Not these guys again.
He had enough of these people. Strike back, or end it all... But he was too honourable to strike them.
They weren't worthy of being touched by his hand. It was true. Sometimes, they stooped so low, it wasn't even worthy of doing. They had used language that would make people sick. Their actions was not worthy of being recognised.
He shouldn't let them get to him. He had faced many, many more threats that were definitely more dangerous. He didn't even know why they did this to him. He left them in peace. The boy was the odd one out.
Bullies, the cheerleaders, the nerds, they all bullied him. Some were not very successful. Others really reached him.
Some people were able to bully him in such a bad way, they didn't realise that he was on the verge of something that was so horrible, that they would feel so guilty if this happened to him.
It was appalling.
He approached people sometimes and asked why they did this to him. They all replied with a simple insult or just walked away.
He couldn't get why, nothing helped. Only seemed to make him worse. Then one day something happened that was so bad, they couldn't speak. Nothing could change it, even though everyone wanted it to. With their black hearts and their very impure souls, they continued to push horrifc words onto him. It seemed like their only defence was words. They didn't realise that words were a weapon that could scar for life.
Especially this one. He had suffered trauma that was beyond limit.
For the greatest medicine was time and patience, but he didn't know if he wanted to wait and just cure it instantaneously...
With one simple way.
Many said it would be a service to the world. But would it really be? Noone but a select few would know the true answer. Some felt guilty, but kept on pushing due to peer pressure. He wondered if people could learn to listen to themselves. He wondered that if he ended it, if they would be able to wash away the stains of guilt and terrible feelings. Parents weren't there and didn't bother to find out what was going on.
His mother and step father was dead and all his family were gone.
The boy wondered if people could wash away the stains of guilt and other feelings. His first thought was no, but then again, these people had surprised him as well.
Noone cared and there was noone to stop him.
Then one day, he couldn't take it. Noone could take it. Especially the tragedy that he had faced, noone could ever do anything to stop him.
He was on a quest to stop the pain, and right now, there was only one way without harming someone else. So, then he would charge through. Drawing a weapon, he then plunged it into his body, his eyes wide, aware that he has done the deed, and there is no turning back now. His face turns pale.
He falls down, clutching what he caused to himself. Finally realising that this is what death feels like. A massive pain, but then it all ends.
The eyes droop, then he falls into his slumber, joining those of his kind.
But most of all, he joins his family and friends. Something he has not had during the past few years. He entered the realm of the underworld and went past his uncle, a very shocked face on him. He was finally at home.
In his paradise, in peace, but most of all, in death. Meanwhile, above, people were cracked. People searched for him, left the land of the living in insanity, caused the people that were still around, to finally realise the power of words and the blades that can cut through a human were not metal, or produced from steaming flames and cooled in water.
They were in your brain, awaiting to be unsheathed for use on anyone who enters that realm. Finally the power of words was unleashed on a man. Greater than anyone to ever walk this world.
Used on the one and only Percy Jackson.
School kids. The only thing that could tear him down. School kids.
For it was school kids that could tear down the mighty Percy Jackson...