The genius half-blood. Rtb/wts

I Accidentally Vaporize My Pre-Algebra Teacher

Remember I do NOT own the pjo series or the criminal minds series they belong to their respective creators I only own Estelle and her storyline nothing more nothing less, and with that said get on with reading <3

I Accidentally Vaporize My Pre-Algebra Teacher:

"How do you accidentally do that?" Spencer asked clearly confused "How do you vaporize someone?" Hotch replied clearly just as confused as spencer, both men looking to Estelle for answers.  "When it comes to Percy don't question it." was all they got.

Look, I didn't want to be a half-blood.

"I don't think any of us wanted that Percy" 

 If you're reading this because the think you might be one, my advise is: close this book right now. Believe whatever lie your mum or dad told you about your birth, and try to lead a normal life. 

Being a half-blood is dangerous. It's scary. Most of the time it gets you killed in painful, nasty ways.

Hotch, JJ, Spencer, Gideon, Elle, Derek and Penelope looked at Estelle in disbelief from what they just heard. 

 If you're a normal kid, reading this because you think it's fiction, great. Read on. I envy you for being able to believe that none of this ever happened. But if you recognise yourself in these pages - if you feel something stirring inside - stop reading immediately. You might be one of us. And once you know that, it's only a matter of time before they  sense it too, and they'll come for you. Don't say I didn't warn you.

In a chorus all the demigods minus Percy just said "You literally didn't warn any of us" 

My name is Percy Jackson. I'm twelve years old. Until a few months ago, I was a boarding student at Yancy Academy, a private school for troubled kids in upstate New York. Am I a troubled kid? 

There was a mix of "yes" and "Absolutely" through the room

Yeah. You could say that.

"Ha even you admitted it" Leo said

I could start at any point in my miserable life to prove it, but things really started going bad last May, when our sixth-grade class took a field trip to Manhattan - 28 mental-case kids and 2 teachers on a yellow school bus, heading to the Metropolitan Museum of art to look at ancient Greek and Roman stuff. I know - it sounds like torture. Most Yancy field trips were. But Mr Brunner, our Latin teacher, was leading this trip, so I had hope.

"Of ALL the names in the world he chose BRUNNER, are you kidding me?" 

"Nope, that's the name he chose." The FBI agents were confused on the importance of the name Brunner and this specific teacher but none brought it up knowing they'd find out later.

Mr Brunner was this middle-aged guy in a motorized wheelchair. He had thinning hair and a scruffy beard and a frayed tweed jacket, which always smelled like  coffee. You wouldn't think he'd be cool, but he told stories and jokes and let us play games in class. He also had this awesome collection of Roman armour and weapons, so he was the only teacher whose class didn't put me to sleep. 

I hoped the trip would be okay. At least I hoped that for once I wouldn't get in trouble. 

"Not possible Aquaman" Leo commented

"Stop calling me that, or I'll start calling you Jack-Jack"

"Sure Aquaman"

"Good we're agreed, Jack-Jack"