User blog:MadamePhantom/Camp Half-Blood Diaries

  Diary

While in Camp Half-Blood

(These Diary Pages belong to the Characters of User:HiddenOracle) 

 Jacyln Clover

 February 22, 2012.

I cannot begin to explain what this place is like. Camp Half-Blood, safe place for the children of the gods. If you can begin to call it that in the first place. The minute I walked into this camp, it was covered in snow (still is) and everyone is training for something. That's what many of the places around camp are for anyway. I haven't even made it into town yet either, but from what I saw on my way in it's pretty small town. Here I thought Long Island, New York was supposed to be totally Boss.

There are a few cool people though, so I guess that's a small plus. I haven't really gotten the chance to get to know anyone though. For some reason I can't help but sort of hope I make friends here. (Shocking, since all of my foster parents believed I was an anti-social little twerp... ;P )

Right now I can think of four people here who seem pretty cool. First off theres Evelyn Monroe, Daughter of Dionysus. She's uber polite, and cute. I wish I looked like here at times, instead of my own screwy Blonde hair. But I get the sense she's a lot older than she looks...

Then there's Matthew Clark, son of Thanatos. He's a Head Counselor, and he seems pretty cool. He's kinda hot as well, but I would never admit that out load. I bet myself ten bucks that he would then never leave me alone.

I also have to think about my own Cabin. I have two bothers, who stand out among the others. Mostly its because their the only two that really introduced themselves AND spoke to me for a length of time. Counselor Logan Weston and his Lieutenant Counselor, Wyatt Farrel. It seems like all my new siblings are blonde or have light brown hair. Kinda like we're all beach babies. Their both cool in their own ways. Wyatt looks like he knows how to have a good time. Logan on the other hand... I get this gut wrenching feeling that he's really a drill Sergeant when no one is looking. I better keep and eye on that one.



 History

 February 26, 2012

Untitled Poem

Sitting here, blood running cold in total fear. The sound of its voice, like a mutated creature out of a little girls nightmare. I cannot bring myself to shoot.

But if I don't not only would I die; The goat man whom found me would be devoured alive.

That call it the man-eater. A creature so cold blooded and dark. Its fur is red, as if it's rolled in the blood of all its victims. I am so afraid.

It leaps and snarls, claws so sharp and cruel. And then the Stinger comes down towards us both.

Will we live.. or die?

