I Am Percy Jackson

Chapter 7: Dad Wasn't Lying


He didn't even let me change. Going outside in pajamas with little boats all over them wasn't exactly my style, but apparently, we had to 'leave right away.' I mean, seriously! It won't even take more than 5 minutes for me to change into a t-shirt and jeans.

During the entire car ride, we were silent. Usually, I would feel awkward because I hated silences. But this time, I was too absorbed in my thoughts to care. My hands were shaking the entire time and I couldn't stop them. The only thing that was running through my head was that I killed her. I killed that girl–thing! I swung my transforming sword and chopped off its ugly head! Oh god, what if I go to juvenile? I doubt I'd survive for more than one week there.

Dad cleared his throat, interrupting me from my thoughts. "We're here."

We stopped in front of a big pine tree. Next to it was a temple entrance with the words CAMP HALF-BLOOD engraved on the top. My eyes widened with shock when I saw what was happening beyond the entrance.

Boys and girls around my age were sword-fighting, shooting arrows, canoeing, and climbing up a wall with bubbling lava underneath. Shouts and laughter erupted from the place.

"What is this place?" I whispered in amazement. I'm sure that I've never set one foot in here before, but I felt a close connection with this place. Oddly enough, it felt like home.

"Camp Half-Blood," Dad said.

"What am I doing here? Shouldn't you be driving me to the police or something?" I asked.

"Well, you're here to...uh, learn to defend yourself from future monsters. And no, why would I bring you to the police? You haven't done anything wrong," he said, raising an eyebrow.

That did it. I tore my gaze away from the camp and frowned. "Are you still on about that? That I'm a demigod?"

"Pierce, it sounds surreal, I know, but...you are a demigod." He gestured at the camp. "Everybody there is a demigod."

"You're kidding."

"I'm not."

"You have to be."

"I'm not," Dad repeated. "Look, why don't you just go in?"

I noticed that he didn't say we. He only said you. "How about you?" I asked. I felt a bit uneasy going in there with all the sword fighting and arrows shooting. I mean, what if somebody accidentally shoots an arrow at my head? If you ask me, I would like to stay alive.

"I can't." He shook his head. "I'm a mortal, so I can't go in."

I gave him a look and finally decided to play along. "Okay, fine. Supposedly, I am a demigod–"

"Finally!" Dad breathed in relief.

"–then whose my mother?" I finished, ignoring his little comment.

He hesitated and looked as if he was contemplating whether or not he should tell me. Suddenly, a startled expression crossed his face and he nearly jumped out of his seats. His cheeks were slightly tinged with pink and a second later, a beautiful dove flew past the car. It was strangely close to my dad's window.

"I can't tell you now, but you'll find out soon when you go in," he reassured me.

"You really want me to go in?" I asked. "What if I never come out? It'd be all your fault!"

"Pierce," he hesitated, "you belong here."

I blinked at him. "I do? But I've never even been here before," I said. My body jerked and I didn't feel right when I said that. That was silly, though. I would remember if I came here before.

"Pierce," he repeated, "I really don't want to see my son get killed by some monsters right now, so please just go in."

I snorted. "Is there some kind of magical barrier around the camp or something?"

"Well, yes, there is," Dad said.

My eyes drifted back toward the camp and then to the pine tree. I've seen a lot of pine trees in my life, but I felt some sort of connection to this tree. I felt like I knew this tree, but how can I know a tree? Just the thought of it was ridiculous.

Go in, my son.

I jumped a little in my seat and looked at my dad. "What did you say?"

"I didn't say anything." He raised his eyebrows at me.

My eyebrows furrowed together. Great. Am I now hearing voices in my head too?

"Fine, okay, I'll go in," I sighed. It didn't seem like my dad was going to go anywhere unless I go in, so I might as well check out what's so special about this camp.

I opened the door and stepped outside. I noticed that the temperature had dropped a lot, which was weird. Judging by the color of the sky, it looked like it was going to rain soon. But the odd thing was that, inside the camp, it looked sunny. The stormy clouds were skirting around the camp, as if something was preventing them from going in.

Once I closed the door, I heard the engine start up. I quickly spun around and saw my dad's hands on the wheel.

"Have fun! I'll come back to pick you up after a week," he shouted, rolling the car window down. My mouth dropped and guess what he also did? He waved.

"I can't–I can't stay here! Dad, what are you doing?" I exclaimed. He pressed down with his foot and the car began to move.

If you're parent dropped you off at some sword fighting camp and decided to drive away the second you stepped on the ground, you would run after them, right? Well, that's exactly what I did. And needless to say, I drastically failed. I was never the fastest runner in my P.E. class and in my freshmen year, I joined the Track team since it was the only sport where you didn't need to tryout for.

