This is my first time writing something like this, so go easy on me.

This is sort-of based on the amazing SwimmingBoiWonder's story "A Second Chance at Life" which I strongly recommend you read.

DISCLAIMER: Your a retard if you think I own Percy Jackson.

Annabeth's POV

Pain. That's the only feeling I have left, and even that is being exploited. Soon I'll be completely numb.

They said I was strong-willed. They said I was on my way to the top. The said I was invincible.

Now look at me: just a shell of something that used to be a hero.

It all started the day we were supposed to burn Percy's shroud. Two weeks after the explosion on Mount St. Helens, and he has been silent. At first I had hope that he would come home: safe and sound. But as the days started to go on, I knew it was useless. He was gone.

To say that I was a total wreck was an understatement. I felt like there was nothing left to live for. Times were hard enough already, with the war with Kronos going on. Percy was the only person who could make me laugh when I was the verge of breaking. I already lost Thalia twice and Luke... I wanted to believe that there was a part of him that was still good; the Luke I used to know. But that didn't change the fact that he left. And now it seemed that Percy has left me, too.

It hurt so much. I just wanted for it to end; I wanted to follow him to Elysium.

Early enough for everyone to still be asleep, I left. Somehow I managed to get back to the city. How, I couldn't to tell you. I just walked around for an unknown amount of time, no destination in mind. Just go for a walk. You'll feel better after some time alone.

Yeah right.

"Annabeth?" a voice said behind me. It sounded faraway, as did everything else these days. Like they were on earth, and I was in Limbo. Half dead, half not.

I kept walking until a hand landed on my shoulder. "Annabeth, what's wrong?"

My eyes slowly traveled up the person's arm until they landed on their face. "Shelby?" I asked weakly. It's the first time I've spoken in days.

"Yes, it's me. What happened?" she asked, concerned.

Shelby and I met when I saved her from a hydra last year. Through the Mist, it just looked like a street gang.

"Nothing," I said unconvincingly.

She gave me a look. "Annabeth..."

"Fine," I sighed. "Percy..."

"You mean Percy Jackson? The best friend you were telling me about?"

Hearing his name out-loud is to much for me to bear (AN: I used the wrong 'bear' didn't I?). I burst into tears.

"Annabeth?" She gave me a hug, rubbing circles into my back. That made me cry more; Percy used to do that.

"He- He's gone!" I said over my sobbing.

She squeezed me tighter. "Oh, Beth. I'm so sorry."

Bull shit. When someone leaves you don't say sorry! It's completely useless to apologize for something you had nothing to with. Everybody should know that; Percy did.

I realize I'm angry. How could he think that he could take on over hundred telekhines by himself? How could he have not let me stay with him? How could he leave me? How could I let him?

Some Daughter of Athena I am. I could've come up with a logical way to get us both out but you know what I did. I kissed him and left. I left him to die.

Shelby noticed my change in mood. "I think I have something that will make you feel better."

My eyes narrowed. "What?"

"Come with me," she motioned for me to follow. We weaved through people on the busy street until we cam to an alley.

My demigod instincts kicked in. "Shelby..."

She faced me. For the first time I notice she's wearing a long trench coat. She smiled knowingly."Relax, Beth," she said soothingly. "I have something that will make you feel a lot better."

With every step she took toward me, I took a step backward. "Shelby, what..." Some how she managed to get me pinned against a wall.

I left my knife at camp. Stupid, I know, but it's not like it would be of much you in this situation.

Panic ran through me as she grinned. Slowly, she started to open her trench coat.

"SHEL-" I was confused. Underneath she was wearing a white t-shirt and skinny jeans. It was what was clipped to the inside of the coat itself that had me speechless.

Little Zip-Lock bags filled with white powder were in neat little rows, with white plastic strips in-between them.

She unclipped one bag and one strip and handed them to me.

I eyed them skeptically. "What is this?"

She chuckled and shook her head. "I thought you would have figured it out by now." I raised an eyebrow and she sighed. "It's crack."

If this was a cartoon, my eyes would have popped out of my head. "WHAT? SHELBY-"

"Annabeth, you're in grief. I'm just offering you a way to escape."

I eyed the bag again. The logical side of brain was screaming IS SHE INSANE? THIS STUFF IS ILLEGAL! PUT IT DOWN RIGHT NOW AND GO BACK TO CAMP!

But there was another part of me that wanted to do it. An escape. I can escape the pain.

"How do I use it?"

That was the last time I ever saw her. I found out later that she had been arrested for drug dealing.

I loved the effect it had on me. It numbed my senses; while I was high, the pain and hurt were forgotten. I felt alive for the first time in weeks.

Later that day, Percy came back. I hid the crack in the woods, where no one would ever find it.

It was months later when I had an unnatural craving for it. It was so intense that immediately ran toward the spot where it was hidden.

I promised myself that every time my emotions were to messed up to handle, I would take it.

That promise turned into doing it once a month, to every few weeks, to once a week, to a few times a week, to every day.

By the time I was 16, I was totally addicted.

An Apollo kid found me high one day, and told Chiron. Chiron tried to reason with me, to make me throw it away and never look back, but I couldn't. I was to proud and stubborn to admit that I had a problem and needed help. Since I wouldn't stop, he kicked me out of Camp Half-Blood.

My family and boarding school were in San Fransisco. All the people I know in New York I knew (who weren't in jail) were demigods. And the only one who lived anywhere near here was Percy. I couldn't go to him; i didn't want him to see me like this. He would take the bag away.

Now I wish that I had gone to him, or had listened to Chiron, or had never accepted the bag in the first place.

I was living in a box, begging for food, when they found me.

They said they could help. They said they would feed me, give me food, treat me like family if I was willing to help them with they're business. I was pretty much desperate by that point, so I accepted. They wanted me to do them a favor before they took me to my new home. Of course I said yes; they were offering me help, it's the least I could do.

I should've taken my chances on the streets.

They brought me to an alley, and took of they're belts. Next thing I know is I'm being beaten and raped.

That's pretty much how my life is now. The 'business' that they run is really them selling women to men for their pleasure.

Some how, I became the most in-demand prostitute they have. I am sent on 'assignments' nearly everyday. And the days that I'm not, my bosses or someone on their staff get to have their way with me.

The old me would would laugh if someone told her that this is what she was destined to be.

I have tried countless times to escape, but they always stopped me before I got more than five steps away from the building. And once they brought me back, I would get beaten again. Eventually I stopped, but the beatings didn't.

Of all the crap that I've done, my biggest regret is not saying goodbye to Percy. He could have taken me in. He could've made me stop.

He could've saved me.

That's it. I'll try to update soon.

REVIEW!

-LongLive