I don't recommend a visit to the dentist if:

a) You're a demigod.

b) You dislike fighting demon orthodontists.

Or,

c) You can't drive exploding Porsches.

Consequently, the dental office in downtown Brooklyn had the poor fortune of having me as a client, and I fit that description to a T.

My mother, Belle McCarthy, dragged me-quite literally-out of bed, into the car, and into the building one typical morning (well, as typical as it can be when a young mother has to carry her whining preteen into the dentist's,) in late June, just before school let out. My mom sat in the waiting room and left me to the mercy of the teeth-yankers (as I so cleverly nicknamed them).

I didn't think I even needed to go to the dentist, it wasn't really much of a big deal; I simply had a cavity from eating too much candy-I had an incurable sweet tooth- thus, I was thrown into one of those dentist chairs in a little cubicle with Dr. Merrie, whom, may I say, was not very merry in the least. I studied her, thinking. She had stark white hair, a shriveled, bony body with a waist about the width of my pinky, and always wore the same ugly paisley patterned dress underneath her dentist's gown. She stared at me with those dark, creepy eyes as if I were a mutant, and spoke in a croaking voice that never ceased to make my skin crawl. One glance from those eyes nearly made me cower. I turned away.

Being an unlucky D+ average child born with both ADHD and dyslexia, I fidgeted in my seat while trying to read the posters on Dr. Merrie's cabinets, but the words kept floating off the pages. It took all of my will to not punch a hole through her cubicle wall in frustration.

Dr. Merrie noticed my distress and looked up from a folder she was writing in. I assumed it was my dental portfolio, but I couldn't read the label due to the drifting words. She gazed at me curiously with those unnerving irises of hers, which naturally shouldn't have been that dark.

Contacts? I thought to myself, not imagining any other way how one's eyes could've been darker than the bottom of an abyss in the sea. Though why she would want contacts the colors of midnight, I have no clue.

I dismissed those pointless thoughts as she rasped to me, "One moment, dearie, I am nearly complete with my… observations of you."

Observations? I peeked at her, and then rolled my eyes. Crazy old hag, I decided.

She peered at me once more, before returning to her pad. I squinted at the label on the folder, but the best I could figure was a load of useless mumbo jumbo that read something like this:

50 YWAS OT OKCO EMDIGDOS

I sighed and gave up.

That moment, Dr. Merrie's gnarled hands folded in her lap on top of the mystery folder that I was attempting to read, her disturbing eyes turning to me. She scrutinized me with a careful eye, strangely making me fear for my safety.

What's there to fear? I chided myself. She's only an old woman.

However, as Dr. Merrie continued to study me, I felt myself gripping the arm rests of my seat with apprehension. The lady chuckled, a deep, throaty sound that both surprised me and caused me to clutch the chair's artificial leather harder still. "You're a clever one, aren't you, godling?"

I swallowed hard, unsure of what she was talking about. "You know," Dr. Merrie continued, "most do not recognize me right away, but I see you've noticed one of my most, ah, distinguishing features." She blinked, and when she opened her eyes again, I nearly choked with my sudden intake of breath.

Because there was nothing there.

The sockets where those dark eyeballs once sat were completely empty, devoid of anything even remotely resembling an eye.

I scrambled to stand, then bravely stood and… turned and hid behind the chair. "Wh-Who are you?" I managed to squeak, peering out from behind the armrest.

Dr. Merrie looked puzzled, her ugly lips compressed in a tight frown. "Who am I?" She seemed to pout. "And I thought you knew. I am Lamia! Queen of Libya, lover of Zeus." She scowled slightly, as if deep in thought. "At least, I was…" Even so, she raised her arms as if she were the world's most superior and powerful old lady.

I stared at her dumbly, trying to process what I'd heard. Her name sounded vaguely familiar… Heard of it in school, maybe? And yet, either she was crazy, or I was. Lover of Zeus? I wasn't sure I'd heard right. I shook my head to clear my confusion.

She cracked a horrible smile, which disturbed me, because it was as if I had just begun to see things more clearly… Her teeth and lips were stained crimson, her face misshapen and terrible to look at. I risked a glance down, and what I saw made me recoil as if I'd been punched directly in the gut. Her lower half was serpentine, like she was half snake.

I began to back against the wall, not comprehending what my eyes were showing me. I grasped for anything on the wall, something that I could just rip off its hinges and give this creepy woman a good smack on the head and maybe knock out a few teeth, so she could feel what it's like when she's sitting in the chair, being operated on by some demon dentists like herself.

My hand touched something unmistakably plastic, and, hoping I was gripping some sort of threatening plastic tool, I ingeniously threw whatever I had at her head without aiming. My heart sank as I looked up and saw a cheap toothbrush sail over her shoulder.

Lamia shook her head, making a tsk tsk noise. "Now, none of that, dear." She approached slowly, empty eye sockets seemingly watching me as her snake-like lower body inching across the floor with a curious sandpapery sound.

I racked my brain, trying to remember the story of Lamia from history class. She was once beautiful, even attracted Lord Zeus…

Lamia edged closer, perhaps being guided by all of her other senses but her eyes.