At all the track meets, I always finished last, no matter which event I was running. I had a lot endurance and stamina, so I usually ran the mile, but I was sadly lacking speed. I mean, I do great in the middle, but at the end, that's when everybody force themselves to sprint as fast as they can to the finish line. When they do that, I literally eat their dust. It makes me sad that instead of getting Dad's good genes, I got his not-so-great ones.

I glared at the tracks the car made. Then I turned around and saw that I wasn't too far from the entrance. Wow, I must run really slow.


As I began trudging reluctantly toward the camp, I sighed as if it was the end of the world. I saw something shiny and golden resting on top of the pine tree when I got to the entrance. I wondered why they put it there. It looked really expensive and the pine tree looked pretty easy to climb. It'd be a piece of cake for anybody to steal it and run away with it.

I shook my thoughts away and stepped through the entrance. The smell of fresh strawberries immediately reached my nose.

I stepped back out.

The smell of mud and trees filled my nose, which I wrinkled my nose to.

I stepped back in.

Strawberries.

Weird, I thought.

I shrugged and thought it must just be my nose. I took small steps and prayed that nobody would notice me. You don't see me, you don't see me, I thought. But of course, that didn't happen. Some kids stopped and pointed at me and they were laughing. Was there something on me?

I looked down and stopped midstep. When I saw what was causing the laughter, I wanted to turn around and run away from this place as far as possible. I was in my pajamas. The pajamas with little boats all over them. I cursed my dad mentally.

"Nice pajamas!" I heard someone call out. Snickers followed after they said that.

I blushed in embarrassment and kept my head down and began walking faster. I was looking for a shadowy place where I won't be in plain sight with my pajamas when I heard hooves.

Great. Was a horse going to come and run over me now?

That actually happened to me before. One time, on a class field trip in elementary school, we went to Auntie M's Farm. Once we got there, everybody immediately seperated into their groups, but since I was in no groups, I stood there myself, playing with my fingers. I didn't know what to do until I heard horse hooves running behind me. A normal person would move, but I guess my mind wasn't functioning properly.

And that was the story of how a horse ran over me. Although, it didn't bite my head off like I expected it would. Instead, it began to lick me like a happy dog. Let me tell you one thing, horse saliva is nothing like dog saliva. In fact, it's the complete opposite because it stinks. I'm surprised my 10-year old self didn't faint from it all. The horse from the farm kept neighing, but since I didn't speak horse, I couldn't understand what he/she said.

I heard the hooves skid in front of me and I looked up. It blocked the sun for me, which I was grateful for.

I blinked twice to clear my vision. My jaw fell to the ground and I'm pretty sure I looked like a lost fish.

"Oh my, God!" I yelped, taking a step back.

Standing in front of me was a half-horse, half-man. His head and chest were of a man, but starting below his stomach was the body of a white horse.

"Um, nice costume," I said.

The half-horse, half-man gave me a puzzled look. "What costume?"

"That..?" I pointed at the horse body.

Once I pointed, an offended look crossed his face. "My dear boy, this is not a costume!"

"Not a costume?" I echoed faintly. "You–you're not human... What are you?" I knew what he was in the back of my head, but I was drowning in the deepest level of denial.

"Why, a centaur, of course," he said. "Now, who are you, child?"

His eyes that seemed a thousand years old stared into mine and out of the corner of my eye, I saw his tail flicking back and forth. No costume could do that. As much as I didn't want to, I was beginning to believe my dad.

"I'm Pierce Johnson," I said, not sure if I should take my hand out and let him shake it. "Uh, my dad send me here. He said I was...um, a demigod."

"You do not believe him," he stated.

A small crowd was gathering around us and I wished that they would go away. I hated attention. At school, I'd wear the plainest clothes possible and just stay in the corners where I wouldn't be noticed. It was better than being picked on or teased everyday.

The centaur didn't seem to notice about the crowed, or if he did, he didn't mind.

I scratched the back of my head nervously. "Not really. I mean, I did kill this empousa girl–Kelli–and you're sort of living proof of it all, but it all seems so unbelievable," I rambled.

"Wait,"–he held his hand up in a Stop motion–"Empousa? You killed an empousa?"

"Yeah, it broke into my kitchen," I said. I didn't mention the pen. I didn't know why, but I didn't feel like it. I slid my hand into my pocket and clutched onto the pen. Suddenly, I felt protective over it.

He began muttering to himself under his breath, "Oh, the orientation film won't do."

"Um, sir?" I asked, shifting all my weight onto my left foot.

His eyes flicked to me. "Are you feeling hurt?"

I raised an eyebrow. I thought of the slang at first. People at school used the word hurt to describe ugly or moded.

"No." I shook my head.

"Good. Why don't we go to the Big House for a talk, Pierce Johnson?" The centaur extended his hand formally at a big white house.


The Big House was pretty and was the most normal-est thing I've seen today so far, but I don't think I would ever go back.

