So this fanfic will be posted in chapters, and here's the first. The setting is Pre-Mark of Athena, but Post-Son of Neptune.


If you’re reading this, it isn’t a good sign. First, it means you’ve snuck into my room and stolen my diary (this very book)! It also means that when I find out, you will….um….face the wrath of…me. Now, the real question is how you’ve managed to obtain this book. It means A) I’ve either been brutally murdered and am serving my eternal damnation in the Under World or B) It’s Tortilla Tuesday at Applebee’s. Again, neither is very good news.
But both mean you have a while before I return. Now, I’m not going to go all cheesy diary on you. Don’t expect to find dramatic play-by-play scenes like “And then Tyson said this and Annabeth was like so mad and then and then and then….” You get the point. And DEFINITELY don’t expect to find boys’ names drowning in seas of hearts and flowers. I assure you, my journal is anything but. So just sit back, relax, and read the story of my cursed demigod life.

It all started on a Tuesday. A very normal, very average Tuesday with a guitar lesson at six and tennis at two. The whole trampled-to-death by spiders thing didn’t start until twelve. That definitely wasn’t on the schedule.
Let me explain.
It was 11:00 and I was sitting in English. Nothing exciting ever happens in English. Mr. Gaskins was droning on and on about some Shakespearean work and I, along with the rest of the class, was extremely bored. I don’t even think Tommy was awake. It was stifling in the classroom. The pressure of all of the humidity started to take its toll on my eyelids, too. My head started to slump onto my desk and my pen clattered to the floor. Just before my eyelids completely drooped closed, a thick tuft of my dark hair fell onto the desk. I looked at it curiously. Why would a clump of my hair fall out? I was only thirteen, I couldn’t be balding! Only, it wasn’t hair. The furry spider scuttled across my desk and I shrieked. Everybody turned around to stare at me. Tommy shot up. Mr. Gaskins stopped talking.
“S-sorry,” I mumbled stupidly. “Just a spider.“ They kept staring. “Um, as you were. Go on.”
They continued to stare, and only then did I realize it wasn’t at me. I looked down to where the spider had fallen and not only was the spider still there, but dozens of other hairy-legged arachnids were literally multiplying. My classmates all ran shrieking from the room and I stood completely frozen. Spiders. They were filling up the entire classroom.
Every time one moved, another equally scary one sprung from its body. How is this happening? Pretty soon my instincts just took over. Destroy now, worry later. The only problem was that I had a horrible fear of spiders. They almost seemed to, as weird as it sounds, follow me. Like that one time when I was six…I could’ve sworn a tarantula six times the size of a usual breed had scuttled out of my closet. Dad didn’t believe me. And the other time when I was nine, I had taken a day trip to the park and a bright orange many-legged creature latched on to my hair. Scarred for life after that one. The recurring spider thing wasn’t exactly what I called a good time. I thought for a moment. I needed a plan. As my classmates and teacher evacuated the room, I grabbed the long pointer by the blackboard and prodded each creature I could reach with the wooden stick. Now, spiders don’t exactly react kindly to being wacked in the eyes, so I managed to make my way to the door…although bruised and scraped. I decided that this was too much for me. I just couldn’t accept that something so strange happened. I was used to good plain logic. Seeing no other solution, I took off down the hallway, my classmates staring at me like I was some sort of freak, and started to run home without looking back.

Tell me what you think? Should I post more? :) Thanks.