1: I Get Eaten By A Buffalo-Dog

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Nothing much used to happen. But that was before I figured out who I really was. What kind of danger I was in. Before my life got really messed up and my sister died. I never wanted to be this way. It's terrifying. Then I started seeing these things, and getting hurt was no longer just my clumsiness. It was them. I didn't know what they were back then but it still scared me half to death. And I have a couple friends, who also found the sanctuary that I'm staying in now. They don't like the word "friends", being the antisocials they are, but I don't mind. It gives me a chance to use bigger words.

The name's Catheryne Amare. I'm sixteen, barely. The world I see is scary. Literal monsters trying to kill me every time I turn around.

If you feel like any of this is familiar, you should close the book. Especially if you feel that dark attraction to the kinds of powers that my friends and I have. And if you are found, then try to find our little sanctuary. Once I'm done telling our story, you'll know where to go. Of course, this is all fictional and there's absolutely no way that Greek monsters exist and that I can kill someone with one touch. Even I'm not actually real (*cough* yeah right *cough*), so you don't have to worry about being killed by a dog that's larger than a small blimp.

Keep on reading, if you wish. If not, I'll understand. As I've said, it's scary to be able to see past the Mist. To see monsters for what they truly are. Now, let's start at the beginning. The youngest of us will start with her story.

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Yes, Catheryne, you can call me your "friend". It doesn't mean I'll like it. Alright, alright. On to my story. Well, my name is Elizabeth Griffiths. I was born in England, actually, but my dad took me over to the Americas because he thought it was safer. So yes, you may imagine me with a British accent, as that is what I have.

My dad and I were living in Vermont, in a small house on the edge of a city I no longer remember the name of. Dad's name was Henry Griffiths. I never knew Mum, which is actually sort of typical of a demigod. Dad always seemed sort of miserable, and I had to drag him to the doctor to get him antidepressants. One day, he just stopped taking them. It would roll around to the time of day he was supposed to and I would hear the sound of water being sucked down the ceramic bowl. I tried to get through to him but he wouldn't listen.

"Dad! What are you doing?"

"Go away, Elly. I just need some alone time."

"Last time you said that I found you half dead in a river and nearly froze to death myself!"

"I am your father, Elizabeth Harriet Griffiths! Leave me alone!"

"But Dad..."

"I said leave. Go to your room before I take away all your books."

Of course, being the bit of a bookworm I am, the notion terrified me. So I left for my room. Yes, yes, you're going to say, Oh, your dad was abusive or possibly a drug addict! Well, he was not. Dad was just depressed. He was the opposite of a drug addict, he would reject anything given to him. After a half hour, I decided to make supper for my dad, to maybe cheer him up.

Something came banging at the door, and I tensed. Absolutely no one knew where we lived. Dad was a social recluse (you can see where I got it) so he had virtually no friends. As far as I knew, he had no relatives, either.

Then someone at the door said, "Let me in, it's your Aunt Helena."

The voice was sickly sweet, and I knew for a fact that Dad did not have a sister. So, I did the smart thing. I panicked and ran to the loo, grabbing a torch (a flashlight for you Americans) just in case.

You've reached the end of published parts.

⏰ Last updated: Sep 10, 2016 ⏰

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