Hotel Ceiling

Warning: This story discusses ideas such as suicide, depression, sexual abuse, drugs, alcohol, and cutting. While there is never much detail given, these topics are in here. A girl commits suicide and her friend has to deal with it. If you are not comfortable with these topics then don't read this until you're ready.

It's all very real.

But if you can, please read this. I don't know what else to say but please.

Disclaimer: I do not own.

He was staring at the hotel ceiling.

It was funny how the harder he stared at the rigid ceiling the more he started seeing pictures. He was almost positive that he was seeing a horse and an owl fighting each other. He was pretty damn sure that he was going crazy and was beginning to hallucinate. It could be a result of the alcohol he had just downed or a result of his lack of sleep for the past few days.

He lay flopped on his back, staring at the ceiling in the same position he had been since he had nearly emptied half of the bar that was in the corner of the hotel suite. His brain was getting sort of fuzzy from it all. But there was one thought in his mind that was constantly lingering in the back of his mind.

She wasn't ever going to call him again.

His phone lay a few feet away on the floor. If there was a reward for the most indestructible phone on the planet then his phone deserved it. It had suffered blows that would have normally shattered any other phone. When he had seen the news he had thrown it across the room so hard that it left a dent in wall. It didn't matter, his manager would pay for it. A dent didn't seem that bad when compared to what he was going through.

He had been waiting for her to text him when he had seen the news.

He wasn't expecting her to text a really long message to him like she was known to do since they had just broken up only three days ago, but he had been waiting for her to text him something. Anything. Just one word. Even if it was a derogatory word that she only used when she was incredibly pissed at someone. He was sure that she would text him sometime.

But as the minutes and the hours dragged on nothing came.

And he began to panic.

He didn't want to break up with her. He really didn't. But it was for her own good. Wasn't it? He didn't want her to be dragged into all of this craziness with his world. He wanted her to be safe. And yet at the same time he wasn't sure he was ready. Sure he loved her, he was positive that he did, but he was afraid. It was so… strange. Hell she was still a highschool student; he was two years older than her. She wanted to become an architect whereas he was on his way to stardom. He was currently scheduled to play the lead in an upcoming summer blockbuster.

So he had broken up with her.

They had been childhood sweethearts according to some of their friends and he hated to hurt her. But something was wrong and he wasn't sure that he wanted to handle it all. He already had a lot of pressure on his plate and he wanted to have it easy. He could see in her dark grey eyes that something was wrong but he didn't ask.

He was too busy with his own life.

Just like he had always been too busy.

He had nearly died inside when she looked at him calmly and asked him why he thought that they should break up. As he spoke the three reasons he had come up with he realized just how stupid he sounded. And he also realized that he wished that she would scream at him or curse him or hit him, do anything but just stand there and stare at him like she had been doing.

Then she calmly turned on her heels and walked out the door and out of his life.

How was he supposed to know that it would be the last time he saw her.

Ever.

He flipped on the TV to see if they had any more information about her and what had happened. What had caused her to do what she had done.

The annoying newslady with the fake black hair sat in front of the camera, smiling at whomever was watching her at the moment. Her smile was as fake as her hair. How could she smile when someone had just died? How could she pretend to be happy?

They didn't get it.

They didn't understand.

"And for our breaking news, a seventeen year old girl swerved off the road at Castor's Bridge and slammed off of the bridge into the creek. The police found the car at twelve fifty two this afternoon in flames. After putting out the flames they discovered that the high-school student had been ejected almost a hundred feet from the car. Her skull was cracked and her spinal cord collapsed. The police report that she was dead before they even arrived, killed on impact. She was not wearing her seatbelt. However investigators are beginning to suspect that there is more to this seemingly tragic incident as they continue to investigate the girl's home. The name of the girl has yet to be released but will be so as soon as possible."

Percy Jackson shut off the TV with a click of a button and buried his face in his hands. Even though the name hadn't been given, he knew that it was Annabeth. He knew her car and as he stared at the pictures his blood seemed to freeze in his body. He had quickly texted Jason Grace, one of his friends from highschool who was three years younger than him. He asked if Annabeth was at school, praying that he was mistaken and that wasn't her car laying in the ditch and that it wasn't her body that was dead.

Annabeth hadn't been at school for two days.

And Annabeth hadn't been wearing a seatbelt.

Two things that she did faithfully. She had never missed a day of school and she always wore her seatbelt.

Percy had dropped his phone and sobbed.

He hadn't cried since the day that his dad had left his mom and him when he was six and he had been too young to realize that people split up all the time.

Percy nearly fell off the bed when he heard him phone ring, playing the annoying song that Annabeth had plugged in, the song from those action movies that she used to drag him to just so that she could criticize them. "Hello?" He asked, his voice shaking as he picked up the phone.

Somewhere in his mind he was praying that it was Annabeth on the other side and that this whole thing had been one big mistake and that she was still alive and wanted to talk to him.

"Hello Mr. Jackson?" A professional voice said on the other end of the phone.

"This is he?" Percy said, his voice hands beginning to shake as he struggled to hold his phone to his ear.

