****Completed October 10, 2018**** ❝ Scott's chair moaned as he leaned forward. I felt his warm breath tickle my ear as he spoke in a whisper, "Do they see you too?" He was asking if I was dead-a ghost. Oh my god, he could see me. He could see me, and I was a ghost. If my heart could beat, it would've been going a thousand miles a minute. ❞ 🎃✖️🎃✖️🎃 Sam died. She was murdered one cold October night in 1994, simply because she was in the wrong place at the wrong time. But somehow, she hasn't quite left yet. A ghost, seemingly invisible to the world around her, stuck with the task of piecing together why she was murdered and who was her killer. With the help of her new friend Scott, they'll discover the truth and the real plot that could potentially devastate not only their small town, but life as we know it.

A fanfic in which your favorite son of Poseidon and son of Jupiter go on an absolutely no homo roadtrip from Camp Jupiter to Camp Half-Blood. <><><><><> So! I thought this would be a fun project, since I'm so head over heels for the PJO and HoO series. I've been reading the books since I was eight, and twelve years later I'm still just as in love with the characters. Hope you guys like the story, and it'd be so appreciated if you left a comment and vote! I'll post as often as I can💜

Almost everyone caught the Sickness at some point. There was less than 5% of the human race left unchanged by it. Isaac Finch was one of those people. It was a complete medical mystery. It effected everyone differently. It gave his sister horns, his dad now grows plants all over his body, and his best friend has the skin of a serpent. No one knew how to stop it, so all they could do was learn to live with it. Life was going alright. He and his best friend were in a two-man rock band growing in popularity. He finally worked up the courage to ask out the girl he'd been crushing on since elementary school. And graduation was only so far away. Isaac managed to make it all the way to senior year before it finally got him. The Sickness developed in him overnight, covering his skin with words, whether heartfelt or cruel, and only he understood what they meant. These were his thoughts, right out of his head and onto his skin like tattoos. No matter how hard he tried to keep them covered up, people would stare. Their eyes always followed him, always cruel and judging. He couldn't escape them. This was his curse, and he couldn't help feeling like he somehow deserved it.

****Completed January 22, 2019**** A bunch of "the signs as..." written by me