This story is inspired by Percy Jackson and the Olympians, Magnus Chase and the gods of Asgard, and my siblings.
Falling 5 stories to the ground is not fun, I can tell you that. From experience.
Anyway, as I was falling through the air, clothes billowing up around me, I realized that I had left the microwave on. Stupid to think about, I know, but that’s what I was thinking, hurtling through the air.
I fell into a net-like structure a meter above the ground. It cushioned my fall, but not by much. I groaned and rolled off of it, looking back to see what it was made of. I was startled to see that it was made purely of weeds growing from the sidewalk. This made the previous events look creepier, and I wondered if someone was playing tricks on me.
I looked up at the sky, and there was a big cloud covering the sun, making the world seem dark and dreary. I shivered and ran inside, back to my dorm.
To my surprise, there were people talking inside. The door was closed, but I could hear them saying, “She was clearly spooked by something. But by what?” I heard Miron’s voice through the door.
“Azazel says that she came running from the library. Is that right, Azazel?” Max’s voice sounded concerned and thoughtful.
“Yeah, but the bigger question is, where is Felicia now?” Azazel sounded like she was hiding something.
The floor creaked under my feet, and the voices stopped talking.
“Who’s there? Come in, we know you’re there!” A sound like someone getting up from a chair came from my dorm, which was weird because I didn’t have any chairs in there.
“It’s me, Felicia. What are you all doing in my room?” I responded, suspicious of what they were doing.
“WE WERE JUST LOOKING FOR YOU. COME ON IN!” Azazel sounded oddly (and loudly) relieved.
I opened the door and saw Miron in his blanketed wheelchair, Azazel on the empty bed, and Max leaning on the counter, his face pale and his hazel-blue eyes wide with worry.
“What’s happening?” I wanted to know. I knew there was something going on, and they weren’t telling me.
Max looked at his shoes, which had suddenly become interesting, and Miron shifted uncomfortably in his wheelchair. Azazel was looking everywhere but me.
“Oh, nothing. We were just worried about you and running through the hallways and not being in your room. It’s nothing. Nothing at all.” Miron half-smiled, but it never reached his chocolate-brown eyes, or the rest of his face. He looked away and cleared his throat, saying, “Well, I better get goin people to check on and whatnot.”
Miron wheeled is wheelchair past me skillfully, while awkwardly looking at me and back away again. After he left, Max excused himself to use the restroom, and Azazel walked like an Egyptian out the door while humming the song.
I spent the rest of the day worrying and trying to guess what the others were plotting. There were skid marks on the floor because I paced so much. I had grabbed ingredients from the cafeteria kitchen and baked a cake, but that didn’t help my nerves. It got worse by the second, and it just made me pace faster.
If I didn’t know Miron, I would’ve thought he made everything happen that day. Then I stopped. I didn’t know Miron, so he could’ve done it. But why would he bother the kids he was supervising? If I asked Max, he would tell me. But what if Max was behind it, too? He could be telling me lies! So could Azazel! But why would they do that? Was I imprisoned here? I needed to get out of there fast.
But what if they were protecting me from something? What if I shouldn’t leave? Argh, it was all so frustrating, talking in circles.
I flopped onto the bed, pulled the duvet up, and decided to make a decision tomorrow.
I woke up to a bell ringing, forgetting where I was for a second. Then, I remembered that I was at Camp Sparta, and I ran, jumping out of bed and rushing to get ready in time for breakfast. I threw on clothes, brushed my teeth, and shoved all my school supplies into my backpack before sprinting out the door.
I burst into the cafeteria out of breath, but Azazel and Max were nowhere to be found. I grabbed food and ate slowly, waiting for them to appear. I shoved all the toast into my mouth when another bell rang, and I cleaned up before running yet again to my classes.
Max wasn’t there when I jogged into the Environmental Science room. The teacher looked at me with metallic sky blue eyes that shone a bit too much in the light. He pointed to one of the empty desks and talked in a choppy voice.
“That will be your seat, Felicia Quackenbush. Sit, and we will begin class.”
I rushed to my seat, almost falling over when I ran into the desk. I quickly threw my backpack on the floor and sat in the chair. A few kids chuckled, but the rest remained silent, with their backs straight. I tried to keep my own posture like the other kids’, but failed after 5 minutes of the teacher’s lecture.
His name was Dr. Roberto Ezzoid, and he was our Environmental Science teacher this year. The rest of his lecture dragged on until I was saved by the bell that signaled the end of class. The whole class jumped out of their seats, like there were springs propelling them upwards, and they all flooded out of the classroom, eager to get out. I was at the end of the line through the door, and was grateful that I didn’t have to sit through anymore of his lecture.
I heard a clanging sound, and I turned around. Dr. Ezzoid bent to pick something up, and a quick flash of light showed me that it was a metal hand. As I watched, my teacher reattached it to his arm and slapped a skin-colored glove on top. He tapped his head, and electronic music came out before he started jamming to it and doing the robot.
