The Bone King Chapter 1

I Cut My Best Friends ToeNails
If there is anything you'd want to know about me, I should just tell you that my life sucks. And I am not lying.

Sitting in a hot, sweaty class room is bad enough. But if you're a social outcast, with practically one friend (who never ever ever cuts his nails), a giant bully, go home to a stupid orphanage, life can get extremely, well...suckish. I guess I should have explained who I am before I talk about how much my life sucks.

I'm Daniel Castro. Just your typical 13 year-old outcast. About 6 month ago, my mom died from breast cancer. She was the best mom ever. She always gave me better. But life couldn't get better for her, as she died. Before my mom died, she'd always tell me about how awesome my dad, Hal, was. Unfortunately, he died from a gunshot in Lake Tahoe when I was 1. My mom told me that everyone thought he was bitter. She didn't. She thought that he was a polite man.

Right now, the teacher is lecturing her butt off about how math is the key to life, and without pi, we're cave men. "Can she get any more boring?" my friend, Aaron, whispers in my ear, as he jabs his nails into my shirt. Even though Aaron is my one and only friend, his real irritating. He has bear-like claws that always pierce into my skin. He never let's me concentrate whenever the teacher is talking, and he smells like a meat locker. "I don't know about the teacher, but you dorks sure get boring," Logan insults me. Logan is a sterotypical chubby bully who targets every single guy who is not on the football. Only, Aaron and I are his targets. His personality typically brings you to the extent you just may barf. He wears about a billion chains over his neck, and I'm pretty sure he wears the same pants every single day.

"Shutup, Logan," I defend myself. He walks near me, probably thinking that I just put my life on the line.

"Don't tell me what to do, punk, unless you want to die and go to the Under-"

"What were you going to say?" I ask him, suspiciously. "I-I was going to say hell," he stumbles on his words. "Why? You got a problem with hell?"

"No," I stand up, realizing that the class is gazing at me. "I have a problem with your attitude. Man, what the hell did I do to you? Nothing. So how about you leave Aaron and I alone."

"You really think you can stop me from doing what I do? Then try. But remember, I'm not gonna pay for your hospital bill," he tells me.

"Neither can your parents." That was the line. I grabbed him from his shoulders and tackle him.

"Σκύλα! Ποτέ μην μιλήσω περίπου τους γονείς μου!!" A blur goes through my head as I try to figure what I said. "Είμαι απλώς προσπαθεί να σας προστατεύσει, εντάξει!" He snapps at me. Finally the Ms. DelRosa notices that there is an all-out brawl going on in the middle of the classroom. "Enough! Stop! I said enough!" She yells. "Both of you, go to the office."

"What is your problem with me?" I ask Logan as we walk down the hallway. "Didn't you understand what I was saying?" He asks me. "Not-" Before I could finish my sentence, Aaron comes bursting down the hallway. "Yo, Dan, do you really want to spend your afternoon, hearing the principal yak?" He asks me, sounding like a TV ad. "No!" I say. "Especially not with this thing," I call Logan. "Great. Well I know an awesome escape hatch," he tell me. "Well, I wanna go, too," Logan trembles. Aaron sighs. "Fine. You can go, too." Aaron guided us to...the janitor's closet. "Alright. You guys ready?" Logan and I both nodded. When he lead us in there, I didn't see any tunnel or anything. It was a typical janitors closet with a mop, dust, toxic chemicals, and a bunch of other things that could of poisoned me. But only one of them could have killed me-Aaron. Out of nowhere (to me. Logan seemed like he saw this coming.), Aaron's body developed into what looked like a birds with hag like faces, drooping breasts, bear’s ears and clawed talons. Makes sense now. Well sort of. I still couldn't understand why he developed into this creature, how Logan seemed like he was ready, and, well, what the heck is going on! But I don't have enough time to think. All I can do is save my life. And probably Logan's. He first comes shooting itself at me, trying to stab his claws in my body. I jump to the side. Logan hands me a bronze helmet that had a silver sword on the top of it. "What the heck is this?" I yell to Logan, as Aaron gets his head out of the walls. "Can't you see?" Logan insults me. "It's a sword with a helmet, stupid! Put it on your head, and charge at the Ocypete!" I put it on my head, feeling a breath of confidence. I felt perpared, like I could take down anything. I ran towards the Ocypete, using all my might to take it down. I put my head down and ran toward it's stomach. "Ooow!" the Ocypete yelled. It fell down to the ground, but not for good. It got back up within 4 seconds. From the corner of my eye, I notice Logan, well, taking his pants off. "Whoa! Calm down, Logan! No need to take off your parents," I try reassure him. "Shutup, Castro! I'm a satyr!" He yells charging at the Ocypete. The Ocypete picks Logan up, and smashes him down to the ground. Logan doesn't get up. It doesn't even seem like he can get up which worries me. "Logan, are you okay?" I yell. "I...think I can...I'm sorry, Daniel. I only did those harsh things to-" he stops answering. "To what? Logan, answer me!" I yell.