"Mr. Jackson my name is Detective Brunner." There was a pause on the one line and Percy heard a deep breath before the detective continued to speak. "Mr. Jackson Annabeth Chase is dead." There it was, the confirmation that he had been waiting for.

It was official.

The one girl he loved was dead.

And there was nothing he could do.

Percy wanted to go and curl up in his bed and rock back and forth, crying himself to sleep. Instead he cleared his throat to try and keep back the sob that was ready to come out. "Mr. Jackson we were wondering if you could come to the police station. There is something we need to show you."

"I… I'll be right there," he said quietly.

o.O.o

"Why do you like this place so much?" Percy asked as he swung Annabeth's hand in his as they walked down the deserted street, their boots stirring up the leaves that were falling around them. Percy grinned at her as he reached out to brush away a leaf from Annabeth's white, knitted hat.

"Because it's quiet," she said as she let go of Percy's hand and swung herself up onto one of the small pillars of stone that was slowly crumpling down.

"Exactly, how can you stand it?" Percy asked as he put one hand on either side of her and placed his chin on her shoulder, his warm breath tickling her skin. She smiled at him.

"Because I can think. Sometimes everything is too loud. When it's loud everyone tries to tell you different things, how we should act, who we should be, what to wear. When it's quiet you can think and you can be yourself. When it's quiet we understand things that we don't understand when it's loud. The world is so big at times that I can only try and make it a bit smaller for me. Sometimes it's so big that it scares me. Just think about it, there are seven other people in the world that look somewhat like you… and you'll probably never meet them because there are so many people. And it's loud. Everyone likes to tell everyone else what to do. I want to be able to tell myself what to do."

"Sometimes I think you're way too smart for me Wise Girl," Percy said as he reached one hand up to stroke her blond hair she had pulled into a braid down one of her shoulders.

"Of course I am," she laughed. "That's why we're such a great team. You're the dumb one, I'm the smart one."

"Hey! I resent that!" Percy said.

"You can resent it all you want but it's true," Annabeth said turning to look at Percy and sticking out her tongue. Percy took the opportunity to pull her in close and kiss her hard, wrapping his arms around her waist He had been in love with her since she was in eighth grade and he was a sophomore. Some might call it creepy but she was his best friend and he couldn't imagine loving anyone else.

"I love you," he breathed out when they pulled apart.

Annabeth brushed a strand of hair away from his eyes. "Love you too Seaweed Brain," she said softly.

o.O.o

Percy walked into the police station, his hands tucked into the pockets of his coat, his head down, his walk slow and solemn.

"Mr. Jackson?" Percy looked up to see a woman walking towards him, a sad smile on her face. "I'm Detective Brunner's assistant Juniper Greene, I'm sorry about your loss," she said softly, reaching out a hand for Percy to shake. He shook it, studying her face. Was she really sorry for his loss? He nearly laughed.

No one knew what he was going through.

No one.

How could they know what it felt like to have your best friend killed in a car crash unless it had actually happened? It was quite simple, you couldn't. You couldn't know the pain unless you had felt it.

"If you'll follow me, I'll take you to Detective Brunner, he has something that you need to see." The woman nervously fiddled with her hands and looked down at them.

"Does he have any idea what happened?" Percy asked as he followed Juniper Greene down the dimly lit hallway. A few police officers glanced at him as if they recognized him. Percy lowered his head.

Juniper opened the door for Percy to a small room where a man wearing a tweed jacket in a wheelchair sat. A device sat on the table and he was staring at it, tapping his fingers on the table. He looked up at Percy and solemnly nodded. "Mr. Jackson," he said. "I would stand up and greet you but alas I'm not able to." He motioned to his wheelchair.

"What happened if you don't mind me asking?" Percy asked, sitting in the chair across from the man in the tweed jacket. He wanted to talk about anything to distract him from Annabeth.

"I was shot in the spine," the man said. "Paralyzed below my waist."

"I'm sorry," Percy said, shifting uncomfortably, the man in the tweed jacket shrugged.

"Mr. Jackson, my name is Chiron Brunner and I'm the detective assigned to Ms. Chase's case. We went to her home to try and contact her father but he wasn't there so we went inside to see if there was any indication. Sadly we have to treat every case like this as if there is a possibly that it was done on purpose."

"Purpose? Like… like suicide?" Percy asked, his voice shaking.

Detective Brunner nodded. "I am happy that we did it with this case. We found this in Ms. Chase's bedroom on her bed a long with a note that said play me. We would like you to listen to it." Percy looked nervously at the recording device. What had Annabeth left for them.

Was it really… suicide?

Did Annabeth really kill herself?

No... no. Annabeth would never do that. It was Annabeth Chase the most perfect student at Goode High. She would never even think about taking her own life.

"Play it," Percy managed to choke out. Detective Brunner nodded and hit the play button.

For a moment there was nothing but a scratching sound as if someone was moving around and then Percy heard it: Annabeth's voice.

Hello. This is Annabeth Chase. I guess if you're listening to this then someone, and by someone I probably mean the police, has found my car at the bottom of Caster's Creek and my body will probably have ejected a hundred feet due to the impact. Yes I paid attention in Driver's Ed even though most people don't.

