita, Usuk, I can make it happen. I AM HERE FOR YOU BROS! BTW as I upload this, it is pouring rain outside. Yay? BTW again I have no beef with Americans at all. I'm sorry if this offends you. With Pasta~ PopcornNinja.
To start, I should warn you. My life is messed up.
Okay, moving on.
My name is Melanie Beilschmidt . Although, I prefer being called Mel. I live in Manitoba, Canada. Before I go on, I would also like to inform you that I am of Prussian descent. Pretty rare, huh? Best. Heritage. Ever. C'mon! It (was) one of the best and most successful nations ever! Uh, sorry I got carried away. Anyway, moving on. I am a foster child. And I am not on the best of terms with my parents. That is, my foster parents.
My parents died when I was a child. I was shipped to a place called 'St. Susan's Orphanage'. Ghastly place. The woman who ran it was hardly a saint. Never fed us, clothed us, heck, loved us. We just paid her bills. I knew this one girl who got so sick that she almost died. The woman didn't even bring her to a hospital. A few of the older orphans looked after her. I remember standing there, watching her frail body rack with coughs. It was one of the worst periods of my life.
When I turned 9, I was taken into foster care. Honestly, I was excited. My 9 year old mind was happy to leave the orphanage. Although, I had never considered that anyone could be worse than St. Susan's. I was wrong.
One of the things that make me unusual is my appearance. I have silver hair and violet eyes. Strange combination right? I know. I get teased constantly for it. I like it, I mean, I look awesome! But, my 'family' doesn't think the same way. My foster parents are violent people. When intoxicated, they would throw things and yell at me, calling me a 'freak of nature' and 'demon child'. I don't know why. I'm not that strange….. right?
Anyways, they sent me to a boarding school. In America. Oh, America, home of the free and stupid Americans. I'm not saying all Americans are dumb, but everyone at Calhun Acadamy make way too many assumptions. I have been asked if I have a Polar Bear so many times…
The only thing worth all the ridicule is my best friend Grover. He is a grade older than me, but he's in all my classes. He has curly brown hair and brown eyes. He's really nice. He protects me all the time. He also has this weird disease that makes it so he can't walk very well. Best friends. The cripple and the freak. How Ironic. But I'm still awesome.
Moving on, We're currently halfway through the year. I don't like it here, but my parents don't want me back and Grover's the only friend I've ever had. But let's hold off on me for a little while. Let's start off where I am currently, In class, waiting for the bell to ring.