I woke up on Monday morning to my Grandma singing. I felt horrible. I had had the nightmare/memory again:

I'm four years old and still live with my parents, before they died. They were Greek mythology freaks who collected artifacts from all over the world, and I loved to listen to their stories. Mom had told me "Medusa and the Gorgons" before she went to bed, and I had been up for quite a while, pretending to be Perseus slaying the three horrid monsters, when I heard a noise like wood splintering downstairs. As I went downstairs, I realized smoke had started to drift up and it had gotten rather warm. I made it downstairs and it looked like a giant Cyclops had had a bonfire in our house. There was a tall man who looked about 30 or 40 standing in the middle of it all. He had some kind of weapon in his hand; it looked like a jagged yellow-orange rod. I looked at the damage of my house closer. There were sparks everywhere! I yelled at the man, supposing he had made this fire, "What do you think you're doing, mister man?"

Of course, I probably didn't sound as brave as I wanted. After all, I was four. Then I remembered my parents. I was about to run upstairs to tell them, when suddenly the tall man ran up behind me and grabbed me and bolted out of the house. I screamed for my parents, and they heard me. They looked out of the window, terrified, but when they saw who was carrying me, for some unreasonably INSANE reason, they smiled and I saw my mother mouth, "Good luck, I love you."

I stared at them, stunned, and I stopped struggling against the man. I didn't believe my parents and that he was safe, but I was starting to get tired. Right as I was drowsing off, and closing my eyes, I saw the man look back at me in panic, but then he smiled softly as he saw I was okay. At the very edge of my consciousness, I heard him whisper, "Good night, my light."

Okay, well it's mostly a nightmare, and that's usually where it ends, but I'll continue it for your sake. After I awoke from that crazy rendezvous, I was in a bed. My Grandma Redbird (Cardinal) and Grandpa Vinnie (Vincent), my father's parents who don't like Greek Mythology, were standing over me, looking worried. "What happened?" I asked, my voice a whisper.

"We found you asleep on the doorstep," said Grandma Redbird. "We were really scared when you slept for two days straight, but I guess your body was just recovering from some burns."

I suddenly remembered all of it in one big wave. "Mom? And Dad? Ar-are they okay? And the man who carried me here?"

Grandpa Vinnie looked down, and I suddenly realized he'd been crying. "Honey," he said cautiously, "You're mommy and daddy are going to go to heaven now."

My eyes widened as I took in the meaning of his words. I started sobbing and weeping, but I still managed to choke out, "No. Mommy and Daddy aren't going to heaven." Grandpa Vinnie stared at me slack-jawed, but I wasn't done. "Mommy and Daddy aren't going to heaven. They're going to the Underworld, to Elysium. You know they cherished Greek customs and traditions and, even if you both mutually and completely disapprove it, there's no denying that that's what they would have wanted. It's also what I want. I want them to be happy, and have barbeques where they give sacrifices to the gods, get on Hades' good side, and maybe even be reborn." That's the moment that Grandma Redbird started feeling sorry for me, and giving me anything I want, and Grandpa Vinnie started to think I was going to be a hell of a teenager. He even muttered it under his breath. He's crazy, right? He was already making this decision? At my age? I am four. Four. Four! FOUR YEARS OLD! Don't you agree with me that he could've waited at least a little longer? However, he was right. I am a hell of a teenager, and proud. :D Anyway, I'm off topic. Where was I?

Oh yeah, so then my Grandma asked me, "Honey, did someone carry you here?"

I answered, "Yeah, he was really tall and was standing in the middle of the fire in my house. He also had dark gray eyes the color of storm clouds and he was wearing….I-I don't know. I don't remember."

My grandparents exchanged a concerned glance, and I heard my Grandpa Vinnie mutter under his breath, "Damn."

I was going to ask what was wrong, but was stopped short by Grandma Redbird, and she said, "It's going to be okay, we'll take care of you," and so, from then on, my grandparents took care of me, which brings me to now.