And so I guess someone is going to come to my house, looking for my dad, not find him and then go inside because the sad reality is that you have to expect that a lot of deaths are actually suicides. Well in this case you're right. And I'll already let you know that you're not going to find my dad. You probably won't find my dad for another week. He goes on long trips like this every now and then… okay more than every now and then. He goes on trips like this every month for two weeks which means that he's here maybe a week and a half. And even then he's always holed up in his study or at some event helping the destitute people of the world. However he forgets about his own daughter who lives at his house.

Sad isn't it? How your own father won't even be there to hear about your own death when it happens? He probably won't even pick up the phone when you call him because he has a private number that he answers. If you want to get a hold of him, his number's on the fridge. But this isn't about him.

No you're wondering about why I did it. Why my car is now at the bottom of Caster's Creek, probably in flames unless you've already put them out and why my body is broken, bruised, bloodied and did I mention dead?

Well first of all I should probably mention that I'm probably the least likely person to be on your list of people to watch for signs of suicide. I'd probably be second to last or even last on your list because… well because I'm not supposed to be thinking these thoughts. I'm supposed to be the perfect student; you can look on my report card, straight A's, four point. You can tell that I'm captain of the debate team and that I'm pretty darn good at softball. You can see that I've been accepted into Brown University with a full ride scholarship and I'm still thinking about possibly going across the seas to Oxford… or at least I was. I guess I'm not thinking about that anymore. I wonder what you are thinking about why you die.

But maybe that's the scary thing.

I'm not on your list.

And I should be on your list.

I should be on your list because well… I'm thinking about these things and… I don't know what to do.

Perhaps the scariest thing is that I am thinking these things and I'm not supposed to. And I have no idea what to do. I'm not one of those kids that sat in with the councilor and just talked. I'm one of those kids that everyone thinks is just fine. You look at me and I'm fine.

But… if you really looked then you'd see those stupid signs.

I mean we're all taught about the signs aren't we? "Look out for these ten things and if you see them, this person might be thinking about suicide." Well obviously no one took the time to look at me because I've been thinking about it for a long time. And it's scary because I shouldn't feel this way. But then again… I guess I should.

But there are reasons you don't know, reasons why I feel this way that no one knows about. Like the fact that I still remember their hands on me when I was only ten. And I still remember it like it was yesterday… because to be honest it was yesterday. Yesterday that my uncle… that he… well… it's happened before so I'm sure that it doesn't take a genius to draw the connections with what I'm implying.

But you didn't know did you? No.

No one knew about my home life.

No one would even think.

Because my dad is the prominent history professor and could win the Nobel Peace Prize. So you wouldn't think that his daughter is being sexually abused, you wouldn't think that his daughter is into drugs or that she has an alcohol addiction. Most people wouldn't think that because I've done so well trying to hide it.

I guess some of us are experts at wearing a mask. I guess I am.

And I guess that the only reason that I've lived this long and continued with this shitty world is because… because of him. Who is him you might ask? Well…the him in question is my boyfriend… or was my boyfriend… or well at the time he still was… well he's my ex. We broke up about two and a half days ago.

I loved him in a way that no one I think could ever understand because we each show our love in different ways and we each feel so much love towards that one person. The one person you know deep down is right for you and he was right for me. I knew it. And I loved him. Some might call us childhood sweethearts and maybe we are. I mean we've been best friends since I was seven and he was nine. And I fell in love with him…well it was a process.

I don't believe in love at first sight but I do believe in true love. And well… I did. I guess I might not anymore. I fell in love with him slowly and then just one day… I couldn't look at him the same way. He was different. He was… perfect. But he stopped loving me. Or had he ever really started?

He's two years older than me and he says it's weird because I'm still in highschool and he's a big famous actor… well he will be famous soon, I know it. He's always been good at that stuff.

But… he ended it.

The greatest thing in the world for a human is to be loved. I think that love is what makes humanity. I mean we love more than animals, we love in a different way, a more deep connected way. Sure some of you might say, no animals love just as much as us but I don't think that's love. I think that that's loyalty maybe. I don't know. Maybe… I'm not an animal expert. But I think humans love wholly, completely.

But we're losing that in this world. We're losing it and it's hurting us. The greatest thing is to love and be loved in return. It's a two way process, you can't have one without the other or else it's not a strong bond and it doesn't work. Love is… well I don't think you can describe love because it's different for every person. I'm not going to take the time to try and describe it because I can't describe him and the way he made me feel.

I felt safe and protected whenever I was around him.

So one day… it was bad.

And I was scared. I had just gotten into a fight with my dad. And while he never hits me and probably never would, he does verbally abuse me. And… I was scared… really scared.

There was a pause in the video and Percy could hear Annabeth begin to sob. He clutched the edge of the table so hard that his knuckles turned white.

How had he not known?

How could he have not know?

He had failed her.

Percy thought that he knew Annabeth better than anyone else in the whole world and yet he had failed to see that she was scared. When she was scared he had called it emotional and clingy. Instead she had just been looking for someone, anyone to love her. And she had trusted him.

And he had let her down.

