Look, I didn’t want to be a half-blood.
It’s a dangerous life. You’re always fighting demons, you’re seconds away from your insides exploding, and you’ve got to think twice before you eat at a mortal restaurant like Taco Bell. Believe me. But this is a warning—you can read the rest of this like it’s satire, and honestly, good for you. I wish I could do that. But if some of you feel a churning within while you’re reading, it’s a calling. You don’t have IBS, you’re a half-blood too.
