The Game of Life for a Demigod

The Game of Life for a Demigod

Chapter 1

Simple Logic Right?

NOTE: I didn't want to be a Half-blood, ok? Don't Go blame me if your teacher turns into a Rabid fruit bat and attacks you or if your house disintegrates as your unlocking your front door. IF your reading this for entertainment, keep reading. If your reading this because you think your one, Go right on ahead. I just won't be held responsible for what happens. If you already know your one, things are going to get a whole lot more interesting. So I would suggest finding a Satyr or run off to CHB right away. I'm not saying this is real but I'm also not saying this is Fiction either. Believe whatever you want, The choice is yours.

Don't say I didn't warn you,

"Shawn"

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''Many People Interpret life to be a battle. But, life is not a battle, it is a game. ''

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HA! If only that were true. For me, Life has always been a battle. From the big things such as Divorced parents to the little things such as Middle school Bullies. Game's are fun, Life is not. Therefore Life is not a game, Simple logic. The type of which I grew up on. The only thing that Made me think opposite of that is when I saved the world from mass destruction.'' ''

It all started when I vaporized my teacher.

My first name is none of your business, My last name is none of your business. But until I Meet you face to face, Call me Shawn. I'm 13 going on 14 last time I checked. Until several months ago, I was a student at St. Aidan's Private School in north Illinois.

Since it is a private school it covers all grades from Kindergarten all the way through 8th. The first thing that people say when they hear that is "Wow, big school." But the truth is, it's the complete opposite. There is only one teacher per grade and there is a average of 15 kids per classroom. My graduating class only has only 8.

Things didn't start going bad until 8th grade. Everything was all fine and dandy until I found out that my 8th grade teacher had a heart attack during the Summer and wouldn't be able to come back until after Winter break. So we were stuck with a Substitute teacher for half the year. Some people would say "that sucks" if they heard that. But truthfully, I was relieved.

See, the 8th grade teacher was supposed to give a ridiculous amount of homework on a daily basis. So I was kind of relieved I didn't have to put up with all of that.

Now I'm getting to the part about vaporizing my teacher.

It was a nice late August morning, The so very familiar schedule that was so very distant. Wake up, take a shower, eat breakfast, and get in the car. The so simple yet complicated routine which I practically grew up on.

I walked in the school feeling self conscious with a hint of anxiety which I couldn't understand. A light Blue Polo Tucked in with dress pants and a belt. The embarrassing dress code of which I've grown accustomed to.

I turned left into the main hallway glancing at all of the other students younger than I, they were all smiling and laughing, glad to be reunited after the long Summer. I was strangely glad to be back too. This was my second year at St. Aidan's. Before that I was going to Lady Liberty's private School, the time before that I was going to Sacagawea Elementary, and even before my parents got divorced I was going to Kennedy Elementary. Weird names right? Well they were weird schools.

I was never emotionally effected by my parents' divorce. I remember my mom explaining it to me when I was 8, I didn't shed one tear. In fact, I don't like showing my emotions at all. And no, I'm NOT emo. What I meant is I don't like showing my emotions in tense situations.

I turned right at the upper wing and entered my classroom. What I saw ran an ice cold chill from the top of my neck to the Bottom of my spine. It was an older Woman nearing her 40's, wearing a Pitch black dress, the kind of which you would wear at funeral, sitting at the teachers desk. There was nothing wrong with the picture, it was completely normal. But, something about her seemed dangerous. And, maybe it was just me but her eyes didn't seem human. They were all black. I mean not all Black, they had white on the outside, but very little.

The woman tensed and turned in my direction. Her face had an angry expression and a hint of something else I didn't recognize. Pain? No, Hunger. When her eyes found me the pupils got even larger. That's not natural I thought. Her whole entire being caught me off guard.

What caught me off guard even more was her voice. "From my understanding, your teacher wants all the students to sit in their seats as soon as they get in the classroom."

Her voice was Sweet, dangerously sweet. As if she were leading me to my death. All I could mutter was " Is Mr. Dean here?"

It was a stupid thing to say. Everyone in the school knew what happened. But I was at a loss of words and she sounded as if Mr. Dean Were here.

She had a mock perplexed look with a hint of a smirk on her lips as if there was an inside joke " If you haven't heard, Mr. Dean suffered a heart attack this Summer. He won't be back until after Winter break. Now if you didn't hear you the first time I believe I told you to sit down in your seat Mr. Wilkins."

That's odd, I didn't recall telling her my name. It annoyed me. So being the rebel I am I decided to show her who's the boss around here. "I'm sorry, I believe you didn't tell me to sit down in my seat."

She merely picked up a Clipboard and wrote a few things on it. " 3 demerits for disobeying and being a smart-aleck."

My jaw dropped "But you really didn't tell me to sit down in my seat." Which was true. She just told me that Mr. Dean would want me to sit down, not to actually sit down. Even though I Knew what she meant to begin with.

"Back talk, Mr. Wilkins? That's another Demerit." She marked it down on her clipboard.

I just simply looked at the person closest to me, who was Don, a buff African American kid in my class and gave them the Who-told-this-hag-about-demerits look. The Lady Just Marked another mark on the clipboard and said "Yet another for disobeying"

I walked to my desk without saying a word. When I got there I muttered " This is going to be a LONG year."

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