Because… because I was starting to think those thoughts again. And I was starting to crave my cigarettes again. Only I was out because I had used my last one the day before after my uncle had come. I don't know… I didn't trust myself anymore.

Can you imagine not being able to trust yourself?

It is the scariest thing ever.

I locked myself in my bedroom because I didn't trust… trust myself around anything. And then I had to go and see him. And driving there was hard and scary and it wasn't real. I could feel that my life wasn't real. And I started to think what if I was to just slip off the road? Spin a few times and crash? Would anyone miss me? And then what stopped me was the thought that he would miss me. Of course he would. He loves me so I kept going. And I got to his hotel and I went up to his room and he opened the door. And I was going to tell him.

And just to let you know how big a deal this is. I hate asking for help. I hate telling people because I don't think my problems are good enough. I don't think I'm good enough for someone to love. I'm so ugly inside. I'm ruined. I do drugs, I'm not a virgin, I'm addicted to alcohol. I cut. I'm ugly.

How can someone love someone who's so ugly?

Maybe I was lying to myself when I said that he loved me. After all, how could someone as perfect as him love someone as broken as me?

But I needed to tell him because I was scared and when you're scared you do things you don't usually do. But before I could tell him, he said that he had something to tell me. And so I listened.

And he told me it wasn't working, maybe we weren't right for each other. He gave me three reasons.

I was only worth three damn reasons.

I mean maybe it was good that he didn't give me sixteen reasons… because then… well wow then we really wouldn't have been working out. But three reasons? And they were pathetic reasons. Or maybe they weren't pathetic reasons in his mind but to me they were. I was too young, he was famous, I was a type A and he wasn't. Basically the reasons in a nutshell. And I stood there calmly. Or what he probably thought was calmly. But the whole time I was thinking, well it's over. There's nothing left if he doesn't think I'm worth it.

Now don't get me wrong. I don't need a guy to feel good about myself… okay well maybe I do… but not in that sense. It was in the sense that I loved him and when you're broken all you want is love. And he was the only one that loved me back. And if he doesn't love me then who could love me? Thalia left a long time ago; Luke abandoned me. There was no one left but him and now there was no one. And so… when I left I didn't look back.

Because I hate goodbyes. And I knew that this would be our last goodbye.

And I wanted to kiss him sooo bad but I couldn't. I just kept walking and planning. My mind works faster than the normal mind, I'm constantly thinking, constantly planning, constantly vigilant. And I came up with this plan. And the plan I came up with you have probably witnessed today. My car at the bottom, my body ejected.

If you could give this to him, that'd be nice. His name is Percy Jackson, he's staying at the hotel in town while he's shooting film for his movie. I… and… um… uh Percy if you're listening? I went to my death loving you. Nothing you could have said would have stopped that. See that's what true love is. No matter what the other person says, you still love them. You love them past their weaknesses and past every single bit of them.

This world is hard and I have scars. Scars on my wrists, bruises that won't heal, other… things… that I can't even talk about. But the scars that hurt the most are the ones that we can't see, the ones that no one else knows about, because you won't tell them because it's too scary, because it's too hard. So you live your life without anyone knowing but you, keeping it all holed up inside until one day… one day you just…

Explode.

And you leave a mess in your wake.

And I've been hurt by more invisible scars than visible scars. And maybe that's why this is happening. Because the invisible ones hurt like hell. And they're the scars that I… I can't tell anyone about.

So this is the end and it's not as scary as I thought because I'm ready. I'm ready and I'm tired and I'm done. So… you found my body and it wasn't a mistake. It was there for a reason.

And I guess I'm saying all of this to say that those signs that they list? About suicide? They don't work.

They don't work at all.

Because to be able to tell what someone's going through you have to actually spend time with people and notice and you have to love. You have to love. And you have forgive and you have to accept. And you have to realize that everyone has a story and that no one is as perfect as they seem. And some people are going through things that you can't imagine and on the outside? Well on the outside they look fine. But if you took five minutes, five measly minutes of your life to actually study them, talk with them, you'd realize.

Five minutes for one person's life.

Because what a lot of us need, a lot of the people in my case, they just want to talk with someone. They just want to know that you care about them, that you care about what they're going through and maybe we could stop a lot of deaths in this world.

We're all going to die. I've come to terms with that.

Some of us will die at ninety-nine in a hospital bed with all of our loved ones around us, some of us will die young and alone in the dark. Some will die a hero's death, others a criminal's. In the end it doesn't matter how, just that it happens. We're all going to die, that's the reality of it. Some of us, our time just comes sooner like mine. Only seventeen years and I'm done. So… death is coming. And death is a reality. But… but I don't care.

And I hope you care. And I hope you look. And… love.

This is I guess me… well signing off one last time.

Yeah.

Detective Brunner turned the tape recorder off and Percy looked down at her hands.

"I had no idea," he whispered. And then he looked up at the older man, his eyes brimming with tears. "I loved her. I really did. I only broke up with her because I didn't want her to get hurt. And in the end I ended up hurting her even more. I ended up killing her."

"Mr. Jackson you have to realize that you didn't kill her. When our EMT looked over Ms. Chase's body they found scars on her wrists, evidence of cutting and a high alcohol content level in her system. Ms. Chase was already near the breaking point. Some things just trigger that event."

