The Immortal Battle
I climbed up onto my bed and stared at the ceiling. The Hermes house was silent and empty. Except for me.
I was being punished. I heard screams and laughter as the rest of Camp Half-Blood played capture the flag. I bit my lip.
It's not my fault that Sara is trying to kill me. Why? Because last year I accidentally completed her quest. She was supposed to defeat the great bull-man, whatever his name is, but she lost control of it and it charged out of the forest into camp. It just so happened that I was walking to breakfast that very moment and so I took out my cell phone-that-changes-into-sword and chopped big boy's head off. Not a pretty sight.
And Sara was trying to redeem herself after some big mistake she made before I came to Camp Half-Blood and so that didn't happen. Instead, she got in trouble with Chiron. Because it was her responsibility to control the beast. And so now, she hates me. Yeah, life is unfair, isn't it?
And at lunch today, she flung spaghetti at me, and I flung back. But Chiron saw me fling, not her. And so I'm out of camp activities until tomorrow.
I sighed. At least today we don't have campfire, or else (guess what?) I'd have to miss that. I got off my bed and walked to Chiron's office. I swung open the door. Chiron looked at me.
"Yes?" he asked.
"You know that it's not my fault,"
"It's not your fault that what?"
"That Sara hates me. That she and her friends throw food at me and Annabeth and Lily. That she hopes I die. And you know I didn't start the food fight at lunch,"
"True, but I have to keep you two away from each other, and if I punish her, she will only get angrier at you. That would make our situation worse, and besides, you're going on a quest soon. In a morsel, morsel means little bit, Julia, you will be consult the Oracle,"
I tried not to shudder. The Oracle freaks me out.
Just then, Dionysus ran in. I scowled. Him.
"Sara, she released a beast past the border, its attacking camp!"
I smirked at Chiron and crossed my arms.
"I rest my case," I said.
He rolled his eyes and ran out the door, calling out,
"Come, Julia, we have to help,"
I shrugged at Big D., who was staring at a bottle of wine. When he turned around to look at me, the door was still swinging and I was long gone.
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