Why?

Because of the company it kept.

Inside the house was a short man slouched on a leather couch. He had red nose, big watery eyes, and dark curly hair. He looked like he had a cold or was extremely sick. He wore a wrinkled Hawaiian shirt with grapes all over them. I immediately got a bad vibe from him and I didn't even utter more than one word to him.

"Who is this? Another selfish brat?" he said, shuffling a pile of cards.

"Now, Dionysus," the centaur said calmly. "This is Pierce Johnson."

"Whatever, I don't care," Dionysus waved his hand dismissively. My eyes widened. Dionysus. Then I made a face. The great god of wine was that? Hestia, the goddess of the hearth, gave up her throne on Mt. Olympus to that?

I followed the centaur over to a desk and took a seat. I studied him for a moment when I realized that I didn't even know his name. "Do you have a name?" I blurted.

"Of course he has a name! Brats with no brains these days," Dionysus cried.

I resisted the urge to go up to him and give him a nice punch in the face. I told myself that he was a god and I was not. Besides, in the myths, Dionysus was pretty deadly and in one myth–sorry, story–he killed a ship full of sailors and turned some into dolphins. I'd like to stay human...or according to my dad, a demigod. Not some kind of sea creature.

"I'm Chiron," the centaur introduced himself, smiling kindly at me.

"The Chiron?"

"Yes."

"But shouldn't you be dead? In Elysium or something?" I asked. I felt something spark in me when I said Elysium. But I don't think I ever died, so there's no way I've ever been there.

Chiron chuckled. "You remind me of a student I once had. His name was Percy Jackson. The two of you look quite alike, too."

Dionysus made a disgusted snort. "Glad that Perry Johnson's gone."

"What happen to him?" I ignored Dionysus.

His expression became sad. "Like all great heroes, he didn't get a happy ending. He died by protecting the camp."

The room became silent. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, waiting for Chiron to finish his silent mourning for Percy Jackson. Percy Jackson. That name seemed familiar.

Chiron shook his head and his hooves tapped the ground. "Well, we're talking about you right now. Pierce, how old are you?"

I blinked at him in surprise. "Sixteen."

He furrowed his eyebrows together. "Interesting. Did anything...peculiar happen to you on your 13th birthday? Perhaps a symbol on top of your head?"

"Uh, no. Nothing happened." I shrugged.

Chiron looked past me and at Dionysus. Dionysus seemed to be confused too, but 99% of his expression screamed I-Don't-Care.

"Very peculiar," Chiron hummed, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "Pierce, did your father tell you anything about your mother?"

"He said I'll find out about her once I come into camp."

"Ah, alright, then. Then it seems that we have to wait, but Pierce, do you believe in all of this now?"

Right on cue, someone ran in. It was boy, around my age, and he was panting heavily. From the top, like Chiron, he looked like any ordinary teenage boy. But, also like Chiron, his bottom wasn't. He had goat legs. A satyr, I thought.

"Chiron!" the satyr yelled.

"Agh! Can you brats stop shouting?" Dionysus glared at the satyr.

The satyr's legs began to shake and a terrified expression crossed his face. "S–sorry, sir."

Chiron began walking toward the satyr and he looked at him with concern. "Yes, Grover?"

Chiron knelt his head to get to Grover's height. But even then, Grover had to tip-toe a little on his...goat legs. Both of them began to speak in hushed whispers, but Grover couldn't whisper very well.

I know what you're thinking and I assure you that I was not eavesdropping.

Then Chiron brought his head back up and nodded. "I'll take care of it. Why don't you go meet Pierce Johnson?"

Grover looked up and his face froze like one of Medusa's victims. His eyes darted to Chiron and back to me. His mouth fell open and he gaped. It only got stranger. He started pointing and stuttering over his words. It looked like he was having an attack.

"Uh, are you okay? Do you need the doctor? That is, if there is any doctors around here..." I trailed off.

Grover continued pointing and I was wondering why wasn't Chiron doing anything.

"Look, it's rude to point!" I finally snapped. "My PJ's aren't that bad. I think."

"P–Percy?"

"Who?"

"No, it's not, Grover," Chiron cut in. "Pierce, meet Grover Underwood. Grover, this is Pierce Johnson."

He shakily trotted over to me and held out his hand.

First, I stared at it unsurely. I mean, the impression he gave off a few seconds ago wasn't exactly very friendly. Although, Chiron was looking and for some reason, I didn't want to upset him, so I shook Grover's hand and he jumped away and gasped.

"His hand even feels like Percy! He even shakes like Percy!" Grover cried.

"You know how Percy's palm feels like?" Chiron raised an eyebrow at him.

