The Adventures of Atlanta Johnson: The Gods Revenge!

Chapter 1: Homeschool turns dangerous

My mother and I had just begun the lesson that would end my year of seventh grade. I hadn't stayed in my new private school for long. I'd blown up the nurses station when the assistant turned into a drakon and tried lighting me on fire. My mother was sick of public schools, and there wasn't any other private schools in the area, so she decided to homeschool me. It was going pretty well until the day came.
"What does x equal if 7x=70?" My mother asks pointing at the problem on her laptop from the online math assignment.
"10?" I guess using my mental math brain.
"Correct" she smiles.
I type the problem in and try scrolling down. It won't move.
"Am I done?" I stare at my mother, gallons of hope in my gaze.
Her hands grasped my shoulders, "You are officially done with seventh grade. Congratulations Atlanta."
"Finally!" I clap the table, a slight laugh in my voice.
We hugged and laughed, then she told me something that excited me more.
"Let's go pack for camp now."
Camp Half-Blood was my favorite place on earth. From the amazing lakes to the super fun activities. My friend Harmony and I started there last summer. Our friend Andy started with us too, but let's not talk about that.
I hadn't heard from Harmony in months. She went on a top secret mission at the end of last summer. Nobody knew where she went, besides the Olympians.
I hoped she was okay.
When my mom and I entered my small cozy room, my eyes immediately swept around it, like they always did.
The walls were black and turquoise, with a single white stripe in the middle of all four walls. It was decorated by all the DIYs I did over the school year. A grey balloon string lined the ceiling in a full circle. Several mason jars with candles were littered around the room. A glimmering gold chandelier was hanging dazzlingly from the middle of the ceiling. My small, black and white bed was partnered with a short, beige nightstand. My dresser was white with gold knobs, and a sparkly mirror was pinned to the wall above it.
My eyes then drifted to my nightstand, where a shiny pen lay inside my cup of pens and pencils.
I walked over, and grabbed it tightly. Anaklusmos was engraved deeply on the side.
Riptide. My mind replayed.
I'd gotten the pen last summer, when Percy Jackson, -my older brother- decided to give it too me to help my fighting.
When uncapped, the pen grew into three feet of sharp, and shiny celestial bronze.
It was the only weapon I know that's balanced.
Oh, in case you didn't know, I'm a daughter of Poseidon, and I'm a demigod.
Now that that's out of the way, I put my pen down and grabbed my Adidas bag from the closet.
There was a knock at the door, my mom looked up.
"I got it, start packing Atlanta."
She stepped out and I folded and packed some clothes into the bag. I had just about finished when I heard her scream.
"Mom?" I said, alarmed.
I grabbed my pen. (Don't ask) and ran out towards the living room.
A large man was just closing the door, my mom under his arm in a headlock. I gulped.
The man was six feet tall, red with rage, and bulky. I thought he was Ares at first, and that would've been bad. But the man wasn't as tall, mysterious, and war like. Defiantly not as war like.
"Hey kid, put that pen down before I do it for ya." He spat, pointing a finger at me.
"Why? It's just a pen." I replied dumbly, trying to trick him.
He grabbed his hand axe, -which I hadn't noticed until then- from his metal belt. "Put it down."
"Atlanta do it." My mother gargled, struggling to breath in the man's grip.
I flipped the cap off my pen with my thumb, and the sword grew out.
"I won't drop mine, but you can drop yours." I shot back, a slight smirk forming on my face.
The man swallowed, clearly threatened, but he didn't back down.
He dropped my mom, who slammed against the floor and started gasping for breath. The man took a step towards me.
"One on one kid. If I win, you come with me. If you win, I'll leave. Deal?"
I nodded quickly, and thrust my sword forward, narrowly missing the front of his shoulder. Luckily, my mother helped me practice, sword against spatula. I'd gotten pretty good at it.
He sidestepped, and raised his axe above his head. His axe was so heavy, he stumbled backwards, and when he sliced down, it was rather weak. I blocked easily.
He pulled back, obviously knowing this wasn't a fight worth fighting, and whistled.
A ringing, so high pitched all dogs in the city would of heard it, blasted my ears. The windows shattered, and a bird that really wasn't a bird, flew through.
I ducked, barely missing it's sharp gray talons. I tossed my sword upwards, almost like a dagger, and cut clean off its left wing. It yelped, and spun out onto the floor. It turned to dust.
I pulled my sword out of the floor where it had landed, and turned back to the man. He was pale as a ghost.
"You just- Wha- You killed it?" He stammered, pointing back and forth between me and the pile of ash.
I threw my sword up, it twirled and landed perfectly in my hand again.
"Wanna be next?" I smirked.
I stepped forward, and disarmed him. He hadn't been paying attention, so I saw the opportunity.
His axe clattered against the cabinet behind him. I hit my sword point against his chest, leaving a cut.
"I'd leave if I were you." I said, dangerously calm.
He scattered out tripping over the chair in the living room. He left his axe behind him.
I walked over and picked up the axe. I laid it on the table.
My mom walked over to me her eyes wide with surprise.
"Nice going Atlanta but we should leave before he comes back."
"Good idea." I agreed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I'm really sorry you guys. This has been a terrible week for me. I had so much on my mind I haven't had time to work on this at all. I really hope you guys forgive me. I'll try and work harder this time. thank you guys for reading this I hope you guys like it. Thank you guys.

~Jillian