"But I was the one who triggered it!" Percy said, standing up and banging his hand on the table. "I was the one who pushed her over the edge, who drove her to it. And I love her! Damn it I love her!" He collapsed in his chair and buried his head in his hands, tears streaming down his face.

"And now she's gone."

Detective Brunner looked at the broken man in front of her. "We didn't just call you in to let you listen to this. As the closest person to her that we can contact, we're allowing you to go into her house and look through her stuff for anything important." Percy nodded solemnly. "And I'll let you know that I am currently looking to find this uncle of hers. He will be arrested for sexual abuse."

Percy shook his head.

"But that's not going to save Annabeth right now. It's too late. It was always too late."

o.O.o

Percy was wandering around in Annabeth's home. He'd been there so many times that he had lost count. He had sat at their dining room table only a week ago with Annabeth, laughing over mac and cheese and hotdogs which was the only thing Percy knew how to someone cook.

His fingers trailed along the walls, trying to remember… remember little things. It was funny because his memories were already starting to fade. It was as if the moment he tried to latch onto them they tried to slip out of his grasp.

He climbed up the stairs to where Annabeth's room was.

Inside it was as if she had never left.

His breath hitched.

She had always been a neat freak, constantly getting on him about leaving a mess around his house when they were younger. Her books were alphabetized on the different shelves, all four hundred of them. He opened her closet and saw her clothes, all color coordinated. Her desk was neatly organized, her sketches of different buildings spread out, a pencil was lying over a half-completed one.

It was as if she had just taken a break to use the restroom or get a snack.

But he knew that she wasn't going to come back.

The police had left her room virtually untouched. They were trusting Percy to try and sort through her stuff, to see if he could find out any information about what had happened. They had looked in her records for any reports about her uncle, the uncle that she mentioned in her recording.

Percy already knew that Annabeth had over twenty uncles on both sides. Her grandpa had been very… flirtatious.

Percy sat down at her desk and realized that her laptop was still running. He pressed the "a" key and it lit up to her desktop which showed a picture of himself and Annabeth that they had taken last week, Annabeth's arm was outstretch to snap it with her phone.

Was it possible that just a week ago she was alive?

Death was a funny thing, you don't know when it's going to come until it comes. And then it makes life seem like such a long ways away.

He studied the picture and the way that she was smiling, the way that her deep grey eyes were looking at the camera. Something was different.

Then he noticed it.

Her hair was cut.

Her long blonde hair which fell halfway down her back had been cut to her shoulders.

When had she done that? He was positive that he would have noticed. And yet he didn't. Suddenly something popped into his mind, something he had learned back in one of his health classes in high school or some class like that.

5. Look for someone with drastic changes in appearances. Someone who never cuts their hair might cut it short. They might be looking for attention, for someone to notice them.

Percy's heart froze. Had Annabeth been looking for attention that long ago? She cut her hair every other year and never that much. He should have noticed such a drastic change. Maybe Annabeth was right, maybe those signs that they gave you didn't work. He was her best friend and he hadn't even noticed.

Heaving a heavy sigh Percy looked through her opened files. There were her essays for school and a few college applications, nothing out of the ordinary. And then he found something strange.

It was labeled Journal Article 74 and was written five days ago. Percy clicked on it.

Hello again. Gods I today was total shit. You know those days when your world completely falls apart and you find yourself in a room you never knew that you entered, lying on the ground in a ball? That was me today. I suddenly came to my senses and realized that I had been lying on my bathroom's floor, rocking back and forth.

And my wrists were bloodied again.

It's scary how I can't even control myself when it happens, it's like it's not even me. It's someone else and yet at the same time it is me. I don't know exactly how it happens… it just does.

My dad yelled at me today. He called me a failure and told me that I was going to hell. He told me that I was changing and that I wasn't the perfect little girl that I had been before and that I needed to get my shit back together. He got so close to my face that I was afraid he was going to hit me. I honestly was. Now he has yet to hit me as you know but I was afraid for a moment there. I could see his hands clenching into fists.

He told me that I was the fault for my mom dying and leaving us, that I drove her to taking her own life because I was a terrible girl and that I split them up.

While I know it's not true… it still hurts and it makes me wonder every now and then was it my fault? Am I the reason for everything?

While I was on the floor I started thinking again. It's weird because sometimes I feel like I'm getting better and that I'm fine and then suddenly something triggers it all. All the walls that I had built back up to perfection, they all fall down and I find myself cutting again or smoking or drinking.

I think I need help.

I don't even know what's happening any more.

Well I have to go soon. Percy and I are going to go bowling tonight. I wonder if he's noticed my haircut? I've never cut it this short before. I wonder if anyone's noticed yet. If they have then they haven't said anything.

Annabeth Chase

Percy leaned back in her chair, tilting it back so that he could think. How long?

That was the question that was going through his mind again and again. How long had she been doing all of this? Percy shook his head; he could have stopped this whole thing if he had only noticed. But he hadn't.

And now she was dead.

Percy pulled up Annabeth's internet history, trying to see if there was anything unusual. He felt dirty having to go through all of her stuff, but he had to know what was going on in her life. What had driven her to it?

