Perissa Trotter and the Game of Truths

Chapter 1: The Role of the Supernatural in my Life

To say that I never felt special would be the greatest lie of my life. Yes, I've had the worst luck so far in terms of family affairs, school grades and generally staying alive, but sometimes, just sometimes, something would happen that could only be explained by the most bizarre and incredible justifications.

And by that I don't mean the time when I was seven and locked myself in the bathroom flooding everything and Aunt Prudence saw leaks coming out from the door, kicks it down and finds me completely dry with no water on whatsoever.

Now that didn't go down well. Neither of us could explain anything but I got grounded for ten days. I get the blame for everything, see. Uncle Hubert and Aunt Prudence never seemed to take to me when I came to their doorstep asleep aged one after my parents died. I suppose they must have hated them and that I resemble them in some irritating way. I knew for the longest time that if I ever wanted an answer the a quadry in my life, it was up to me to figure it out.

 Upon observing overtime that my cousin Donald looks a lot like Aunt Prudence and myself, I deduced that one of them must have been Aunt Prudence's brother or sister. Of course, Aunt Prudence herself never accounted anything about this. Both her and her husband despise me asking questions, especially about my parents. They never even told me their names (but I rummaged through old family records when they weren't looking and found out hey were Dougal and Elizabeth Trotter).

Where was I? Oh, yes! Bizarre and incredible events! Now let me see... There was this one time, the day of my eleventh birthday during the half-term holidays. I was expecting the usual rubbish from my guardians like old socks or some sort of broken trinket followed by a secret present from Donald and my friends at school. I recieved these as well out of pure routine. This year the presents were the new King Cone novels by H.P. Drunkyard (a childhood classic), a silver headband which I had to hide from Aunt Prudence (who likes "safekeeping" any jewellery I receive) and a set of foundation which I never used.

Someone remind me later, I'll come back to that last one.

No, what was unusual were in fact the cards.

We odd and incomprehensible British folk, for some excrutiating reason, love sending cards as means of holiday greeting or congratulation. If you ask me, I'd say it's time-consuming, paper wasting and ridiculously bizarre (not as bizarre as what happened on this day, but I still don't get it). Christmas cards, birthday cards... in other countries they're happy with presents because you just don't know what to put on paper! Believe me, I've been there enough times.

"To Perissa on your birthday. Happy Birthday?" I read out loud. Donald pretended to laugh to amuse his parents.

"Lots of hugs and kisses, Kevin?" I screeched. Kevin was this kid who didn't seem to get that you pass the age where it's okay to send friends "hugs" and "kisses" without starting rumours. There was nothing going on between us, I swear!

This time Donald really was laughing.

I continued in a hurried manner. "Love... birthday... birthday... love... birthday..." But I got to one that was, get this, literally orange and wax sealed that read "Department of Olympus, Empire State Building, New York City, NY. To Perissa Trotter, 16 Underhill Avenue, Godalming, Surrey. This came all the way from the US?" I hesitated. I'd never been to the US in my life. Why would someone write to me from there?

Aunt Prudence gave a slight squeal and looked as if she were about to feint. Uncle Hubert gave a nervous laugh and snatched the letter from my hands.

"Must have been a joke," he sniggered putting the orange envelope in the recycling. For once I agreed with him. Who could it have been, Hermes? I mean, really?

But that was just the beginning of the role of the supernatural in my life.