For those who blame themselves.
Percy is gone.
Dead.
Murdered, the light stolen from his eyes.
And you were broken.
Shattered.
A ceramic pot thrown onto a cement floor, its insides scattered about.
You didn't fight what came after, no, you were too proud.
You tried to cover it up. You tried to hide yourself.
And you see now how well that worked, don't you?
You tried to become a robot.
No emotions, just going through life as a computer.
No thoughts. Living on autopilot- not truly living, is it?
You, Daughter of Wisdom?
In all your intelligence, did you truly think that no one would notice?
You were hanging off a cliff, yet you expected us not to see.
Did you really think we would leave you, when you were the most vulnerable?
Why didn't you lean on us?
Did you forget that we cared?
We're your friends, and the burden is too heavy for one person to handle.
We're your friends, Annabeth, and we should have noticed.
Why didn't we see the signs?
But in the end, we noticed, but we were too late.
In the end, darling daughter of wisdom, your intelligence got the better of us.
In the end Annabeth, you walked alongside Percy once again.
And all we could do was question ourselves.
In the end, we were too late. We will always be too late, and it will always be our fault.