8Just so you know, this story starts off after the Last Olympian in England. This is my first ever time writing a story on fan fiction, so please write a review if you can and hopefully it doesn't suck as much as I am worried it will.
I can remember back to the day that I finished seventh year of school. The first twelve hours of that day are hazy, blurry, and even dizzying to try to remember, but the other twelve are so vivid that they pain me to think of them. As to why, well twelve is a pretty big number, and those hours are the biggest twelve I've ever heard of.
My name is Firissa Allika Jones and this is my Journal.
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Date: Friday June 4th of 2010
Dear Journal?
Nope, writing that doesn't make it sound any bit less stupid. Whatever. Nothing really seems correct, because right now I'm on the first class part of a plane going to America, and all I'm doing is trying not to cry on my journal.
I guess that if I were to explain everything that's happened so far going backwards it would sound like gibberish, so I might as well start at the ending of my school day.
I was walking home with a smile on my face but my eyes staring at my feet walking on the ground below. Due to lack of coordination it was pretty much a requirement unless I felt like falling on my face.
My eyes blinked up to make sure that I was still going in the right direction, and off about thirty meters away was a house burning in green flame. MY house.
I hunched over and ran to my home, well I guess it's my old home now. The green flames licked every surface of the house, and it looked like it would collapse any second, but I didn't care.
Try as I might I can't run without falling so once I had reached the edge of the front lawn, I ended up crawling across it to the door, which seemed to just be held on by the paint on the hinges. I shoved it aside, nearly falling (and catching my black hair on fire) in the process.
It didn't matter. That was when I started letting the tears fall because the body of my dead mum lay in the doorframe, and my dad's wasn't too far away.
I backed away from the house and I saw a tiny glimmer of silver in the corner of my eye. I bent down and picked it up, then ran away, falling down multiple times.
Once I had gone far enough that I couldn't see the smoke, I sat on a park bench and examined the object that had caught my eye.
It was a small silver journal with a metal cover that had intricate swirls etched in the front. Each page was the color of a shimmering second place Olympic metal. It was blank except for a message on the very first page.
It read:
Dear Firissa,
To defend yourself touch the spine of this journal, but to stay sane write in it too.
Signed,
Your sister
Just then someone tapped me on the shoulder. I turned around and shrieked, because half a meter away was a bloke with horns and hairy goat legs the color of tree bark.
Behind my back, I pressed the spine of my book, then a few seconds later, I took it into the open and it had transformed into a gracefully curved short sword of brilliant shimmering bronze. I heavily emphasized the existence of my new sword by pointing it at the bloke's throat. I wouldn't have used it though because I had so little experience with weapons that I would probably end up holding the wrong end of it.
"Peace peace peace," the bloke said quickly with a slight American accent.
I slowly lowered my weapon, "who are you?"
"My name's Charlie Ivory, but please tell me that you're Firissa Jones, because I need to get her out of here immediately." He ranted
"I am but where are we supposed to go?" I ranted, "My house is burning green!"
"Calm down Fire, I've already got first class tickets to America."
"First class hmm? Well goat boy, that's the only reason I'm coming, but why are we going to America?" I questioned.
I'll have to explain when we land in New York, because our plane leaves in 45 minutes," Charlie hurriedly explained to me.
"Okay," I said just to avoid awkward silence.
I really don't feel like throwing up right now so I don't think I'll write about what the car ride was like. I guess that I'll skip to the airport.
I stepped out of the taxi Charlie had gotten and was dragged into a run to catch the plane. The two of us had barely gotten on when the aircraft took off into flight. (Yes I did fall several times trying to make it there.)
Just before I started writing, I decided to listen to my I pod, so in favor of the occasion, I played the song American Pie. My friend Mitchy Crowell had gotten me to like it when she came here as an exchange student from the USA.
When I got bored with that, (which happened wayyy too quickly) I started writing in my journal, wondering about how I could have a sister when I was an only child. Just wanting to know how I could've missed something so big that I could change my life this much.
I sincerely hope that my story is as fun to read as it was to write. PLEASE REVIEW! THX!