I do not own anything. All rights go to Rick Riordan.
Nico's POV
Looking back on it, I can't believe that I let myself turn into this. This monster. I knew it was true and everybody else told me it was true. I didn't used to be like this, not at all. I used to be a little kid, happy and innocent, but I had changed for the worst. I heard voices and felt urges to end my own life. How did I end up like this?
I guess it all started when Bianca died. Her death caused her face to haunt me in my dreams and my soul to shatter a little. Then, I watched how my mother died. That shattered my heart a little more. Then watching Annabeth and Percy together made it throb so much I clenched it until I fell asleep. Then there was Tartarus. That took out a large piece of my sanity. I didn't know if I had any left. But then I had the week in the jar, slowly starving. That took away whatever I had left. That's when I heard the voices for the first time.
The voices are something that has haunted me ever since. There are thousands of them, all talking at once. Sometimes they will be screaming, while other times they will whisper away until I start to scream. They tell me to do things, evil things, but I don't listen to them. I can't. Yet they have made me do some things, like cut myself. When my blood pores out they stop for a bit, just enough to fall asleep. I don't know why, but I don't question it. I learned that lesson like all the others, the hard way.
Campers looked at me with fear while my dad looked at me with distaste. They all hated me, I could tell. Yet I knew that when I was gone for good they would all fill up with quilt.
How did I turn from a innocent little boy to a broken soldier? Because of my twisted fate. That's why. I can never change it, never go back.