Set in between Sea of Monsters and Titan's Curse. I love the book, and most of all....GROVER AND PERCY FOREVER!!

A word, before we begin.

I'm Percy Jackson, and I'm thirteen at the moment – my first tumble into what my mother tells me is the rockiest road of anyone's life: adolescence. Especially for her – whenever she tells me tales of her childhood, I am always awe-struck; her past and my past are so different, and hers is always more appealing for me to listen to.

My past is cool too, don't get me wrong. Only, if I told any mortal about it, they'd just be like "okay, yeah, sure" and I'd have wasted my breath after all. No mortal could believe that I'd had an encounter with Charbydis, or Scylla, or Zeus or Circe or Medusa or Cyclopes…

But my past, for me, was too painful to think about. Not that anything bad had happened, no, but I just spent half my time thinking about my father. My grand, godly, awesome father. He's Poseidon, you know. Another thing a mortal would never believe – I mean, when I first found out that the gods still existed, I refused to believe it. Until I actually realized I was with some godly people at the time, people who seemed to have materialized from my textbook knowledge to real life. Take Chiron, camp activities co-ordinator for Camp Half-Blood for example; I blurted my belief of no gods to his face, and he turned out to be an immortal centaur dude. Another thing mortals won't believe.

I quite liked the view of the sea from here. It was quite beautiful. Sea was my homeland – I was most powerful there, or with Riptide. Only this year, possibly a month ago had I claimed my territory there, having ventured deep into the Bermuda Triangle/ the Sea of Monsters (explains the disappearances, doesn't it?) to seek out Grover, one of my best friends, and also the Golden Fleece (which would cure Thalia's poisoned tree, where her spirit had been amassed).

Only, the Fleece worked its magic too well. Thalia had been brought back to life.

Not that it's a bad thing. I'd learnt to quite like Thalia – in the person sense I mean, not the like like but the you're-a-cool-person-wanna-be-my-friend like. She was like a punk-Goth person, and she had an amazing personality. She and Annabeth got along pretty well, I suppose, since Annabeth was the one to nurse Thalia as soon as the Fleece made her come alive.

I just needed rest. What with the Fleece magic being an advantage to us and Kronos (evil Titan guy), I didn't know how to think or what to do. Quite frankly, term hadn't ended as of yet at Camp Half-Blood – but Chiron had escorted me to my mother, as she was worried ever since the Cannibalistic monsters from Meriwether Prep had caused me, Annabeth and Tyson (who later I found was a half-brother of mine and a Cyclops). My mother had hugged me and insisted that Chiron and I stray for a while.

I loved being with her, I did.

But my knew communication with the sea had made me hell bent on brooding over my father – was he nice? Did he once like me? What had caused my godly father to leave? At least my mortal mother was strong enough. At least she had the strength to raise me.

Don't get me wrong; I'm not Hermes. I'm not a thief. I'm the son of Poseidon, the sea god, and not one of Hermes, god of messengers and thieves. But I had to do it.

Sometimes, curiosity pushes you over the edge.

And I mean come on – I really wanted to know about my father and his relationship with mom. It's any kid's dream to see the true colours of his dad.

So, with the pretext of searching for a bag of blue candy she had in her wardrobe which she allowed me to search for and eat, I readily and hungrily started to search. Not for the candy, no, I was full of it for the moment (ever heard of toffee and jelly snake mixture filled pancakes with strawberry n maple syrup on top?). Instead, I was looking for something…

Found it! The thought had alerted every neuron in my body. It was as if they all heard the news and were tingling in anticipation, making me shiver with them. The pink, fluffy colour was so feminine, it was hard to miss.

The same pink fur covered book, a perfect square and yet as large as an IGCSE Physics Textbook (and very thick too) sat in my lap, held by one of my hands. I traced the silver, jutting "S" embedded in the pink and moved my finger in her writing to the "A"….

At the same moment, it occurred to me that only some time ago, I had been tracing the same type of silver, glitter glued "P" and then "O" and then "S" on a similar furry blue cover.

Thank the gods, Hermes and I were on good terms. Thank the gods that he had returned to me not too long back, carefully handing the blue book to me, previously disguised as a useless goblet and scattered uselessly in one of the drawer's of the sea god's chests.

The door burst open and I scrambled from my bed in the Poseidon cabin, back from mom's a week ago (though I had to go back in a month or too). My head snapped around to see who it was, and cricked in the process. It was light, possibly eight in the morning on a Saturday, so I could see just the silhouette of the person who had barged into the cabin, where only I slept, seeing as Tyson was out at sea. Between the pouring light, I could make out messy hair, weird goat like legs and a hint of horns protruding from the hair.

Behind him trailed a girl, a girl growing up to be gorgeous – her long hair flowed in the light and she clutched her gown. Still, the way in which she walked – sharp and hyperactively, told me it was Annabeth. And beside her, Grover.

She ran in and sat down on the foot of my bed, followed by Grover who plopped down comfortable beside me, resting on my protruding pillow.

"So, where is it?? I wanna read it!!"

Never seen her this excited, never. After all, her life had been so miserable, seeing her this happy lifted a lot of load off my shoulder, But why should she care about my parents?

Grover was curious too, he lifted the blue godly book from under my pillow and caressed it.

They were looking at me, and they knew what was going on. Poseidon and Sally Jackson had kept it all a secret from the world, except for me and a few others. And now, it was time to open their hearts, to search their souls and to delve into their minds. I was dyslexic, I know, but maybe it was with age – I knew I could read properly now. And yet, I let Annabeth read. I passed the pink one – my mother's outlook would get us to the point.

Annabeth unlocked the book, and lifted aside the cover, and the first page that greeted her contained of one photo – that of a handsome man with stunning black hair and striking green eyes. She lingered, as my pupils dilated in recognition, but then turned the page, and hit the large window of writing, and started to read.

"Dear Diary".