The Twins Of Poseidon

Getting A Quest

The next morning Percy had fully moved into cabin 3 with me and all his close were now in his cupboard. I could tell Percy was happy he wasn't fully alone in the cabin, we took turns shouting "lights out!" and Percy got me to try blue cookies and they are amazing I can see why he likes them so much. No one mentioned what happened with the hellhound but people were talking about it behind Percy's back I tried to get them to stop, but no one really listens to me anymore. They all just laugh after what happened at capture the flag, t's not my fault Clarisse almost killed me! The other campers steered clear of not just Percy but me now too, I think they found out about the prophecy. Percy got lessons with Luke in the woods after what he did last time he had sword class a few days ago. I might be sounding crazy, I mean I've known Luke forever, but I think somethings wrong with him. He's acting, different. It doesn't seem like anyone else has noticed though. Annabeth and I still taught Percy Greek every morning but Annabeth was distracted, she told me it was nothing but I'm getting worried about her. Anytime Percy would ask a question she would skowl him and some times me too. After lessons, she would walk away muttering to herself: "Quest ... Poseidon? ... Dirty rotten ... Got to make a plan ..." Even Clarisse kept her distance, from both me and Percy, though she seems to want to kill us both with her lighting spear. It was weird I have always belonged at this camp, everyone has treated me kindly, everyone has accepted me but since Percy's been claimed everyone's been avoiding me. Even Luke, even Chiron, even Grover, even Annabeth. I knew someone hated Percy and I (mainly Percy but still) because one night we got into our cabin we found a mortal newspaper dropped inside the doorway, a copy of the New York Daily News, opened to the Metro page. I read it fairly quickly but it took Percy nearly an hour to read, the more he read the more angry he got, the more angry he got the more words would float of the page. 

BOY AND MOTHER STILL MISSING AFTER FREAK CAR ACCIDENT 

BY EILEEN SMYTHE

Sally Jackson and son Percy are still missing one week after their mysterious disappearance. The family's badly burned '78 Camaro was discovered last Saturday on a north Long Island road with the roof ripped off and the front axle broken. The car had flipped and skidded for several hundred feet before exploding. Mother and son had gone for a weekend vacation to Montauk, but left hastily, under mysterious circum-stances. Small traces of blood were found in the car and near the scene of the wreck, but there were no other signs of the missing Jacksons. Residents in the rural area reported seeing nothing unusual around the time of the accident.Ms. Jackson's husband, Gabe Ugliano, claims that his stepson, Percy Jackson, is a troubled child who has been kicked out of numerous boarding schools and has expressed violent tendencies in the past. Police would not say whether son Percy is a suspect in his mother's disappearance, but they have not ruled out foul play. Below are recent pictures of Sally Jackson and Percy. Police urge anyone with information to call the following toll-free crime-stoppers hotline. 

The phone number was circled in black marker. Percy wadded up the number and threw it away, then flopped down on his bed, while I just was mad. I was still mad about the fact before I even got to meet my mom before she died protecting Percy. Then I remembered it was my turn to say 'lights out' "Lights out Percy." I said. "Night sis." He mumbled, "Night." I said before getting into bed. Did I mention that ever since Percy got here I haven't gotten any nightmares, weird. Probably because Percy has been getting them instead. When we woke up the next morning he told me about the nightmare he had. "I was running along the beach in a storm." Percy told me. "This time, there was a city behind me. Not New York. The sprawl was different: buildings spread farther apart, palm trees and low hills in the distance. About a hundred yards down the surf, two men were fighting. They looked like TV wrestlers, muscular, with beards and long hair. Both wore flowing Greek tunics, one trimmed in blue, the other in green. They grappled with each other, wrestled, kicked and head-butted, and every time they connected, lightning flashed, the sky grew darker, and the wind rose. I had to stop them. I didn't know why. But the harder I ran, the more the wind blew me back, until I was running in place, my heels digging uselessly in the sand. Over the roar of the storm, I could hear the blue-robed one yelling at the green-robed one, Give it back! Give it back! Like a kindergartner fighting over a toy. The waves got bigger, crashing into the beach, spraying me with salt. I yelled, Stop it! Stop fighting! The ground shook. Laughter came from somewhere under the earth, and a voice so deep and evil it turned my blood to ice. Come down, little hero, the voice crooned. Come down! The sand split beneath me, opening up a crevice straight down to the center of the earth. My feet slipped, and dark-ness swallowed me. I was falling." He finished.