Grover bleated, but it sounded like a family of frogs crying. Don't tell him that, though. He looks very emotional right now and I have no idea what I did. All I did was enter this weird camp, follow the Chiron into a house, and he just burst in. As far as I can see, I did nothing wrong, right?

"Of course! He's my best friend! I could never forget!" Grover moaned, chewing on some tin cans.

I wondered where he got them so quickly.

Chiron took one look at my bewildered expression and put one hand on Grover's shoulder. "Grover, why don't you just take Pierce to the Hermes cabin? We'll discuss this later."

Discuss? They were going to discuss about me later? Wow, I didn't know I was so famous and I haven't even been in this camp for more than an hour.

"Yes, sir," Grover said. His whole body, including his goat part of his body, was trembling and I swear I didn't do anything to cause that! "Let's go, Per–ierce."


We stopped in front of a cabin that looked freshly painted. Actually, scratch that, it smelled freshly painted. Even if it did looked freshly painted, it looked old compared to others. It looked like a pile of junk next to this gold, shiny cabin. It was hard to even look at it for more than a second without looking away.

"So, this is the Hermes cabin. You'll stay here until you get claimed by your parent," Grover said.

"Claimed?"

"Yeah. You should know. Chiron told you all about it, right? Your mom or dad is a god and once you come in, they'll claim you. You're a bit strange, though."

"Right. Yeah. Totally. Of course, I know," I said. "Uh, why am I strange? Is it my pajamas?"

"No, you have cool pajamas, but it's just usually the gods claim you when you turn 13. Percy made them swear on the River Styx," he said thoughtfully.

"Um, thanks. Who is this Percy dude?" I asked.

A small spark ran through my body when I said that name again. I stepped away from Grover.

I couldn't wait for Dad to come and pick me up. If he doesn't come back in the next seven days, I'm going to steal some food and run away from here. I'm sure I'm going to be less confused in the wild than in this camp.

At first, I thought Grover wasn't going to answer, but he finally said, "My best friend."

"Isn't he dead?" I blurted.

"Yes, but he promised...he promised..." he trailed off and began to mumble to himself.

"You don't need to talk about it," I said, trying to prevent him from crying again. I never knew what to do when people cried. Like what do I do? Pat them awkwardly on the back and say, It's okay? Crying is a nasty business to mess with.

He smiled at me gratefully.

"Ah, I think I'll be okay here. I just go in, right?" I asked.

Grover nodded, showing little horns on the top of his head. They looked really sharp and for some reason, I wanted to touch it. Even if that does sound extremely weird.

"Uh, thanks," I said. "Bye?"

"Bye," he said absentmindedly and began to walk off. A girl with green skin suddenly jumped out of nowhere and jumped on him. Grover's eyes immediately brightened and he gave a big hug to the girl.

I took a deep breath and exhaled. I wish that Chiron offered me a change of clothes back in the Big House.

I cleared my mind and opened the cabin door and walked in. I was expecting a prank to spring out, but nothing happened. In fact, the cabin seemed dark and completely empty. I spotted a neat, empty, unslept in bed all the way in the back.

Right when I sat down on the bed, the lights turned on. Twenty or so kids jumped out behind their bunks and once they saw me, they started snickering. They all had the same mischievous faces and I figured that they were all brothers.

One man, around the age of twenty-something, stepped out and grinned at me. "I'm Travis Stoll. Chiron told us you were coming, so we prepared a bunk for you."

I felt a rush of gratitude toward this person. "Um, tha–"

I paused.

A small, green tail poked out from the pillows. And then another. And add in 4 more. Six little, green tails poking out.

Everybody surrounding me simply raised their eyebrows and shrugged.

"I like your pajamas!"

I blushed.

"Go check it out! What is it? I'm scared!"

I stared at the little tails hesitantly. From my view, it looked a little spiky and I already didn't like that. But I didn't want to appear weak in front of all these people, so I picked up the pillow.

And jumped away from the bed and threw the pillow back.

Underneath the pillow, were the most ugliest lizards I have ever seen in my entire life. Each one was scaly and had little bumps sticking out of their bodies. Their yellow eyes were beyond creepy. A few more crawled out from underneath the blankets.

All of them reminded me of fat, ugly snakes that lived in dangerous forests. Naturally, I screamed in fear, but after a few moments, I realized that I was the only one screaming.

Everybody behind me were laughing the entire time.

Travis Stoll tapped my shoulder and held out his hand. "Welcome to Camp Half-Blood, the Hermes cabin," he smiled, showing off all his teeth.

Dad, you better pick me up in a week, I thought.


I am so, so sorry for such a late update. I've been busy with multiple tests, projects, and getting all my stuff ready for graduation. Wow, it's going to be so scary entering high school in a few months, haha.

But anyway, I'll try my best to start updating faster when summer starts since I would have quite a lot of free time! :D

Also, a big thank you for all that reviewed, favorited, or followed! (: