Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson and the Olympians.

Let me get this straight; I'm weird. Not in a humor or personality type of way, I am legitimately weird. I'm a living anomaly, so to speak. Most demigods are as well, but you can call me a living demigod anomaly.

The name is Tracy Dere. Not pronounced like 'derrr' or 'deary'. Gods know I hate that. I like deer. Yes, that's how you pronounce it. Never call me Tracy Deary. It's happened before, and, let's just say, it didn't work out well for either of us.

Demigods… Oh yes, I'm a demigod. Don't believe me? Fine. Stop reading. Shut it. Leave the room. Return this. It's better if you do. Forget about me and focus on your current life and pretend this never happened.

I'm not going to be like Percy and warn you if you feel this life is yours to shut the book. That's stupid because it won't work anyway. We will find you, and, as creepy as that sounds, it's better if you are found. Your life will be managed correctly and maybe you'll actually survive.

Here we go. Once you get past this chapter, your life can and will be change. It will probably be turned upside down. Now that you're here, don't shut it. This is important to learn and Chir- er, Mr. Brunner – chose Percy Jackson, son of Poseidon, and I to write down our life to show you how it is in our world.

When I was about a week old, my mother, Hecate, was told by lord Zeus to let me go. Unusual, correct? In the demigod world, a goddess had to give up her children in a certain amount of time. Otherwise, she'd be breaking the Ancient Laws and it could mean death for her child.

My mother was approaching the two week mark, the time allotted in the Ancient Law. Zeus warned her of her deadline, to which she severely disrespected Zeus' gigantic pride. She told him I was important, more important than him and… certain other things.

Zeus was not happy. He refused to curse me because he felt it was below himself to curse a child of a minor god. My mother was not pleased. She was joyful I wasn't cursed, but her pride had been damaged. She challenged Zeus to curse me. Of course, Zeus couldn't back down from a challenge. He cursed me, but not in the way expected.

My mother finally relinquished me back to my father, who was generally a kind man. Even though over-aged for being a father, at the age of forty-five, he made sure to discipline me. I was his pride and joy, center of his love and attention. He loved me, his son. He drilled into me a good work ethic and a will to succeed. Even with my ADHD and dyslexia, I performed well in school. I was a gifted student, yet I could never cross the threshold into an elite learner.

One day, at the young age of seven, my father, by then fifty-two years old, was diagnosed with brain cancer. He required surgery. My father had employment, but he was by no means rich. He preferred to help others and give out money to the needy. He couldn't afford the surgery and any organizations he contacted couldn't help.

I don't regret what my father did. He was an amazing man. He needed money and he could get it a certain way. He could cure himself with the surgery. He managed to sell me to a family in a wicked form of adoption.

In a blink of an eye, I was sent to a young couple. They were rich and successful, but they didn't care much for me. Within a year of arriving, I tried running away. I almost succeeded, had it not been for my sloppy handiwork

By the time I was eight years old I was an underwear model. It was very… awkward during photo shoots. Let's just say I still regret that career choice. I was not happy with my life and I had an incredulous idea growing in my head.

I came home from school one day. I am not sure exactly what happened. All I know is I performed a sacred Greek ritual of magic, inviting dark Greek spirits into the home.

I must have left home. When I finally came to, I was outside in the dark, standing. I was around an area I knew, so I sprinted back to the house. The house was enveloped in shadows and purple glow illuminated the home every so often. I was afraid to enter and it's probably better I hadn't. Screams of my adopted parents echoed along the neighborhood, filling me with a sense of dread.

I collapsed outside as people filtered out of their home. They seemed to see a fire, not the dark magic I saw. The 'fire' stopped abruptly and the screaming stopped. In that moment, I realized I had done something terribly wrong; I had murdered two innocent people.

So guys. The updated version of the first chapter, yay! I know, I have other stories to finish, and I PROMISE I will have the next chapter to One Quest up sometime this weekend/Monday. Anyway, hope you enjoyed this. I already am almost finished with the second chapter.