Disclaimer- I do not own the Camp Half-Blood series. They are Rick Riordan's works

I apologize for the extremely late update. I will not post new chapters very often. (That applies to all of my stories)

The soft wind ruffles my hair as I make my way down the street. Occasionally, my head turns and stares at the minuscule house about a hundred yards away. My sister is too far to be seen, but I know she is watching me, waiting for my figure to disappear around the block before she enters the house. As I check the streets one final time, I see that they are, again, empty. Perfect. The sky is a dark blue, and the glowing white orb remains floating in the sky, illuminating the world around me.

About ten minutes- or so I think- pass, and my footsteps come to a stop. Raising my arm to eye level, I check my watch. 6:30. Dammit. At this time, most people will have woken, including my fellow classmates, who I imagine will be anticipating to pounce on me the moment they lay hands on me. A few streaks of sweat coming down my neck, I go faster, now walking at a brisk pace. There's still an hour and a half to the start of class, but I have to get there as soon as possible. I can't risk-

Suddenly, a mysterious force tugs on my hood, and I collapse, yelping as the back of my head hits the hard concrete. I quickly check my limbs, realizing with relief that I have no injuries, though I can see a light bruise on my arm. My skull throbs with pain, and I sit up, attempting to stand before a set of hands push me onto the ground again.

Looming above me is a guy with red, straight hair. His pale face is fixed with a look of disgust, making me back away from him, holding out my hands. I recognize him immediately as one of the hooligans from my school. When I see his raise his fist, a surge of panic conquers my body, and before he can attack, I am on my feet. Clutching my backpack, I run, paying little attention to the pedestrians I am knocking over.

Reaching the end of the sidewalk, I leap into the street. As I make my way across, a truck honks violently and skids to a stop, before continuing on its way once I am out of its path. When I make it to the other side (of the sidewalk, mind you) I grab a street pole, and take a moment to catch my breath.

Unfortunately, it takes several minutes for me to regain my strength, and once I set off again, the redheaded guy has caught up with me. I stop for a moment to grab a stone, and hurl it at him, not daring to risk a glance as I continue on my way. As I force my legs to carry me another hundred yards, I notice a glimpse of sun making its way up the sky. At the same time, the silhouette of a building comes into view. I pick up my pace, and the structure gradually increases in size until I am standing at a marble staircase, the building towering above me.

"Hey! I'm not done with you!"

I spin around, and to my horror, the redhead is standing a few feet from me, a purple textbook in his arms. My eyes widen, knowing there may be no escape for me. Frantically, I plunge my hand into my pocket, only to realize my knife is gone. I turn to climb the stairs, just as he tosses the textbook, which collides with my head. My sight is abruptly shrouded in black, and my consciousness fades.

"What exactly do you think you're doing here?" A harsh, male voice jolts me awake, exposing my eyes to an uncomfortably bright dose of sunlight. Groggily, I stand, blinking several times. A man with slicked-back raven hair and glasses is glaring at me, looking up and down as I brush the dirt off my clothes. I say nothing as he continues, shaking his head.

"Second year of high school, and yet you clearly lack the potential to survive after you're done with school." The man whips out a clipboard and scribbles a few notes, and clears his throat. "Do you really think you can just show up two hours late and expect to be let off?"

I stay silent.

"Answer me."

I manage to muster one word. "N-no."

"Excuse me?"

I frown. "That was a yes or no question, was it not?" I explain further, causing the man to cross his arms and roll his eyes, letting out a soft sigh. "And you expected me to reply 'no', did you not? Why are you the principal, if you don't understand that?"

The principal scoffs and leaves, and I stomp up the stairs, my eyes filled with a mixture of annoyance and anger. Reaching the entrance door, I pull the handle, and storm into the auditorium, where a woman is speaking on the microphone. Upon my entrance, she stops speaking, and the rows of eyes turn to me. My own eyes dart around, and turning red, I choose the nearest seat and walk over. As I am about to sit, however, a hand pushes me away. The owner of said hand is a boy of about the same age. "Get away from me, homo!" he says, and glaring at me, smacks me with a ruler.

I wince from the sharp sting and move a few seats back, making sure to put up my backpack between us.

Once the confusion dies down, the woman resumes talking. "Your teachers will be introduced later..." My focus drifts from her voice as I look around. Behind me is a familiar-looking boy. When I take a closer look, I realize it is him. That jerk who knocked me out earlier. I hiss at him, and in return, he sneers at me, gesturing at me to his friends, all wearing hoodies, each of a different color. The symbols on them... for some reason, the symbols catch my interest.

ξενηρψηλααεεξυυσσταυρσ

From the looks of it, I can immediately tell it is Greek. Normally, I never bother with reading. I mean, I know what the alphabet is. But whenever I attempt to read a sentence in English, my brain seems to malfunction. The words float of the page. Symbols get mixed up. My mother took me to a psychologist a couple years back, and they figured that I had dyslexia. However, I am struck with a sudden curiosity, a desire to figure out what those letters mean.

To my surprise, I begin to spell out the symbols, almost against my will. "C...E...N...H...R-"

"What the f*ck are you looking, homo?" snaps one of them. The rest of the group sniggers, and I look away, embarrassed. Overwhelmed with humiliation, I decide to focus on the woman, who is still speaking. Sitting up, I adjust my shirt, and try to stay still, as she continues her speech.

At that moment, a loud bang startles the audience, and for a while, no one dares to say a word. Suddenly, the auditorium erupts into a chorus of shrieks, as everyone scrambles to find the source of the noise. Was it a gunshot? Leaving my backpack behind, I jump out of my seat, joining the panicking crowd. It was then that we hear a voice.

"Come here!" At the front of the room is a teenage boy. He is frantically waving his arms, pointing to the stage. "Someone shot her!" All heads turn to him, and the screaming continues, if not growing louder.

The woman is lying on the stage, her eyes glassy. She is breathing heavily, her expression one of fear and shock. As everyone comes to their senses, the only sound in the auditorium is her gasps, gradually getting fainter. One of her legs hangs from the edge as she slowly slides off, eventually dropping on the ground. I'm not close to the stage, but everyone seems to notice it.

It would've been difficult to miss the wound in her chest, the blood quickly soaking her blouse.