I feel guilt inside my brain. It didn't feel right to carry on this fight while someone is dead. If people ask what happened to Logan, it's either me or the Ocypete who takes the blame. I have the urge to just cut those nails off. That gives me an idea. "Hey, doofis!" I yell to the Ocypete, as it tries to get it's head out of the wall for the sixth time. "Anyone ever try cutting your nails? Looks like I'll be the first." I put my head down, targeting at the Ocypete's nails. The nails slash down, letting the Ocypete give out a loud screech. "Oooh!" It screechs.

Once I hit down, I see the Ocypete fade away into...monster dust? I let out a breath of air, then go to see if Logan is still alive. "Logan." I shake him. I look at his hands and see them in his pockets. I reach into his pockets and see a bottle with not much of the liquid inside of it. Having Dyslexia, it takes me a couple minutes to figure out what it said. I concluded to Ambrosia. Guessing that it was some sort of medicine, (since I always saw him drink out of it after he gets a bruised eye or something.)

I take off the cap and put the liquid in his mouth. Logan opens his eyes. "Logan! You're alive. Thank god! Otherwise, I'd be responsible," I reassured myself. He still didn't look Okay. "Can you move your legs?" I ask him. "No. Listen, look for Luis Luna, mention Camp Half-," Logan stops talking. "Logan? Dude, tell me you're alive." I slap his cheek. Unsure what to do with him, I leave him there, feeling as bad as I possibly can.

After I get out of the janitor's closet, I instantly see Luis. Luis is a big jock, the same size as Damon, Casey and Juri. He has a dark brown flat top, and his skin tone is a shade or two darker than most other white students. He loves his abs, and his ability to give a nuggie and feel like there is no reason to run away.

<span style="color: rgb(213, 212, 212); font-style: normal; line-height: 18px; white-space: pre-line; background-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); ">"Luis!" I catch up to him. "Listen, Aaron turned into this 'Ocypete' and attacked Logan and I, then he smashed Logan to the ground, and I guess he died since it didn't seem like he was breathing, but he mentioned 'Camp Half-" "Half Blood," Luis says as if he was in a trans. He grabs my arm and puts me in his red "car" (to me, it's a dump with wheels). "Where are you taking me? If it's prison-" I get cut off.

<span style="color: rgb(213, 212, 212); font-style: normal; line-height: 18px; white-space: pre-line; background-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); ">"It's not prison, Daniel. It's a camp for demigods," Luis explains to me. "Camp? For demigods? Come on, dude, knock it off. Now where-"

<span style="color: rgb(213, 212, 212); font-style: normal; line-height: 18px; white-space: pre-line; background-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); ">"Here we are-Camp Half-Blood," Luis says, gazing at the camp. As Luis gets out of the car, I scoot to the front seat, and turn on the engine. The car rumbles with gas. I could feel the heat motioning around the car. I shake the keys, jab on the brakes and perpare to get back to normal life.