Let's Do It Again

Fuck This Shit

So I had a reviewer named God of Spelling and they said and I quote "Actually spell correctly. This story honestally sucks." First, off God of Spelling, I would like to point out you spelled honestly wrong. Moving on if my story sucks so much why did you stay to read and review? I'll be honest I don't always catch my spelling mistakes when I'm typing really fast but I don't think it okay to belittle someone else's work. I take constructive criticism but that's not constructive it's toxic. Please refrain from reviewing if you only plan on being negative. Thank you in advance and everyone else can find the replies to their reviews at the bottom.

I had long given up any thoughts of sleep. I was awoken at 4 am in a panic from nightmares of Tarturas. I spent the next few hours mulling over my horrible life while waiting for breakfast.

I was still in bed in cabin three. My body told me it was morning, but it was dark outside, and thunder rolled across the hills. A storm was brewing. The weather matched my mood perfectly after last night's fiasco and I wanted nothing more than to curl up in my cabin for the rest of the day.

I heard a clopping sound at the door, a hoof knocking on the threshold.

"Come in," I yelled irritated. How did I forget that today I would be assigned the quest?

Grover trotted inside, looking worried. "Mr. D wants to see you."

"Why?" I stared at the ceiling wondering what would happen if I failed to show up.

"He wants to kill... I mean, I'd better let him tell you."

I sighed wearily and got dressed. I was in a crappy mood and meeting with Mr.D was sure to make it worse. Never the less I followed Grover.

Over Long Island Sound, the sky looked like ink soup coming to a boil. A hazy curtain of rain was coming in our direction. It took everything in me not to scream at the sky.

Grover was watching me and glanced uneasily at the sky. "It'll pass around us. Bad weather always does."

Not this one I wanted to say. My dad and Uncle are trying to kill each other I wanted to add but I kept my mouth shut and walked.

At the volleyball pit, the kids from Apollo's cabin were playing a morning game against the satyrs. Dionysus's twins were walking around in the strawberry fields, making the plants grow. Everybody was going about their normal business, but they looked tense. They kept their eyes on the storm.

Grover and I walked up to the front porch of the Big House. Dionysus sat at the pinochle table in his tiger-striped Hawaiian shirt with his Diet Coke, as usual. Chiron sat across the table in his fake wheelchair. They were playing against wind spirits-two sets of cards hovering in the air.

"Well, well," Mr. D said without looking up. "Our little celebrity."

"It's not my fault everyone around here acts like I'm the plague," Grover who heard my muttering kicked me and Mr.D eyed warningly.

"Was that backtalk?"

"No," I said meeting his gaze.

"Come closer," Mr. D said. "And don't expect me to be nice to you, mortal, just because old Barnacle-Beard is your father."

A net of lightning flashed across the clouds. Thunder shook the windows of the house. Stike me next time, please.

"Blah, blah, blah," Dionysus said.

Chiron feigned interest in his pinochle cards. Grover cowered by the railing, his hooves clopping back and forth. We really needed to do something about all the cowering. Grover is too good to be scared of godly bullies.