They had many children… Hera was outraged…

Lamia was standing before the chair now; she only had to inch around it…

A curse… Lamia ate her children because Hera cursed her… Eats various kids…

My heart seemed to be in my throat. I could feel my pulse racing. I looked around for something, anything. Naturally, I did the only thing a child ever does. I licked my lips, and shouted weakly, "MOM!"

Lamia grinned wolfishly, smacking her lips as if she were anticipating eating my face, which, she probably was. "Your mother won't come," she cooed, "she'd be too late, anyway. There'll be nothing left of you but a delicious pile of bones I can snack on!"

"Gee, thanks," I murmured, but crazed cannibal woman didn't hear. I knew she was right, though. My mom wouldn't hear me. We were separated by a bunch of rooms, and I was never very loud.

I squeezed my eyes shut; pressing myself against a wall and waiting for Lamia to take one of my limbs and eat it like a chicken wing, when something I totally didn't expect happened.

I heard a familiar voice, calling me, and opened my eyes to see the cubicle door violently kicked open. There, in the doorway, stood my mother, panting and sweaty, clasping something small in her hands.

Lamia hissed, glancing at my mother. "No matter," she growled. "My lunch has grown of its own accord."

Without thinking, I said, "Mom! Get out of here!" Even though it was I who called her in the first place.

My mother looked at me, desperation in her eyes. She said nothing, but I could understand what she was thinking. She couldn't fight Lamia, but somehow, I could.

Before Lamia could seize her, mom threw the small object she held in her palm at me, and raced out of the cubicle. I grabbed the item out of the air and watched my mother leave. In the next room over, I heard my mother arguing with another dentist about fetching help, her daughter was in imminent danger, but he only laughed and must've returned to his work. I heard my mother's footsteps recede as she pounded out of that room and went looking for someone to help.

Then I looked down, to study my… Whatever mom threw me. When I saw it, a feeling of complete disappointment coursed through me. What the heck, mom?

My mother had gone out of her way to bring me a super-powerful, almighty, extraordinary… silver hairpin shaped like a rose.

I groaned as I squeezed the clip in my hand, realizing with dismay that I would never escape this egotistical serpent lady.

Lamia chuckled in her guttural fashion. "Brought you an accessory, did she?" She teased, making me clench my fists in anger. "How useful."

I stared up at Lamia with a look of pure disgust. All of a sudden, whether it was a result of my anger, or I just instinctively knew what to do, I slowly removed the pin from my palm. Without thinking, I bent back a single petal on the rose that was thicker than the others. In my hand, there grew a long, perfectly balanced, Celestial Bronze sword. The hilt was etched in a foreign language that I somehow understood. Thálassa. Sealash.

At the sight of the material, Lamia hesitated, staring at the weapon with revulsion. I immediately knew this was the way to defeat her. Stepping out from my corner, I approached Lamia fearlessly, all fright replaced by my extreme hatred of my demon dentist.

Lamia hissed at me, but I lashed out first. I attempted to hit her in the chest, but she anticipated my attack and backed away. I feinted to her right, but quickly sidestepped to her left and made a slash at her shoulder. She was too quick for me.

Minutes passed like this, I with my sword and she with her hands. I could not hit her, yet she could not approach when I was well-armed with an object that would destroy her with a single touch.

I was becoming weary, Sealash becoming heavy in my hand. Finally, out of desperation, I made a reckless lunge at Lamia's exposed belly when she was distracted by a feint to her head. She saw me coming and backed away, leaning against the wall.

I successfully maimed her in the stomach, but as I slashed through her, I also stabbed through the wall. She made a strange noise-somewhere between a guttural growl and a hiss- as she exploded into yellow vapor before my eyes. I stood frozen in astonishment. The wall had a gouge mark in it where I damaged it, but that was the least of my worries. I heard sirens coming, and cursed myself. Obviously, people must have heard our scuffle. Why they didn't come to us, I didn't know. My mother's doing?

I touched the base of Sealash's hilt as if I'd done it a million times; it transformed back into a rose pin. I clipped it into my hair and dashed out of the broken cubicle door my mom had kicked down.

I ran frantically out into the lobby, where I must've looked like a crazy person, covered in yellow dust and toothpaste. My mother was nowhere to be found. I spun around with wild eyes, desperately searching for her. When the receptionist was about to approach me, I bolted out the door and into the parking lot, where I ran to the nearest car, a Porsche, broke a window, and jumped in.

My instincts took over as I dove underneath the seat and fiddled with wires, though I had no idea what was doing. By some miracle, the car started, but that still left other problems.

I couldn't find my mother. I would use the car to search for her.

Also, not only was I a twelve-year old stealing a Porsche and intending on driving it, but policemen were rounding the corner into the parking lot. I shook my head. Simple policemen don't scare me, after what I've seen today, I thought grimly. But they can deter me. Grimacing, I grabbed the stick controller and jammed it back, sending the car into an uncontrollable reverse. It flew backward and slammed into the front of the dentist's office, scattering people but thankfully not hurting anyone as they all evacuated the building.

I was momentarily dizzy, but then I came to my senses, hopped out of the car and ran for my life as I heard electricity popping behind me. Moments after I had exited the Porsche, it went up in flames and exploded, throwing me forward onto the ground, where I shakily stood and continued to run. Behind me, the car had reduced itself and the building to rubble.