𝑻𝒘𝒐 𝑺𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑺𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝑪𝒐𝒊𝒏 | 𝑴𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒖𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝑬𝒓𝒂

Can Someone Give Me A Round of Applause For My Acting Skills, Please?

Disclaimer: I'm pretty sure I wasn't alive when Harry Potter was written, so it's quite obvious I don't own that. As for Percy Jackson, do I look like a 56-year old male that makes people laugh really hard and then, two seconds later, makes them sob for two hours straight? No? That's correct. I don't own Percy Jackson either.

Hiya!

My name is Audenzia! Audenzia Blazen to be exact! But y'all can call me Zia.

I'm a daughter of Hermes. Yeah, that's right. The Greek god of thieves, merchants, gambling, speed, agility, and a gazillion other awesome things is my dad. Yep, I'm a demigod.

But... my mom's a witch (both literally and figuratively), so I'm also a witch! (For the muggles reading this, no, I do not have green skin and warts. That would be my mom. She has warts naturally and green skin right now because I put green dye in her soap when I snuck into her flat before leaving for the train.)

So that makes me a... demi-witch! Dun. Dun! DUUUUUUUN!!!!!

A little bit about my mom. She's, well... not the greatest mother in the world. I lived at Camp Half-Blood for two years and this summer, I came by to visit her and turns out, she completely forgot she even had a daughter in the first place! What a lovely mother she is! I should get her one of those mugs that say 'World's Greatest Mom!' on the cover. NOT. Her job is Aurologist; a person who studies auras. Her job doesn't pay much that way. I honestly can't believe she quit her amazing job in America and moved us to England for this job of all things! Before I started living at Camp (I've been going to camp for the summer since I was seven), she wouldn't do anything for me. She wouldn't buy me clothes or food, heck, she didn't even buy me a bed! I made my living by stealing and gambling. It worked out very well! I got a full meal, nice clothes, a bed, everything a ten-year-old needed. Yes, I was gambling at the age of ten. Don't judge me!

But then, my mom got a boyfriend, Shane. He was awful! He was extremely cruel and would always find some way to insult me. He never actually hit me (yet) but the verbal abuse sucked. He would do it in front of my mom too, yet she never stopped him. Just sat back and watched like we were a mildly interesting TV show. Then, my mom decided that we would be moving into Shane's flat since she is really clingy. I put up with it until I was thirteen. I was about to enter my fourth year at Hogwarts. Shane came stumbling into our flat really drunk and punched me in the stomach and the face. He broke my jaw. With tears in my eyes, I Floo- Traveled to Camp Half-Blood after grabbing some things and I've stayed there ever since. Camp Half-Blood is definitely more of a home than anywhere that I was living with my mom.

So, yeah. There's some of my tragic backstory you all were probably dying to hear. Every hero has one.

My story begins on a Tuesday, September 1st, at Kings Cross Station. I had already grabbed a cart- I mean trolley (Brits give things the weirdest names!)- and I lug all of my luggage onto it. Then, I decide to put my plan into action. Over the summer, I had a random shower thought. Or was it a toilet thought since I was peeing at the time...? Ya know what! I don't care! The toilet thought was WHAT IF... I keep my eyes open when passing through the barrier to get to Platform 9 3/4? What would I see? I'm pretty sure every closes their eyes on instinct when running at a very solid looking wall. I know I have. So, I thought, why not keep them open? What would I see?

I see the wall come into sight and I race towards it. I have to stop though, quickly too; my tires give a loud screech when I stop them so suddenly because if I hadn't, I would have run over this old lady with a big feathery hat and a Yorkie. The old lady gives me a look that said What the Hades is wrong with you?! and I open my mouth to apologize, but a familiar voice that brings back so many bad memories from years at Hogwarts interrupts me with a drawling tone.