Percy Jackson went to hell, literally, so I wouldn't be alone.
We faced demons and dangers and death, and I wouldn't have survived without him. He was intelligent enough to keep us both alive in a… let's call it an impossible situation. It's what he was good at.
He was the most brilliant idiot I have ever met. He could create the most nonsensical plans that would make sense or the most brilliant plans that could fail from a single, stupid mistake. He was such a seaweed brain.
The first time I met him, he was unconscious, drooling, and holding a horn of the minotaur in his hands.
It was not love at first sight.
He had a slight problem with getting into trouble, like the time he challenged the god of war to a sword fight.
Not the smartest decision he ever made.
Percy could be pretty dumb, but he could also be very loyal.
He would let the entire planet burn save the people he loved.
He almost did, once or twice.
He would have gone back to Tartarus, bravely facing pain and horror if he had to.
He has almost died so many times for us, for his family, for his friends, that this doesn't feel real, it can't be real.
I can almost imagine him coming in and interrupting me, again, giving his eulogy, but he won't.
Because Percy Jackson is dead, and he's not coming back this time.
*sobs* I don't know why I did this. I really don't. Someone get me help. Please.
3 U-B-N
P.S. So sorry about not updating my other story, if anyone has read them. I have had absolutely no time as I've begun the horror we call "high school", where the teachers actually say we get too much homework. The teachers. There will be updates as soon as I can find more time. This was written in the one time my homeroom hasn't been filled with incalculable amounts of work. Thanks! :)