Hello, people of fanfiction! This is my first story, so no flames please, but constructive criticism is welcomed and loved.
Disclaimer: First of all, I'm a girl. And I'm only 13. Therefore, I'm not Rick Riordan, the genius that invented the little miracle we call Percy Jackson.
Sorry for typos and OOCness!
Annabeth's POV
I couldn't get enough sun. Not after…. That place. I would lay on the beach every day from sunrise- when the nightmares would wake me- to sunset, when it would get cold and dark again.
After the Giant War, I'd gone back to San Francisco to live with my dad, stepmom, and half-brothers Bobby and Matthew. My dad tried to help me with my PTSD, but I knew he didn't really understand what I was going through. My stepmom, Bobby, and Matthew were nice enough, when they weren't avoiding me like the plague.
I would still talk with Thals, Pipes, and Hazel occasionally, but they had to IM me if they wanted to talk. They tried to talk to me at least once a week, attempting to break me out of my shell. It didn't work.
The only person I would really still talk to is Sally. I would IM her almost every day, and we'd talk for hours. We tried not to bring him up, because anytime we did, we both would burst into tears.
I thought I'd felt true pain in Tartarus, but in reality, the hurt didn't come until later.
The true pain was that Percy wasn't coming home.
Percy was dead, and I was alone.
That was really depressing. If this really happens, well, me and my friends have our pitchforks ready. How did I do though? Lemme know! Reviews make me happy! Thanks for reading!
-Orange