I blinked up at a wooden ceiling, dusty and worn.
"What?" I said bluntly, my mind not really registering what was going on.
I closed my eyes tightly. My throat itched. I wanted water.
What was I doing here? Where was I? Am I dead? What's happening?
What's my name?
Right. My name. That was a good place to start.
Gradually, I began coming to terms with what was happening. My name was Willow Redmond. I live in Massapequa, Long Island, with my dad. I have my two best friends, Vlad and Julia. Two Rottweilers. I've got ADHD and Dyslexia.
Oh, yeah. And my demon gym teacher tried to eat me.
My life made perfect sense.
The world around me seemed to be a blur, as I was only just able to think properly. Hell, I couldn't even remember my middle name.
Groaning, my eyes fluttered open, and I began to work on understanding what was going on. There was a boy next to me. I realized he was saying something; talking. I should recognize him, shouldn't I?
But his words. They were just sounds to me, mixing in with the incomprehensible mumbo-jumbo timey-wimey stuff that was already scrambling my brain. He looked at me expectantly.
Right. I had to say something.
"...What?"
Vlad groaned.
Vlad! Vladimir Dodge-that was his name. Duh. How could I forget what Vlad looked like?
"Oh, thank the gods! You had me so worried, you idiot. What were you thinking, attacking that manticore like that!"
"Um..." I stalled. Dammit, brain, work! "I... thought it was being dicky...?" I concluded, scratching my head.
I face palmed, retaining a blank expression. Dammit, I was an idiot.
"Well, you're not wrong." Vlad huffed, leaning back into his chair. His default grin spread across his face. "Welcome to Camp Half-Blood, Willow. Prepare to be blown away."
"Camp what?" I croaked, still recovering from whatever the hell went down at my school.
Vlad turned away from me, facing a polished wood door which was a few beds away. "CHIRON!" he called, nearly causing me to jump out of my skin.
"Ow, you little dickwad!" I yelped, nursing my temples.
Vlad let out a small apologetic smile, before reaching over to my wooden bedside table. What kind of hospital was this? It was like a cabin.
He leaned over and grabbed a small glass of iced coffee which I hadn't noticed.
"Drink this. It'll make you feel better." he said, handing it to me.
At that moment, I heard what sounded like hooves clopping in the distance. I ignored it.
"I don't see how some stupid coffee is supposed to make me feel better," I grumbled, frowning as I peered down into the glass.
"Doctor's orders," Vlad said, "though I doubt it'll cure your stupid."
I gave him a menacing glare before bringing the glass to my mouth. I was quite suprised by the outcome.
I could've sworn that I was drinking my father's sugar cookies-- I mean, I normally wasn't a fan of sugar cookies, but my dad made them the best.
I mean, the ice hadn't even melted. Whatever- I was probably still high off the morphine, or whatever else, the doctor must've given me.
