My first story/chapter of a story, so please, no flames. R&R appreciated.

Disclaimer: If I owned Percy Jackson, the story would have never made it into publishing. I am clearly not Rick Riordan.

Enjoy c[:

We Run From A Freak

Ever get the feeling you're being watched?

For me, well, it's true. I do get watched. Quite frequently, really.

You should probably know my past before I continue. My name is Eve Benson, fourteen year old girl and daughter of Lily Benson. I can't tell you who my dad is. It's… personal. Important.

So anyways, I lived in a neat little condo as a baby. But after 8 months… my dad had to go. I don't remember where my mother went, but she may or may not have followed him. I don't know. So, until about a year ago, I was a student at a school for homeless, parentless, and poor people. I forgot the name of it, but I blame my ADHD and dyslexia. They kill me.

Sorry, I'm getting off topic. Right. Back to my point. I was living there for a while, sharing a dorm with my best friend , Lola Ruman. Funny thing, though, she's also been diagnosed with ADHD and dyslexia. But at the time I had no idea what we'd been in for because of it.

It started when I had started to see monsters. No, not the fake kind in movies, or the kinds in stories that scare little kids. And no, I was not hallucinating.

At age 7, I saw my English teacher turn into some sort of vampire-donkey-automaton hybrid with fangs and fiery hair. It lasted for only a brief second, and no one else but Lola seemed to sense something was wrong. At 9, our vice principal, Mr. Blake, turned into a sleek black seal with sharp claws and a Doberman-like face. Out of nowhere, something sharp and shiny hit him, and Mr. Blake turned into yellow-green dust. Bye bye, Blake. Hello, Ms. Pandora.

But the most recent: a Cyclops. You heard me. The freak only had one eye in the middle of his pudgy head, and I swear he was after me and Lola.

The Cyclops chased us as we ran from hallway to hallway, from the Science lab to homeroom.

To give him props, that thing was quick, despite the fact that he was pretty big and heavy. Suddenly, a boy in his teens appeared at the door that we were about to go through, motioning for us to follow him. He had small horns, a goatee that looked like it had recently been shaved, shaggy goat legs, a tail, and hooves. Somehow, something came to my head that it had to be a satyr, even though I knew that shouldn't be possible. And I didn't even really know much about Greek mythology, much less remember something from it. Two days earlier I hadn't even remembered that I had a huge math test coming up the next day. But anyways, I figured following a goat dude would be way better than our alternative- getting pummeled by a giant one-eyed freakazoid. Apparently, Lola had the same idea I was about to have. We would run through the Cyclops' legs and go around the opposite way to confuse him, and then follow the satyr. But that didn't last long when he was about to turn us into grease spots, so we flew out the door.

"Dude, who are you? And what are you supposed to be, a donkey man?" I demanded. I wanted to make sure he wasn't, like, a kidnapper or anything before I followed him. He glared at me, clearly not wanting to be called 'donkey man'.

After I apologized, taking his hint, he admitted that his name was Barry (which I found funny, because if you just replaced the 'a' with an 'e', it'd be 'Berry'. Though I think that was his parents' intentions. I decided not to say anything) and quickly explained that he'd take us to Camp Half-Blood (wherever that was).

Barry found us a cab courtesy of whoever the Gray Sisters were, and we headed off to some silly camp.

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