A/N: warnings for self harm, character death, and suicide. May be triggering so please dont read if you don't like.
Percy stared at the small, silver knife laying innocently on his nightstand. It was midnight and the camp was sleeping peacefully, the gentle sound of waves lapping on the beach. The moon's light shone through his window, illuminating the knife's blade. Stars glimmered in the night sky and Percy turned his head to stare at them through his window. He studied them for some time before moving his sorrowful gaze to the moon. It shone softly, as if it were trying to comfort him.
A tear slid down Percy's face as he forced himself to break away from the hold the moon had on him and instead return his attention to the knife on his nightstand. He hated that knife. He hated how weak he felt, how worthless he felt when he held it to his skin. He hated the way he depended on that knife for many years of his life.
But he also yearned for that knife. He wanted to hold it in his hands and watch as it's beautiful blade sliced open his skin in neat, horizontal lines. He wanted to feel the pain it caused because he felt that he deserved that pain. He couldn't save his friends and he told himself that he needed to be punished because of it.
Percy continued to study the knife as he pictured little red droplets rolling down his arm leaving a red trail behind it. He could almost feel the sting of the knife on his skin and the dark red liquid oozing to the surface.
Percy reached over and gently grasped the knife in his hand. He held it into the light, admiring the way the blade shinned brightly as it caught the moon beams. The handle, like the blade, was a delicate silver traced with designs that ran the length of the knife.
Percy closed his eyes and felt a soft breeze caress his cheek and ruffle his hair. He inhaled the sweet smell of strawberries and the salty smell of the sea. Beneath his hand he felt the soft fabric that made up his sea green blanket. He listened as crickets chirped and grass rustled in the wind. Percy took in everything he could and tried to memorize every feeling, every smell, every sound.
When he finally opened his eyes, Percy felt calmer than he ever had before. He once again returned his attention to the knife and slowly brought it up to the soft skin on his wrists. There, he hesitated. After a few moments, Percy felt determination course through him and he slide the blade across his skin.
Immediately, blood rose to the surface and slowly made its way down his arm, eventually dripping to the hard wood floor of his cabin. Percy sighed in content as the familiar pain rushed through his system. He raised the blade and made another cut right next to the first.
He continued to mark his skin and blood was soon running down his arm like a river and splashing to the floor. The moon illuminated the room in a steady, silver glow, unaware of the horrors that were happening just beyond its reach.
Soon Percy started feeling light headed and dizzy. He rested his head on the backboard of his bed and gingerly laid the knife down on the blanket beneath him. He watched as blood continued to spill out of the cuts, showing no signs of stopping. Percy continued to drift away from himself until he didn't even feel the pain anymore, only numbness.
Percy, realizing what that meant, let a sad smile settle on his face. He was finally going to be free. He was finally going to be in peace. No more pain, no more worries, no more feelings of being worthless or freakish. He was going to be ok.
As Percy felt himself slip away, he thought of the few good memories he had had in his life. He let them fill his mind and he could almost hear his friends laughing and talking cheerfully, all reunited once again.
Finally, Percy let go. He let go of everything and accepted relief and peace. He was finally free.