Sequel to Pure Half-Blood
Starting over seemed nice: a happy, fresh start. I could move to a new town, a new school and make new friends. Anthony, the Plastics, and my transformation will be left at North Shore and I would never have to think about it again - ever. I could just be myself and be totally, one hundred percent normal. Everything would be absolutely perfect.
I case you haven’t heard of me, my name is Peyton of Olympus. My father is Zeus, king of the Greek gods. My mother is a potions professor
at Hogwarts, school of witchcraft and wizardry. I spent fourteen tedious years juggling an impossibly insane double life. Once I entered my freshman year at age fifteen, I finally abandoned my childhood at Hogwarts and Camp Half-Blood to attend a real, normal high school. I was euphoric at first, until I realized that North Shore High School was my personal hell on earth. Just last week at my very first school dance, my boyfriend Anthony, a vampire, bit me, permanently changing me into a beautiful, lethal, bloodthirsty creature. Typical teenage girl, right?
It sounds crazy, I know. I complain at no end, but it’s mostly not that bad; for someone with such a hectic life, I function relatively decently. Unlike most vampires, I am not wildly out of control with a lust for human flesh. Sure, it’s tempting beyond words, but I have the gift of restraint due to my other powers. Plus, I get a winged horse as a pet and a magic wand. There are worse situation out there, right?
Still, I never will get that normal high school experience everyone else takes for granted.
Nobody had any idea what I was going through. Every day presented a new form of torment: bullying, school transfer, mean girls. If there was any type of deity out there (higher than my father, I mean), he just sat up there, an eye in the sky, thinking ‘How can I make Peyton miserable today? Heck, let’s just make her a vampire against her will! Now what’s next?’
Well, let me tell you something: I don’t want to know what’s next! I was done. The vampire thing draws the line. I was so done with this world in which I was forced to live in every day of my life, even my after-life.
Everyone always just assumed life is perfect for me. I was a drop-dead gorgeous (literally) popular girl with a breathtakingly handsome boyfriend (although technically he didn’t breath and I’m not even sure if we’re still together). I was insecure about everything that made me different from the rest of the world. Nobody understood and absolutely nobody emphasized. I could never fit in anywhere. I was too alienated and unusual.
For a half a second, I wondered if there was a slither of hope in the midst of my life. Maybe turning sixteen really could turn my life around, and life would be okay.
I look back on that half second and laugh at my own stupidity.