The forgotten

Chapter One

POV Percy

He was running. All he ever seemed to do was keep on running. His sneakers roughly grabbing at the ground propelling him forward. For the longest time, he couldn't understand why he put one foot in front of the other. He still didn't understand. All he truly knew, was that he could never stop. He had a bad feeling if he stopped, it would be for the last time.

So, as he continued on, he tried to pick up the pace. His body felt as if it weighed ten tons. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a moment to rest. His breath came in quick, rapid pants, his lungs burning with the desire to keep pumping in air, but they were failing like the rest of him. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore. The boy who ran finally stopped, hands on his knees, gasping for breath.

The air was ice cold, only making it harder to get in oxygen. He was sweating terribly, despite the cold, orange shirt soaked with perspiration. His legs ached awfully, to the point where he felt he was about to collapse. The boy's jeans were dirty, and worn to shreds, hardly any in wearable condition. His jet black hair was matted to his forehead, and he closed his eyes trying to do everything he could to stop from blacking out.

Where was he again? He opened his eyes, briefly, to look around him. All around, nothing. Empty buildings, broken and run down, long in disrepair dotted the street he seemed to be standing on. There were no signs, no direction other than forward or backward. No ally's, no escape. No sound, but for his ragged attempts at breathing.

A sound unlike any other pierced the silenced air. Not a roar, not even a bellow. But a scream. A long, terrible sound that it seemed only the boy could hear. He started to run again.

He couldn't help but dash in front of him, trying to distance himself from the sound. It seemed to go on forever, coming from behind him. Echoing, it seemed, from everywhere.

The sound was full of mourning. Full of pure sadness, that no normal human being could possibly understand. He kept running.

His heart panged, this boy who kept running. Tears began to cloud his eyes, and it wasn't from the effect of the cold air. He couldn't seem to go fast enough, his strength was waning. He slowed again. No…he couldn't stop he told himself. He didn't know anything. Where, who, what, or when, all he knew, was that he couldn't stop. He hardly stopped from screaming himself at the terribleness of the situation. Was this the end? He felt unsure. It couldn't be, he had to keep going…he had to get to…he couldn't remember.

The screamed grew louder and shriller, the sound seeming to close in on him.

He ran again.

This time, his body couldn't hold itself up any longer. He'd been running for so long. And he didn't even know how long that was. He collapsed on the pavement, brick-like in nature, worn down and crummy. He scraped his hands and knees, drawing red ichor. He couldn't stop…he just couldn't, he tried to get to his tired feet. He fell yet again.

The sound grew louder still. It was almost right behind him now. He could hardly see ten feet in front of him, through his sea-green eyes. But he could hear just fine. The wearer of the sad, lonely, desolate voice, screamed even more so, perhaps knowing it was drawing close. Now that the voice was so impending, the boy could tell it was feminine in nature. But, as it drew closer, so did others. Male voices, female voices, voices he didn't even recognize, but made his heart ache so, all he wanted was to cry out and join the furious sadness that was coming to claim him. Yet still, the first voice was the loudest, racking so hard in his brain, he put his hands to his skull, and winced his eyes shut tightly in pain. He couldn't move away anymore.

The chorus of misery seemed to speak all as one, trying to convey their longing, their woe, but unable to find the words to describe their grieving. The boy didn't want to listen, but he had no choice.

He flipped to his back, unable to hold back the force of the sounds. He could almost see the crowd coming towards him, all weeping.

Finally, they seemed to find a word to yell to channel their distress

"Per-!" They all seem to say at once and then…

Everything went black before the poor souls could finish their word. Slowly at first, then faster still, until again, he could see and hear nothing but his own ragged breathing.

The boy finally managed to get to his feet again, albeit slowly and shakily.

What were they trying to say, he wondered to himself? He wouldn't know. He couldn't remember why he was running from them in the first place…or who they were. Where they were so close a moment ago, they were far away now, those voices, but the boys heart hurt still.

Now, out of the darkness's embrace, came a girl. He'd never seen her before, but for some reason, his eyes wouldn't leave her, and again, he felt that pang in his chest, this time more than ever.

The girl had blonde hair, a pale look about her, though not at all unhealthy. She also wore an orange shirt, as he did, but whatever description had been there before, had long been blurred out. She also wore jeans, sneakers as he did as well, almost the exact same. And, on her neck, she wore…a necklace? With strange beads adorning it? From this far away, he couldn't even tell what they were. His hand went to his neck, in some sort of remembrance, but his hands closed on air, finding nothing… Then, his eyes, went to the girls. The girl's eyes were closed, but when she opened them, the boy caught his breath.

Grey. Deep, and stormy, as if a thunder-cloud had been cut into a tiny circle for each eye. The eyes were full of intelligence, the boy could tell that much from the mere look of them. He knew he hadn't, but for some reason, he thought he'd seen those eyes before…somewhere. Though again, something told him he didn't.

She looked sad as well, this girl. Her eyes were full of the emotion, as she seemed to be staring at him. Somehow, the boy who ran spoke.

"Who are you?" He asked, his voice sound strange and unused. He obviously hadn't spoken in a long time. But none the less, he tried to steady his still heavy breathing. He had to know. For some reason, he just had to know the answer.

The girl took a long time to answer, opening and closing her mouth many times before finally speaking.

"I'm nobody…" She said quietly, yet even her voice sounded familiar, eyes looking sadder still, as if he'd hurt her somehow.

The girl turned away, and started to walk back into the darkness that she'd come from, just moments before.

The boy who'd ran, but ran no longer, took a step after her, no longer running away.

Percy Jackson awoke, in a deep, cold sweat, gasping for air. He nearly jumped from the bed he was lying, though he couldn't say why. His chest hurt, and his right hand went to cover it in a type of sign with three fingers hovering over his heart. He looked down, and took his hand away. He didn't know why he did that either.

His heart was beating frantically. He looked around, eyes roaming the cabin he seemed to be in. He couldn't take sitting there in the bed any longer. He had to get out. He was already dressed for some reason, orange shirt, and jeans, sneakers, so he didn't need to throw anything on. He just had to get out, he had to.

He jumped from the bed, and, for some reason, even though his heart was hammering in his chest, his body aching with phantom pains, he crept quietly outside, slowly opening and shutting the door.

His sea-green eyes darted everywhere at once, taking in all sorts of cabins, so many he couldn't even count them all, all strange. Then he turned back to the one he was in.

Now that he'd stopped, he could smell the salt in the air, and the look of the cabin calmed him somewhat for some reason. Nonetheless, he took off running, unable to take any of this strangeness any longer. Something just told him to bolt.

So the boy who'd run began to run again, as far away as he could, darting through trees, over a river, until he found a beach.

Heart, still throbbing roughly, aching with both physical pain, and emotional, though he couldn't say why he felt the latter, this…camp, the word came to him. It was making him feel to strange. He didn't know it. He didn't even know how he'd gotten there.

He ran along the beach, sneakers kicking up sand into the night, as he continued to run in the pale moonlight.