I call my Grandparents by their real (nick) names now. So now I'm in seventh grade, my best friend is Jacinda Wild, and, well, to put it lightly, I'm kind of a loser, but that's okay. I really don't care. After I took a shower, and got ready for school, I went downstairs to hear Redbird sing "You Are My Sunshine" as she cooked eggs sunny-side-up for Vinnie and me. I gobbled down my eggs, gave Redbird and Vinnie hugs, I walked out the door to school. I got there early, so I went to sit down in the courtyard, where Jace usually was, but she wasn't there. The day went on boringly, so nothing new happened. In my Advanced Algebra class, I thought I saw something move in my peripheral vision, so I turned to glance out the window. It was him. The man who saved me, the man my parents trusted, and he was staring at me intensely, so intensely, I was beginning to twitch under his gaze. I was ready to raise my hand to tell the teacher, but abruptly a city bus rode down the road, and after it passed, he was gone. I was turning back around disappointed, when I saw something. There was a piece of paper, turning in the air, right where the man had been standing. I watched it until it settled into a bush, well-hidden, where no one would pick it up before me. As I was watching the paper, my teacher asked me,

"Jennifer-Rosalie, since you're paying sooo much attention, why don't you tell the class what the answer to question number 102?" his words dripping with sarcasm.

I looked at him and said, tightly, "I've asked you before not to call me that name, Mr. Roosevelt, it is not my name. My name is Jennarose, and that's it, please." He scowled. I continued, "Also, the answer to number 102 is 3,597.56… It's not really that hard, it's just an algebraic equation that includes the culinary concept of measuring and dividing it out for the quotient with the extra obtuse scalene triangular prismatic volume using the infamous Pythagorean theorem." He stared at me, shocked.

"Humph." I smirked at him and went back to gazing out the window. He didn't bother me again that day.

x_x

When the end of the day bell rang, I bolted out of the school. I ran to the bush and, to my immense relief, the paper was still there. I picked it up and read it. It had some strange writing on it. There was also a picture of a female angel catching a male demon from falling. I sort of thought the angel looked like me, but it was probably just my mind playing tricks on me. Suddenly I got the very strong feeling that I was being watched. I looked around in alarm. There by the school, in the ally, was a boy. He looked familiar. He had pitch-black hair, and his eyes were….red. I glanced down at the parchment and did a double-take. He looked exactly like the demon! I was about to go over and ask him if he knew what the symbols were when I saw someone walk up behind him. I looked alarmed and pointed behind him. The person behind him wasn't a person, it was a thing. It was green and slimy, had big wings, and huge claws and teeth. Its snake eyes glowed red. The only thing I could think of it to be was a dragon, but it wasn't like in the fairytales. It wasn't a cuddly creature that means only good, it was evil. The boy looked confused, but then he turned around. As soon as he saw the dragon, he pulled out an onyx and steel sword and slashed it with the force of three men. He must have had the strength of three men because after he struck it, the dragon exploded into dust. The boy turned around, eyes glinting with anger, he looked at me, made sure no one else was watching, and beckoned me over. I went, half because of curiosity, half because I was kind of scared of him. As soon as I got over there, he grabbed my arm and we hid behind a shrub. I soon saw why. There, in the ally, were more dragons. They were all different colors, and they looked pissed.

I turned to the boy, "Dragons?" He nodded. After attempting to investigate, and failing, the dragons walked away. In the distance, I saw them flying north. We stood up and, for the first time, the boy spoke.

"I am Josh Pluton. I'm here to speak to you about your father."

I looked at him funny, "What about my dad? He escaped the fire from nine years ago?"

He shook his head. "No. That mortal died nine years ago and, anyway, he is not your real dad. Your dad is a god."

I stared at him silently shocked, and then burst into laughter.

"What's so funny?" He asked, looking confused.

To this I said solemnly, "I don't believe in gods. If there were such things as gods or goddesses, then they wouldn't have let my parents die that easily. I wouldn't be alone and hurt if they cared. I'm sorry." I bowed my head with sorrow.

He said, softly, "I'm sorry about your parents, but there are gods, and they, well at least one, tried to stop their deaths, but could only save you. The man who carried you was your dad. His name is Zeus."