Devin’s Diary, Entry 1
??/??/2037
Day 4582. (In reality, about day 10, according to Ace.)
My life’s pretty pathetic. ‘Bout a week ago, I would have been sitting at home, minding my own business. Now my home’s burnt wood and ash, ‘n I’m sitting in a cell like some horrible criminal. They say I’m a demigod, like one of those traitors from the news. But if I try to tell the others here that I’m not one of them, they laugh and ignore me. Wonderful. They’re not all bad though. The warden’s nice, and so is the guy in the cell across from mine, Ace. That’s all the people I know so far, but they don’t seem like traitors…
I suppose I should tell you how I got here, and where this stupid book I’m writing in came from. Okay, here goes nothing…
Mum’s a famous country singer, and when all this demigod-government-apocalypse-ihavenoideawhat started, rumors started circling that my father wasn’t mortal… Stupid celebrity gossip. I am going to find the guy who published that magazine and stick him in a cell, see how he likes it… Okay, Okay sorry, off topic… Anyway, it got worse and worse until I couldn’t leave the house. People would throw rocks, threaten to get the police, call me a witch... you get the idea. And once I didn’t come out, the grazers came in. They set fire to the outside and waited for mum and I to come flying out like startled deer. Trust me, there’s not much creepier than waking up and your bedroom is burning. I’d made it to the stairs when a grazer grabbed me by my hair and pulled me outside. There was an army waiting, which didn’t seem quite fair, all of them against an unarmed girl in tacky plaid pajama pants. I don’t know what happened to mum; hopefully she’s still back in Nashville, alright… They threw me in the back of a truck, like cargo, and after that it’s kind of a blur… They asked a million questions, a lot of which I had no idea what they were talking about. I won’t bore you with details. I was allowed to change (Seriously? My closet somehow survived, but the guitar from my dad and everything else I treasured burned?), then I was shipped off here, to the Pitt.
A few days after I got here, this journal appeared in my cell. The others here say it’s a gift from my dad, I say it’s a curse. Plain green leather notebook, nothing fancy, worn around the edges. I’ll summarize so you don’t have to read it: First section, written by an old guy named Halycon Green. It’s gruesome... he lured demigods to their… death. An immortal punishment, for saying someone’s life. Then there’s a few pages written by someone named Luke… I’ll just let you read that part yourself. At the end, there’s a note from Thalia, a girl in Luke’s story. It’s hard to read, lots of tearstains, but Luke’s dead, he was possessed by Kronos… Anyway, she calls the diary cursed and warns that whoever finds it should leave it alone. Wow. Thanks pops. I get a dead man’s cursed diary to write in.
There’s only this page left in the end, so I’ll only be able to write when I can find paper after this. I’ll try to save some in case anything important happens. Like anything could happen, I’m in A PRISON. I’m not staying long though, that’s a fact… I’m going to bust out of here, just you wait.
Over and Out, Devin.
??/??/2037
Day 4582. (In reality, about day 10, according to Ace.)
My life’s pretty pathetic. ‘Bout a week ago, I would have been sitting at home, minding my own business. Now my home’s burnt wood and ash, ‘n I’m sitting in a cell like some horrible criminal. They say I’m a demigod, like one of those traitors from the news. But if I try to tell the others here that I’m not one of them, they laugh and ignore me. Wonderful. They’re not all bad though. The warden’s nice, and so is the guy in the cell across from mine, Ace. That’s all the people I know so far, but they don’t seem like traitors…
I suppose I should tell you how I got here, and where this stupid book I’m writing in came from. Okay, here goes nothing…
Mum’s a famous country singer, and when all this demigod-government-apocalypse-ihavenoideawhat started, rumors started circling that my father wasn’t mortal… Stupid celebrity gossip. I am going to find the guy who published that magazine and stick him in a cell, see how he likes it… Okay, Okay sorry, off topic… Anyway, it got worse and worse until I couldn’t leave the house. People would throw rocks, threaten to get the police, call me a witch... you get the idea. And once I didn’t come out, the grazers came in. They set fire to the outside and waited for mum and I to come flying out like startled deer. Trust me, there’s not much creepier than waking up and your bedroom is burning. I’d made it to the stairs when a grazer grabbed me by my hair and pulled me outside. There was an army waiting, which didn’t seem quite fair, all of them against an unarmed girl in tacky plaid pajama pants. I don’t know what happened to mum; hopefully she’s still back in Nashville, alright… They threw me in the back of a truck, like cargo, and after that it’s kind of a blur… They asked a million questions, a lot of which I had no idea what they were talking about. I won’t bore you with details. I was allowed to change (Seriously? My closet somehow survived, but the guitar from my dad and everything else I treasured burned?), then I was shipped off here, to the Pitt.
A few days after I got here, this journal appeared in my cell. The others here say it’s a gift from my dad, I say it’s a curse. Plain green leather notebook, nothing fancy, worn around the edges. I’ll summarize so you don’t have to read it: First section, written by an old guy named Halycon Green. It’s gruesome... he lured demigods to their… death. An immortal punishment, for saying someone’s life. Then there’s a few pages written by someone named Luke… I’ll just let you read that part yourself. At the end, there’s a note from Thalia, a girl in Luke’s story. It’s hard to read, lots of tearstains, but Luke’s dead, he was possessed by Kronos… Anyway, she calls the diary cursed and warns that whoever finds it should leave it alone. Wow. Thanks pops. I get a dead man’s cursed diary to write in.
There’s only this page left in the end, so I’ll only be able to write when I can find paper after this. I’ll try to save some in case anything important happens. Like anything could happen, I’m in A PRISON. I’m not staying long though, that’s a fact… I’m going to bust out of here, just you wait.
Over and Out, Devin.
Sneak Peek
Name:
Nickename:
Age:
(13 and up)
Gender:
Immortal Parent:
Mortal Parent:
Undetermined or Determined:
Appearance:
(A pic would be fine)
Personality:
Abilities:
Weapons:
//Other Equipment:
Cabin Symbol:
Background:
Other:
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Daidos, 2nd Son of Hades
Ben Krasner