There was one website that Annabeth currently went onto. It was a blog.

Percy clicked on it.

A blog popped up and showed that Annabeth was already logged onto it and that it was her blog. Percy didn't know that she had a blog. And apparently she was extremely popular based on all of the different people following her.

He clicked on a random entry from three months ago.

Hello everyone out there on the wild internet. Hello to all of you middle school students who think that you are the next best thing, to the high school students who are trying to get into a good college and are drowning in applications, to the college students who are trying to figure out if they should drop out and just work at McDonalds, to the random person who got wifi at the library, to my loyal followers, and to of course, the few actual internet stalkers.

So as you all know, I usually just talk on these things about my life and offer advice and stuff. Sometimes I'll put up a song I like or a poem or anything like that. Really I don't know why all of you guys read this thing since it's nothing special. But I'm glad that you all do! You're all amazing.

So I did what you all suggested me to do and I tried to tell my dad about my problems. For those of you who just found my blog I'll give you a brief overview: I suffer from depression and I cut myself. I'm addicted to drugs and have an alcohol problem. I'm also a straight A student, president of the debate team and made the all star team for softball. So it's not like anyone would even think that about me. I also nearly committed suicide a year ago.

Yeah… I'm pretty messed up.

Back to the story at hand. I brought it up to my dad as a hypothetical because to be honest I'm not going to flat out tell him 'hey dad! I'm thinking about committing suicide. Love the tie'. Yeah no. So I implied it and anyone with half a brain would be able to realize that it was me. I'm pretty sure that my dad has half a brain, he does have a PhD after all but then again some smart people are actually super dumb.

My dad proceeded to tell me that I didn't need to worry about suffering from depression since I didn't fit all of the 'criteria' for it.

Whoa hold up! There's criteria for depression? What! Why haven't I heard this before.

What do the criteria look like this:

Must watch depressing movies.

Must be emo

Must be failing school.

Must skip school

Or something like that? What is this criteria? What are these qualifications? If you know them please tell me because maybe I don't know my own mind and maybe I'm not depressed… yeah no. I think I know what's going on with me.

Anyway… sorry for the rant. My dad then went on to say that maybe this "person" (meaning me) was just making excuses and just wanted attention. Um… what the hell? I guess that he's part right, I mean I do want attention. I want to know that someone out there loves me and cares for me. Because that's all I want. Yes for those of you who are about to go crazy I have not forgotten about my boyfriend, I'm still dating him and I still love him. But I'd like to know that my own father loves me. Hell, I have to tell him: "Dad I would like Sunday to hang out with you from 12-4 and then I'll be good for a whole month." It's like I only get my dad's love for four hours once a month.

How sad is that? When you have to sign up for a "day" for your parents to love you? Sure he loves me in his own way but I would like him to at least tell me every now and then. That'd be nice.

So needless to say Plan Tell Dad I'm Thinking About Suicide failed miserably.

I've got to go, bell's about to ring and then I have to go to AP Calc but on the plus side I have a date tonight!

Love y'all and stay strong!

Annie

Percy was slightly shocked. She told people on the internet more than she told him? What? He clicked on the first link to the very first blog post she had.

Hello everyone out there on the internet.

I don't know why I'm doing this… no that's not right. I guess I do know why I'm doing this. It's because I'm scared and on the internet no one judges you at all. They all think that you're an amazing person… well as long as you act like one. And maybe on here people will listen to me and maybe I can help people as they help me. Why do I need help you might ask? Simple really.

I'm suicidal.

Wow.

I have never admitted that to anyone. Ever. Consider yourselves lucky to know that. Not even my father knows that. Then again he doesn't know a lot of things.

I'm also do drugs, I have an alcohol addiction, I cut myself.

And I've been sexually abused by my uncle.

Sure you might think I'm making all of this crap up but why would I do that? Whoever would make this stuff up just so that they can get attention is sick. Sick and twisted because I would never ever wish all of this shit on anyone else. And if you have a little innocent mind and live under a rock in a hole in a box then I advise you to leave this site because this stuff is real. It's the sad reality of our world that there are people out there that suffer from this stuff.

I've never been a good writer, I'm more of the mathematics and science type of person so a lot of my words are just… well words. I'm not one for big language so you'll have to pardon all of my problems with my words.

But I'm hoping you'll keep reading and talk.

Because talking is what we need. We crave human interaction and love. I am no exception.

Annie.

Percy shuddered as he read it. How could Annabeth had been so lost and helpless? No not helpless, she was a big girl but she needed hope. She needed someone to tell her that she was loved and adored.

He would tell her every night that he loved her. And he did. But then he had called it off with her. Her one last string to humanity.

And once it had snapped she had snapped.

Percy stood up and stretched. She had mentioned her uncle in this but he was no closer to finding out who the bastard was who had started this whole thing. Percy wandered around her large room, looking through her books until he found her journals. Before she had started her computer journal, she had written all of it down. Percy had read a few entries every now and then when she let him.

They were never entries about what she had done that day or who she had talked to, they were always just her thoughts or big things. Important things.

