When I open my eyes, I see two teenagers, about my age, shooting at each other. I scream.

I mean, what else do you do in that situation?

Well, one turns and looks at me oddly and the other one shoots at him. It clips him in the temple and he falls to the ground.

I scream again. "You just shot someone!" Looking back, I would say I have this really unfortunate habit of stating the obvious.

The guy who is currently not lying on the sidewalk unconscious looks at me strangely. Then he seems to have an epiphany and says, "Well, technically, the bullet only clipped him in the temple and, really, he's just unconscious."

"You just shot someone!" I repeat.

"I think you've already said that." he says. He's looking at me strangely, like I'm overdue for a straitjacket and a rubber room.

"I'm calling the cops!" I say, rummaging through my purse for my cell phone. It's not there. "Where's my cell phone?" I mutter. You know how when you're rummaging through your purse trying to find something, and you'll say that, right? Well, apparently the crazy boy thought I was talking to him.

"I kind of borrowed it…"

"You stole my cell phone!"

"I didn't steal it! I was going to give it back."

"You stole my cell phone!"

"Do you repeat yourself often?" He's giving me that 'you're overdue for a rubber room and a straitjacket' look again.

"Give me my cell phone so I can call the cops!" I say angrily. Now, there's a phrase you don't say much. Unless I was planning on pursuing a career as an innocent bystander-hostage, I had thought that those words would've never exited my mouth.

"You know," he says, all carefree, like I'm not about to brain him with my purse, a dog biscuit, and a stiletto heel. "I'm not stupid."

Then he turns on his heel and runs.

And because I happen to have a near-reliance on my cell phone, I chase after him.

We run by a lot of what looks like gang fights, although at one point I do see a cute blonde boy pull out a switchblade and knife a poodle.

He stops in front of a boy who looks strikingly like him, who's fighting a girl who looks like she's on steroids. The girl on steroids shoots at him, and the guy ducks. He fires back and she hits the ground, bleeding.

Frankly, I was horrified. "What is wrong with you people?" I yell.

The one who just shot Steroid-girl looks at the other guy. "What's she doing here?" he asks.

"She wants her cell phone back."

"Wh-oh. Didn't Percy say to give them back?"

"Travis, she was about to call the cops on me!"

"Dude, the entire city is in an uproar. It's not likely that they'll actually come to arrest you."

"Well, it might be sped up if she told them that I had shot someone."

"Dude, you shot-oooh. Well' how was I supposed to know that she was-"

"Of course she is! They aren't that common, you know!"

"You are aware that I'm still here, right?"

They apparently were not aware of that little fact. "Why are you still here?" 'Travis' asked.

"I'm not leaving without my cell phone." I say, which may or may not be a total lie. It all depends whether or not they're going to pull the guns out on me.

"Connor, just give her the cell phone."

"If she calls the cops, I will tell Chiron it was all your fault."

"C'mon, it's not like it'll be the first time."

"Fine." He pulls out my (not that it really matters, but for posterity) turquoise Chocolate, and throws it at me and I catch it. "Don't call the cops, or else."

I turn on my heels and start to walk back the way I came. Then I turned around. "Connor?"

He trips and nearly falls into an open dumpster. "What?"

"Is there any particular reason as to why most of New York happened to fall asleep at the same time? Did someone drug the water supply?"

Connor looked distinctly uncomfortable. "Why would I know?"

"Because clearly it didn't affect you."

"Maybe. I don't know." Then he left.

And a moment later, I turn around and leave, too.