You Don't Have The Courage.

The claw slashed your back, going fairly deep. You hiss in pain but kill the hell-hound, you nod at Clarisse as she guides the new, young camper inside the boundaries. You grab your knife from where you dropped it, you start to work your way toward Thalia's tree stumbling a god bit of the way. You lean heavily on the pine for a while getting your bearings straight, pressing your hand to the wound you pull it back to see a far amount of blood, pressing your hand back harder to staunch the blood. You start toward your cabin know that if you stayed near the tree to long someone would notice and take you to the infirmary. Finally after an agonizing amount of time you get to your cabin, you enter sighing in realization that you cabin mates have arts and crafts at this time.

You shuffle you way to your bed, hissing in pain as you lower yourself down, you grab the bandages off your night table and wince at the sight of the wound. You wrap it tightly and take the halfway empty pill bottle off the stand. You don't trust nectar and ambrosia after they failed to save him. You look at he pill bottle, it would be so easy, but you wouldn't.

You don't have the courage to do it, to kill yourself.

You shake your head trying to dispel the thought, you couldn't, wouldn't do that to your brothers and sisters.

Opening the bottle becomes a task with your shaking hands; when you finally get it open you take two. Your back is really painful. You start to think back to that day, that day almost a year ago, the day that will haunt you forever, the day they died.

The day he died.

Gods, your back really hurts, you take two more pills.

You think back to Thalia, looking at the photo taken of them after the battle on Mount. Tam. You realize with a start you haven't seen her since the memorial after the war; almost nine months ago.

Man, your back is killing you, you open the bottle and take three more.

You think about the 'perfect' family you father had, the ones that cast you out, the ones that abandoned you. The ones that forced you to run away and live on the streets, at the young age of seven. The ones that have caused emotionally pain for years. Yes, you made up, but still, does the pain of abandonment ever truly go away.

Gods dammit, your back is still causing you extreme pain. You take four more.

You think about your life, the lives of demigods in general. A painful existence that only cause more and more pain with the years. You yourself having seen many campers not make it to the next summer. Many friends, many brothers and sisters, many children and teenagers, never make it to high school or college.

The pain in your back won't leave you take three more pills.

You think of the family you had for a little while on the Argo II. All under the ludicrous idea that they could all survive the war without coming out scarred forever physically and emotionally. Or even come out at all.

Jeez, the pain in your back is not even loosing some of it's edge. You take three more.

Again you think about suicide. Everything's starting to go fuzzy. All the sounds of camp, of your home. No what used to be your home. It hasn't been home in almost a year, at least not since he has been gone.

All the sounds are getting fainter as the seconds tick by. Your still thinking of it, of suicide, when everything goes black.

But you still don't have the courage.

Thanks for Reading! Maybe pop a review?

-bookhugs

Disclaimer: I don't own Percy Jackson and the Olympians or The Heroes of Olympus, all rights are to the author.