Percy hated himself. Why may you ask? One look and you could see he had it all. A supportive and loving family, beautiful girlfriend, amazing friends, fit body, star of the swim team, and already on a full ride to college. So why you may ask? Just look in the mirror. Lifeless, gaunt eyes, ugly scars littered all over his body, stupid messy hair, and an irreversible sense that everyone pitied him, of what he been through, of what he had to do. Was he only really needed to save the world? To only be there to lend a helping hand? To be used by the gods as their dutiful helper?
Percy hated himself. Why may you ask? He wanted a peaceful life, tired of all the killing and constant training necessary for his sake. He wanted to settle down and live out the rest of his days without a fight. He tired of the way his friends and campmates looked at him, whispered to each other of his adventures, of his sufferings. He wanted to be seen as a normal guy, someone appreciated for who he was and not for what he has done. Was that too much to ask for? To just be appreciated as the person he was?
Percy hated himself. Why may you ask? A glance and you wouldn't assume of the terrible nightmares he had at night, the memories of his friends dying whenever he closed his eyes, and the knowledge that he knew everything that happened to them, it was all his fault. Worthless. He could've, should've, been smarter, safer, more cautious. He cost them their lives. Beckendorf, Michael, Silena, Leo, Luke, Castor, Bianca. Gone.
Percy hated himself. Why may you ask?
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A/N: First fanfiction, so I guess leave criticism and anything else you think I could improve on. Was written in the span of 20 minutes so not my best. Was also feeling a bit down at the time.