The Child of Hecate: The Arising Oracle

Chapter One: The Lamest Introduction Ever

HELEN

My name is Helen Everly. I am 16 years old, and in Grade 12. This is the story of how I found out about Camp Half-Blood and my dangerous death expeditions that involve nearly dying, like, every second, and... yeah. Basically it. Did I mention the almost dying part?

Everyday, I walked as usual to a school called Wendy Girls' Institute, which was made out of painted light caramel stone. It was mighty and impressive-looking, with dark brown wood-framed windows separated by three metre gaps on each of the four-storeys. Two swirled caramel-stone pillars stood in front of the same dark wood doors. The circulating spirals grew thicker on the top, which was painted metallic gold instead of cream like the rest of the building. It was a boarding school, so I don't have to worry about my obnoxious father, William Everly. My mother... I didn't know her, and my handsome but regal and rude dad refused to tell me anything about my parentage whenever I asked.

Today was no different. As I waked up, drearily rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I stretched from my bed and tried to persuade my eyes to open. I didn't like this school, which was unusual for me. I love math and art and geometry and architecture and history, and adore literacy even more. Reading, writing, spelling, whatever. I was up to the task.

But this school was unexplainably different. Part of the reason was that it's so strict. Seriously, just not have your collar folded in you get a free ticket to detention! You be late more than once a week? Face a week of detention! If you miss a day of school without any reason but to just chill, you get a meeting with the principal and get to be called up in assembly, then get pointed out all your faults and the whole school is forced to laugh at you. The principal then puts you in detention for a month.

Detention, detention, detention!

The second reason... my teacher and classmates seemed sorta weird. Thankfully no one in my dorm seemed odd, but for example Cara Whitlock always gave me a creepy smile every time I walk into the classroom, tries to follow me all the time without me noticing and telling her to back off. And one time, Cara even tried to corner me at the cafeteria in the corner where the toilet door is. Then a teacher came in, his look kind of glazed, and told Cara to back off. She went away snarling, muttering about... flesh and blood.

I didn't recall exactly what she had said until I really thought about it. Even now it seemed kind of fuzzy. With a new feeling of fear tingling up and down my spine, I got changed neatly into the proper uniform.

The uniform for Wendy Girls' Institute was a dark green knee-length dress with a white-edged collar, with long elbow silk gloves and leggings that were both white. In silver thread, the school symbol, a type of star between star coat of arms, was printed on my left breast. For jackets, we've got old-school style cloaks that were the same dark green edged in white at the bottom. The hood was comfy, but I don't like dresses. Or gloves. End of story.

As I finished changing, I pulled open my white curtain that hid my green-blanketed sheets and pulled my green backpack open. It was really small, only about 25 centimetres tall and 15 wide and had the school symbol on the front pocket and gold zips.

As I waited for my best (read: and only) friend, Akari Yadav, to pack her stuff in her backpack, I started to ponder all the bad things that had happened to me over the years. Shady man patrolling me in Grade 3 at the playground. A bunch of other depressing things that my ADHD brain did not like to think of.

Oh, wait, I forgot to mention that I'm ADHD. Great.

I brushed my long curly black hair and secure it in a neat ponytail (I do NOT want to get detention) and green ribbon. I watched Akari with the mirror in the bathroom. She was coming in to brush her teeth. 

Akari was a definite perfectionist. Her hair just comes up neat, and she's so positive it's like all the disgusting, deadly bits of the world suddenly seem like paradise. Akari has stunning amber irises, like a mixture of gold and brown, curly dark hair that's almost black and pale skin. She looks entirely different to me.

I have straight waist-length black hair, hazel eyes, like a mixture of brown, green and gold, and an olive complexion. The only similarities we've got are long, similar-coloured hair and a bit of orangey-gold in our irises. 

 I walked with Akari to class. We both groan as we enter the classroom. It's got maple American wooden floorboards and pale green walls, and a purely neat white, white whiteboard at the front with a little oak desk in front of it. The desks and chairs are white, and stained with colours. 

And up the front was me and Akari's least favourite, worst teacher ever. Mrs Byron. And she was NOT smiling. And up on the board was seven-digit long division. Nooo!