He flipped through them until he found the notebook from when she was nine and ten. To think that this had been going on for seven years made Percy feel sick. How could anyone ever put such a little girl through something like that? He remembered when she was ten and he was ten, with large grey eyes and crazy wild blonde hair.

I'm scared.

Is this normal?

Uncle M says that it's normal.

I don't think it's normal.

I still remember his hands on me. Daddy was away and he came to stay with me.

I wish Daddy would come back.

I feel dirty.

I feel ugly.

Uncle M says it's okay.

I don't think it's okay.

That was all that he could find. That or something similar to that entry. Percy shook his head.

He picked up another journal.

I have to start wearing long sleeved shirts even though it's summer. My cuts are too noticeable without one.

I don't remember when I started cutting. It just felt… nice? No… no it didn't feel nice. It hurt. But I was in control. I was the one hurting myself. Not someone else. I was doing it.

I was in control.

I like feeling in control of my life.

The cuts are ugly but they remind me of who I am.

I'm so ugly.

If someone else was to see those cuts they'd judge me.

They'd hate me. They'd think that there is something wrong with me.

Well maybe there is.

Maybe there's something wrong with all of us.

Thalia left me, she ran away from her mom two nights ago. I know where she is but I'm not gonna tell.

Luke said that I betrayed him to Percy.

Everyone's leaving me.

I think something's wrong.

I'm sure something's wrong.

What is going on with me!

I'm so confused.

Percy stood up after flicking through a few more journals. Some of the entries were happy, mainly the ones about the two of them, but too many of them were depressing and hard for him to read.

He headed into the bathroom where he found different words written on the bathroom mirror in marker. Percy froze as he started to read them.

We're only as good as the pain we've felt.

If the sky's the limit then why can't I get out of hell?

Life is shit. Truth doesn't exist. Pain is the only thing left.

Some lies are just too pretty for us to not believe.

Percy read them and realized her slow spiral and descent into madness, her loss of reality. There was a slip of paper on the counter which he picked up.

Close your eyes my love and take a breath,

Hold it tight as you walk off the ledge

Fill your lungs with water, your brain with death

Your hopes and dreams are gone with the rest

Hold my arms my love as you follow me home

Touch the signs on my arms, running red

Life isn't the illusion that we have been shown

And dreams aren't magic but hope dead.

Smile at me my love, your smile has turned cold

Your skin is ice and your eyes are dull

Buried in earth away from the sun's gold

My love we have lived life not even full

Percy crumpled up the piece of paper and threw it in the trashcan. No. Life was not like that. It was not an illusion. It couldn't be, there was so much more to live for. If only he could have told Annabeth that.

Storming back into her room with a fire that he hadn't had before, determined to find out who this uncle was that had abused her. Uncle M. The uncle that had turned her into the desperate girl she had become.

The girl who was lying dead.

Dead. And you couldn't bring back the dead from death.

He came tonight. Daddy wasn't here but he still insisted on coming in.

I didn't want him to come in and I tried to tell him.

He's downstairs right now.

I'm scared.

I'm terrified.

What do I do?

I'm just praying that Uncle Marc doesn't do anything tonight.

I just want to go to sleep.

Uncle Marc.

They had a name.

A name for the bastard which had caused this spiral and descent into darkness for Annabeth Chase. Percy sat on her bed and felt something underneath him. He pulled back the sheets and saw a pack of cigarettes. He picked them up and hurled them across the room, angered at the very sight of them.

How had he not known?

After he had called Detective Brunner he had stormed out of the house. But on his way out he found the letter on the kitchen counter.

Percy picked it up and looked at it.

It was addressed to him.

Had the police overlooked it? Or had they merely placed it there for him to find? He hoped that they hadn't read it. This was his last little bit of Annabeth Chase and it was addressed to him and he wanted to be the only one to read it.

Grabbing the letter he headed out the door and walked through the freezing cold air. He couldn't help but think how much it must have hurt.

"It must have hurt really bad when she hit the ground," Percy muttered to herself. "Did she regret it when it happened?" What if she wanted to have taken it back when she had suddenly done it? Would she have taken it all back?

Percy ignored the strange looks he got as he muttered to himself and climbed onto the city bus. The bus gave free rides past ten at night so that no one was stuck in the middle of nowhere without a place or a ride. He settled into a seat and opened the letter.

Percy

Don't blame yourself because I know that you are blaming yourself right now at this very moment. But don't you dare blame yourself. Please don't.

This was a long time coming and it just all snapped. It still could have happened. We don't know and I guess we'll never know so don't go crazy thinking about what could have happened because we can't go and change it all.

What's done is done.

I know that I already addressed you in my message but I wanted to write something to you because you're the best thing that ever happened to me.

I still remember when we first met. You tried to drown me in Caster's Creek when I was seven. You always were a fish in the water. That's really why I love Caster's Creek and the bridge. Because it's where I met you. I always used to think that if I was going to die somewhere I'd want to die there.

And I did die there.

It was nice to be in control of where you die at.

I love you Percy. This is a short letter but I love you. Always know that. And know that it wasn't your fault and it never will be. It was a lot of things. Not just one thing. There are always frontal reasons and underlying reasons. It might seem like you were the reason but that was only a frontal reason, there was so much more shit going on that you didn't know about.

