Halfblood Institution for the Mentally Ill

by ElectraHeart1999

Annabeth Chase is not "normal" With an eating disorder, and a bad self harm issue, life couldn't get any worse right? But when she is sent to the Halfblood Institution for the Mentally Ill she is positive life can't get any worse. But when she meats the "bad boy" Percy Jackson she is positive she will keep up her wall. But will he be able to just break right through it?

1. Chapter 1

Hi guys this is my first fanfiction ever and I hope you enjoy?

Disclaimer- I do not own Percy Jackson and the Olympians sadly

~I can't drown my demons, they know how to swim~ Can You Feel My Heart- Bring me the Horizon

*Annabeth POV*

I can't believe it has gotten to this, being sent to a fucking mental hospital. It's not that I don't want to "get better" I just don't believe I did anything. Okay maybe I have a very bad self-harm problem but honestly it's really not anyone's problem but mine. And okay maybe I have severe anorexia, but that's because I used to be really fucking fat. But thankfully I'm not anymore. The only reason im going to this hell whole is because my dad cared enough to send me across the country. What a strong relationship we must have.

I hate my father. I hate him so much. When he found out what I did to myself he immediately found a mental hospital on the other side of the country. Halfblood Institution for the mentally ill. Oh joy. Getting put in a building filled with crazies is NOT going to help me. I just hate the idea so fucking much.

This all started when I was the grand age of 12. Right after my mother died my father got super depressed, and he lashed out at me. He would hit me until I couldn't feel anything anymore. I just wanted to feel something. So one night I was shaving my legs in the shower and I cut myself my accident. And I realized I felt something for the first time in months. Pain. But it was something. I got addicted to the feeling of pain. The adrenaline, the pain. And for a while it was the only way I could feel something more.

The day my father found out was, for lack of a better word, a nightmare. He walked in on me sitting on my bedroom floor crying with an old, blade used in pencil sharpeners. He started yelling. He was screaming at me. As if I had dine something wrong. Approximately an hour later he had found Halfblood institution.

Its a camp like institution in New York. But it was concealed in trees, and oceans. Its like they are keeping future murderers there. Joy. I really do not want to fucking go. But I have no choice.