Disclaimer: I do not own PJO or any of its characters
A/N: Sooooooooooooo... Um... I was looking through the files of my old computer and found this. It's really depressing, and there's suicide at the end, so trigger warnings I guess... Now I have to explain it, because it's a poem and therefore doesn't make any sense unless you read this part (at least, in my opinion). I didn't really include names, but I changed the genders around a bit and made it so that the protagonist is Nico (the "dark one"). The boy at the beginning is Percy (the "sea-green eyes"), and Annabeth is "the girl," never really characterized. The idea is that Percy and Annabeth found out that Nico was gay and had a crush on Percy, but in a skewed way, probably that Nico was plotting to break them up (which isn't true, Nico is my baby and I would never let him do anything like that). So Percy's really hurt and Annabeth's just furious. So Percy's talking with Nico first and then Annabeth comes in and yells at him, but what they don't know is how on-the-brink Nico is, and they unknowingly (in their blind, emotional rage) send him over the edge (which is why there's suicide at the end, but just so you know, it's not, like, in gory detail or anything. No blood. No sharp objects, either). I want to edit this and make it better, because I feel that this could be really cool, but I'm not sure where to start, so reviews are always super helpful!
Monster
Tears streak down the boy's face
diamonds and pearls dripping onto the counter
his face flushed, sea-green eyes puffy,
voice creaking and cracking as he speaks
the dark one's face is expressionless
the poker face he's practiced so much, knows so well
underneath, turmoil erupts
bubbling, boiling anger, sweeping sadness, loathing
only of himself, of course
those sea-green eyes could never do wrong
but he keeps his face straight
listens . . .
the girl enters the room,
anger a boiling vat of oil
sputtering
hissing
crackling
the boy's shoulders tense
his emotions shut off abruptly
his spine goes rigid as a plank of wood
don't meet her eyes
when she speaks
don't cry, don't cry, don't you dare cry
take her words
let them hurt
let them burn your skin and boil your blood
shatter your bones and split your heart down the middle
go empty inside
do they even know what they're doing?
his heart shrivels away
the blank face isn't an act now
the world is stark and barren
no one to save him now
her voice cuts through the air
piercing like knives
wounding like knives
hurting like knives
don't show weakness
don't give the vultures an opening
don't let them slip in
cut your losses
so they can't hurt you like this again
he keeps his words to himself
biting his lip savagely
focus on the pain
use it to avoid the tears
to keep the words from bursting out your mouth
leave the room
yells for him to come back
he doesn't look back
doesn't know what to feel
hopes not feeling anything doesn't mean
he's dead inside
his feet pad on the gravel road
retreat, retreat, there is no victory
no treaty to be made
the war is too far gone
sit against the cabin door
his dead heart pounding dully
there is nothing in his mind
no regret, no sorrow, no nothing
not anymore
they are not there for him
all the times they swore—
No.
closes his eyes
takes a deep, shuddering breath
alone,
a fragile sculpture of glass
so vulnerable
he hates his weakness
so he slides the guilt off his face
straightens his posture
swallows the words of apology
he'd ventured onto the battlefield to pronounce
not that he was ever given a chance
to say them
too late now
he left the battlefield
a lost little boy
no one willing to hold him
So he dons his armor once again
Walls around his thoughts
Iron-clad in armor
He cannot be hurt now
He is safe
But what is safe?
Loneliness, emptiness
Is that safe?
their angry voices rising up from below
taunting, teasing, haunting, infuriating
they are putting on a show they know he can hear
he has to hear
is that safe?
shutting his mind
resolving to let no one slip in again
only to wreak havoc on himself
is that safe?
he knows it's not
and yet . . .
the armor is donned
tarnished, dully gleaming, dented
still functional
still he wears a mask
so no one can ever wound him
like they can
like they have
like they will
just another example of the danger of love
love can do terrifying things
make you ready to give up your life
and then it is just carelessly tossed aside
with a few simple words
distrust, disgust, distaste
that is what they think of
when they think of him
ugly, mean, stupid, cruel, faggot
he is the boy of death, after all
how could he be anything
but wrong?
a monster?
he preys on the weak
death, death, death
and feeds on the strength it gives him
death, death, death
at least
according to the campers
what did they do to deserve this? they say
incredulously viewing the monster
the monster they have created
monster
the word burns like ice
monster
he blinks back tears
monster
he is getting stronger now
monster
his eyes snap open
clear and bright
cold and lost
monster
their voices fade
they cannot hurt her now
he cannot imagine ever needing them
or so he tells himself
monster
how will he ever smile again?
a fake smile curves his lips
practice makes perfect
he is perfect at disguise
a master, an expert
he can survive
he will survive
he will thrive
he will die inside
but he will appear to live
appear to smile
appear to laugh, to love
what will living a life of lies
do to a soul?
only one way to find out
mine has been fine so far,
he insists to himself
quelling the shaking in his hands
I am still alive, he says
but as he speaks the words
as they leap from his tongue
like falcons diving into flight
he knows it is false
you can hear it in his voice
a husk of a human being
is not a human
I am not human, he concludes
and is surprised by how empty he feels
numb
nothing at all
what a big surprise
he welcomes the emptiness
tells it to make itself home
it is better than sorrow
than heartbreak
than betrayal
than loss
than anger
than guilt
than pent-up words never to be spoken
is it really?
he knows it's killing him
is it better?
does he care?
does he want it to?
maybe.
like a drug, he welcomes it
lets it take away the pain
give him some sleep tonight
for once
the pills are white and perfect
disappearing off the counter
he wonders if it will hurt
and then decides it doesn't matter
for it will all be over.
let his mind rest
his body sleep
at peace
finally
but what is peace?
something good
so it must have nothing to do with him
for he is a monster
eyes closed against the light
a monster
resting on a bed of white
waiting for the end
he knows,
he thinks drowsily,
brain muddled and unfocused
it is what they say
and
they
are
never
w
r
o
n
g
.