I'm pretty sure that you've gone through all of my stuff or if you haven't it's okay, I give you permission. Maybe you can figure it all out.

But I just wanted to tell you: don't let it happen again.

Don't.

Please don't.

I'm entrusting you with a job to make sure it doesn't happen again. That some mother will never have to see her little girl dead because that little girl was bullied and no one knew. Or the grandpa that finds his grandson with the pills in his cold hands.

Just listen. And love.

Love someone like I loved you.

I hate goodbyes. But this isn't a goodbye. It's a… well it's a I love you letter.

I love you.

~Annabeth

Percy didn't know exactly where he was going.

He was just going somewhere just to go somewhere. Maybe he was trying to run from the pain. Maybe he was trying to hide from the reality of what had happened. He wasn't quite sure himself.

All he knew was that it hurt like hell.

There are some deaths in the world you'll never get over, there is pain that is always going to haunt you.

Scars don't heal.

Neither do deaths. You might think you've gotten over them. But you haven't.

And you never will.

o.O.o

He was staring at the hotel ceiling.

He could see it all coming around in his head. Every little detail.

The TV was still talking about it all. They had released that a Miss Annabeth Chase had been killed in the car crash. At only seventeen the world had lost one of its brightest and most talented minds.

He was glad that they didn't mention that it was suicide.

It was a week later and it still hurt. He was pretty sure that it always would.

No one that had found out that it was a suicide couldn't believe that Annabeth Chase would have taken her own life. She had always seemed like such a sweet and beautiful girl, always smiling and living her life to the fullest.

No one imagined that she was in trouble.

That's the hard thing about life. We can't know. And people are always telling us that. "Don't judge you don't know what they're going through." And yet we still judge. He remembered the little emails going around when he was in highschool about how the girl you're picking on for being fat is throwing up every night and all that. Sure that was good but how many people actually tried to get to know the person that was being bullied, tried to befriend the outcast.

The answer was not enough.

He was trying to hold onto everything that he could remember about her. He loved her so much that it hurt.

Love hurt.

But it was a good kind of hurt. Maybe that was what love was. Love was being vulnerable with them. Love was being willing to get hurt.

"How could you leave me?" He whispered quietly. But he knew that she couldn't hear him. She was dead.

And he knew why.

Life slips away from us so easily. There are so many things that we can't control, lives we don't know about end with only a single word.

To love and be loved is the greatest thing that can happen to a human.

And Death is a reality.

He rolled over onto his side. He missed her bad and it hurt so much.

And nothing he could do would bring her back to him.

The cuts and the bruises aren't going to heal

The scars on my heart aren't going to fade.

They're out for the world to see, all real

And the pain isn't going to back from what's made.

And I'm broken inside but looking at you

I see hope and maybe light

Because I know that you've been through it too.

And yet you haven't stopped the fight.

Love you're all that's left of me

Other than these cuts and these scars

The marks no one can even see

Unseen are the most painful by far

But maybe I'll breathe a little

Before my lungs fill with poison

And my bones turn brittle

Because I keep hearing all your voices.

O

Sometimes we like to deny it's reality. But it's real.

And there's no formula, there are no statistics for depression or anything like that, you don't have to fit these "criteria" to be depressed. So while this was thrown together in one day, this story is so much more than just a one shot.

I know most people don't read one shots because well… because they're one shots. But I hope that you read this and tell people about it.

And if you're suffering from things like this, please message me. I'm here for you and I'm going through the same thing so maybe we can help each other out. I'm a great listener and I don't judge.

Once again I don't know what this is. But… but I felt called to write this. So write it I did.

You are loved remember that.

~Luna-Incendia14

PS This story was based off of Hotel Ceiling by Rixton which was written by Ed Sheeran. It's seriously haunting and if you have the time please go and listen to it.

I can see it coming round full circle my friend.
On the TV they said they had reported you dead.
It was my fault 'cause I could've sworn that you said.
It was easy to find another for your bed.

How does it feel to leave me this way,
When all that you have's been lost in a day?
Everyone knows, but not what to say.
I've been wonderin' now.

I've been staring at the hotel ceiling,
Drinking everything I've found this evening,
Trying to hold on to the sweetest feeling,
So I'll never let you go, don't you leave me lonely.
Start to see this, everyone I know cannot believe this.
I'm trying to hold on to the sweetest feeling,
So I'll never let you go, don't you leave me lonely now.

When my eyes open morning pulls me into the view, no
I guess I'm only acting in the way that you do.
Just being alone, no.
Only time tells me more than I hope, all that I know is
I'll be finding a fortnight alone and behold.
I know I shouldn't have let you go.

I've been staring at the hotel ceiling,
Drinking everything I've found this evening,
Trying to hold on to the sweetest feeling,
So I'll never let you go, don't you leave me lonely.
Start to see this, everyone I know cannot believe this.
I'm trying to hold on to the sweetest feeling,
So I'll never let you go, don't you leave me lonely now.

I can see it coming round full circle, my friend.
On the TV they said they had reported you dead.