I Felt Like One Of Apollo's Sacred

My Name Is Percy Jackson. I'm Twelve Years Old. Until A Few Months Ago, I Was A Boarding Student At Yancy Academy, A Private School For Troubled Kids In Upstate New York. Am I A Troubled Kid? Yeah. You Could Say That.

And Of Course I'm In The Press All The Time. So Many Books Have Been Written About Me; Into Thin Air, Up In The Air,gone With The Wind-

My Modus Operandi Hasn't Really Changed That Much From When I Was An English Teacher. I Wanted My Students To Leave My Classroom Loving Reading And Wanting To Read More, And If They Left My Classroom Thinking That Reading Is Boring, Then I Haven't Done My Job.

Just Tell Me, Percy, Do You Still Have The Birthday Gift I Gave You Last Summer?" I Nodded And Pulled Out My Camp Necklace. It Had A Bead For Every Summer I'd Been At Camp Half-blood, But Since Last Year I'd Also Kept A Sand Dollar On The Cord. My Father Had Given It To Me For My Fifteenth Birthday. He'd Told Me I Would Know When To "spend It," But So Far I Hadn't Figured Out What He Meant. All I Knew That It Didn't Fit The Vending Machines In The School Cafeteria.

Jumping Out A Window Five Hundred Feet Above Ground Is Not Usually My Idea Of Fun. Especially When I'm Wearing Bronze Wings And Flapping My Arms Like A Duck.