I can't sleep anymore, I'm an insomniac. I want to sleep so badly though. My eyelids are slipping, they want to close. My eyes are red from opening them for so long. The bags under my eyes won't go away. I close my eyes, but sleep never arrives.

Why can't I sleep? Without sleep, I'm weak.

I'm just weak.


I'm not hungry. I haven't eaten dinner in three months. I haven't eaten lunch in even longer. I'm quite literally living off breakfast. It's so much, but so as to not worry my friends, I eat it all.

I feel fat. What am I supposed to do with all that extra substance in my stomach? They're just making me fatter.

I find myself next to a toilet bowl, my fingers shoved down my throat. I'm puking up the food in my stomach. I'm still fat, but baby steps.

Baby steps.


I feel empty. I'm so tired. I'm not that much of an insomniac anymore, more of a hypersomniac. I sleep so much, yet I still feel tired. Why don't I feel energy anymore?

I'm never happy, all my smiles are fake. Why can't anyone see through my poorly fitted facade? I'm not calling, I'm screaming for help. I know something's happening to me and I need help.

I need help but I can't ask for it by myself, I have to wait for others to offer me help. I'm a wimp, that's all I am.

Such a wimp.


I can't concentrate, my sword fighting abilities are slipping. I'm making so many careless mistakes it's not funny. Everyone keeps asking me to stop slacking off, to start focusing and to not be such a pain in the ass. They don't understand. They don't and will never. Why though? Why can't I just do things right for once? Is it just me?

Maybe what they say is true. I'm just a pain, a slacker, lazy and can't do anything right. I'm nothing, nothing at all.

Nothing, nothing at all.


I'm so tired, everything is so tiring. I just want to close my eyes and sleep. Then I just have to hope I'll never wake up.

Please don't wake me up.

Please don't.


Today, Jason asked me what was wrong with me. He said I'd been spending less time with him and the rest of our friends and seemed more out of it. He said that my cabin was giving off more depressing vibes. I faked a smile and answered that I was fine. He nodded and accepted it.

He didn't really notice what's in my cabin, did he? If he really did, he'd notice that I have a poster on an alternate meaning for "fine", or what the word "fine" hides. He doesn't know, he doesn't understand, he's just faking that concern.

I say I'm fine, but I'm really not.

I'm not.


The shadows are my new best friends, though my descent is just not that. I'm not Nico. Shadows… They don't judge me and they help me hide from others. It hurts though because no one notices me much anymore. When they do, it's always to snap at me, to chew me out for something I've not done wrong. Why?

I'm not sure, but I can't be bothered to find out.

Lazy.


I can't help but feel angry when I see people happy. Why do they get their happy endings, but not me? Why can't I get my happy ending? Annabeth and I broke up, and now she's with Piper, who broke up with Jason. But Jason's fine, he's perfectly fine. How? How does he manage that when I only just became more of a wreck?

I see green. Maybe it's jealousy? Why am I jealous anyway? I got what I deserved. I killed and harmed so many its only right I get what I deserve, the Arai taught me that.

I have no right.

What goes around comes around.

-.-.-.-

People aren't nice. My friends, they don't notice, but sometimes their words stab at my heart. It's fine when other strangers curse at me. They sting slightly, but they don't know me, so it's fine. When my friends call me an idiot jokingly though, it hurts like a stab in the back.

Today, Mom- no... Mother -told me to start doing my work. She doesn't understand, I'm trying, I'm trying my very best. Why doesn't she understand? I'm her son, and after all, she's known me for seventeen years. She called me lazy. It hurt.

Is this what betrayal feels like? Maybe that's all I am. Stupid and lazy.

Unhelpful.


I don't want to eat. Why can't they understand? I'm just not hungry.

No. Don't drag me to Dining Hall! I'm not hungry and I'm not going to eat, why can't you recognise that?!

I get it, it's not healthy. Who said any of this locking myself in my room thing is healthy either? I'm sorry but I'm not hungry.

No... I'm not an attention seeker... I think... Could you let me return to my room?

Attention whore.


The insomnia is back. The sleeplessness, the nights spent staring at the ceiling. It's restarting again. It stopped for a while, the insomnia, but it's back now. Why now of all times? The Fates hate me, don't they?

I can't stand the sleeplessness.