I was stupefied, and forgot about calculus until the bell rang again, shocking me. My teacher was a robot who liked to dance to music and lecture kids.
I ran to calculus, glad that it was closer than the other rooms on the other side of the building.
I kept a watchful eye out, but didn’t see any more robotic-ish teachers. The rest of my classes were boring, but the only interesting thing was the fact that Max and Azazel were nowhere to be seen.
As the end of lunch came around, I was getting really suspicious of them. I knew that Max and Azazel had the talent class with me. I ran to Literature, and Max was standing with the teacher, explaining something to her.
I cautiously stepped in, trying to make out what they were saying, but it was like they were talking in a different language.
Then I realized that they were talking in another language. All I know was that it sounded Greek to me.
I gave up, sitting down and taking out my Literature sketchbook and folder. Once Max sat down, the teacher got up from her desk and looked at the class with her two black eyes that melded into her pupils like oil.
“To begin, pull out your textbooks to page four-hundred-eighty-two. Felicia, you will have to catch up quickly.” The teacher said in a neutral tone. She handed me a textbook that looked like it weighed at least a few tons, and strolled back to the front of the room.
I quickly flipped to the page and tried to pay attention, but I kept looking back at Max, who never looked back, even though every time I looked at the teacher, I could feel his piercing gaze on me.
I sat uncomfortably for the rest of class, unable to pay attention. I sat through it, and was almost about to call it quits when the bell rang.
Thank goodness, I thought.
As I rushed to pack up and shove everything back into the bag, including the textbook, Max seemed to disappear. Was he trying to avoid me on purpose?
After I got to the Gym, the teacher was already taking attendance. I hurried to stand by the others as he called my name.
“Fee-lee-chia Quack-y-and-bush” I tried to avoid cringing as the professor pronounced my name wrong.
“I’m here.” I tried not to sound annoyed, but it didn’t work.
The teacher raised his eyebrow at me and didn’t bother introducing himself. He briefly explained what we were doing, then separated us into groups.
We were supposed to “show off our skills for our group”, whatever that’s supposed to mean. I was put in a group with people who introduced themselves as Brianne, Mark, Patricia, Beatrice, and Sebastien. The guy named Mark demonstrated what we were supposed to do, which was an interesting combination of dance moves and a small gust of wind blowing our hair against our foreheads.
“Zephyrus” Was the one word he said before he sat down. I stared at him, gobsmacked until the next person stepped up.
Brianne went, then Sabastian, Beatrice, and Patricia. They all went the same way, but they all did something different.
Brianne raised her hands and made golden pounds erupt out of the ground. She said, “Plutus.” Sebastien snapped his fingers, and I started to doze off. The events of yesterday night must’ve been getting to me. When I woke up from the daze, he smiled and said, “Morpheus.” Beatrice stepped up confidently and picked up a nearby stack of foldable tables. she twirled it on her fingers, and as I was stunned, she came up and said, “Kratos.” Patricia looked at me and pulled out a map of the Camp. She pointed out certain spots, labeling them as attack, defense, and supplies. She used fancy terms and planned out a whole battle in case we went under attack. We sat as she finished her speech. She said, “Athena” and sat down.
The rest of my group looked at me, and I figured that it was my turn. I stood and shifted awkwardly on my feet.
“Um, hi. My name is Felicia. Um… I don’t know what my special skill is… Um, unless baking counts?” I stood there for a while before someone else came over to me.
Patricia wrapped an arm over my shoulder and started asking random questions.
“What is your favorite movie? Song? Hmmn… What is your family like? Have any strange things happened recently?” She was rapidly asking questions, all of them flying out of her mouth. I tried to answer all of them, but only ended up saying, “The Secret Garden…They’re nice…Um, yeah a few things happened.”
Patricia stopped and asked, curiously, “What things?”
“I fell from the balcony, and…um…I was caught, so it’s not a big deal. I’m… fine.” I was scared they’d ask more, but they did anyway.
“What were you caught by?” Sebastien was in it now.
“Um…Just a net underneath my balcony.” I answered, internally freaking out.
“Was it made of anything out of the ordinary?” Brianne scooted forward in her chair.
“Um…No…Not really…Kind of…Yes.” I sighed, defeated. They weren’t going to let me go.
“What was it made of?” Mark was the fourth person to ask me.
“Just…plants?” I tried to recall it, but it was a little hazy. Why was it made of plants and not cake? That would’ve been softer.
Sorry. I got a little off-track there.
Beatrice got up and started jumping up and down excitedly and shouted, “That’s so cool! Do you know what that means, Patricia?”
“Yes, in fact, I do. It means—”
She was cut off from her sentence when everyone gasped. A ray of sunlight was opened in the gym when something crashed to the floor.