Sleeping pills it is then. Sleeping pills to force me to sleep.

One pill. Two pills. Three. Four. Five.

The sleeplessness finally stops, I slip into a forced sleep. Did I take too many pills though? No, right?

It's just barely enough.


The thoughts in my head are dark. They aren't suffocating or killing me, they're helping me. They help me weave an imaginary world where life for everyone else is so much better without me.

It's beautiful when I'm not around. Wouldn't it be so much better if I really wasn't? I'm just a waste of air.

Waste.


Stop it! Stop it! Stop trying to control me! I can't be restrained so just stop trying. The sea doesn't like to be restrained.

I'm perfectly fine, why are you dragging me to the infirmary? Others need more help than I do, let them have the attention instead! They need it!

What?! No! I am not depressed! I'm just sad! And empty! And angry! And...

I'm depressed, aren't I? I'm going crazy, aren't I?

I'm not me anymore.


There's a girl in front of me. I don't know her, I've never seen her before but she says she knows me. Her name is Night.

She has raven black long hair and beautiful sea green eyes. Her pale skin brings out her features. She dresses in a midnight black dress with green sparkles. She's beautiful and everything I ever wanted to be but can't ever be. She's the perfect female version of me, the me I can never be.

She knows my deepest darkest secrets, my every action, my greatest fears. If I didn't know better, I'd say she's me.

She makes me feel inferior, but I deserve it.

I deserve it all.


I'm angry. Why am I so angry? I don't even know this person! He's just a random guy -not even a demigod- who lives in New York! He just bumped into me! That's not much to freak out over, especially since it's normal for a New Yorker to bump into others passers-by!

Nothing makes sense anymore.

All I know is that he bumped into me. Then... Then what? I got mad right? No, fuming. I saw red. I lashed out at him. I'm seventeen and I scared the poor forty plus year old man into sobs. Am I really that bad when I'm mad?

I'm normally much calmer than this, what is wrong with me?

Everything is wrong with me.


There are streaks of blood on the floor in front of me, there's a blade in my hand. My pallor is gaunt and pale, the colour leaving me through the bleeding cuts on my wrists.

Please, I know what I'm doing is wrong, but it's my only way to cope.

I dig the blade into my wrist again, dragging it roughly across my wrist. Crimson red blood flows out of the wound. I sigh in relief.

I know it's wrong, but I don't ever want to stop. I want the blood to keep flowing, I want the pain to keep striking, I want it all to never end. Never ever ever ever ever. Well, other than the other way... Death...

I won't kill myself, cutting myself is just my way of coping. I can't die, I'm still needed by my friends, by the two camps, by Olympus...

I need the pain though.

It's my new lifeline.


Flowers die and bloom again. Leaves fall but grow again. The Sun sets but rises again. I can't.

I'm a flower that's forever wilted, a leaf that is forever fallen, a sun that is forever gone from the horizon.

I'm not me anymore, somebody please save me from this hell we call life.

A hell, that's what we live in.


Smile and smile and smile and fake.

Grin and grin and grin and fake.

Laugh and laugh and laugh and fake.

Live and live and live and fake.

I'm not living, I'm just a shell of who I used to be. Every day is sucking out more and more of my irreplaceable energy supply, is draining me of my will to live.

I'm not Percy anymore, I'm just a shell.

A shell who wants to go to the Underworld.

I just want to die.


Nico and Thalia have been hurt to near death, put into a coma. The people closest I have to a family on this side of a family, yet all I feel is a twinge of pain in my heart, nothing more nothing less.

Why can't I feel anything?

I'm just purely heartless.

A heartless bastard, that is.


The white floor is stained with red, the knives just won't stay sharp enough. Why…? Why can't they just stay sharp. I know its wrong, I know its not right, but I need it. My left arm is entirely numb, from all the cuts and loss of blood over the past month. My left arm is weak, but I've moved on to my right arm.

There are so many cuts. Heh. I counted… I think… There are roughly over three quarters of a hundred just purely on my left arm. So much blood loss…

I deserve the pain. Its a reflection of all that I've inflicted on others. I've inflicted so much pain on others, does that make me a bad person?

Yes, because I am one.


I've been cutting for slightly over three months. I've moved on from my wrists and arms though. My thighs work, so do my hips and my stomach area. More scars… So many… At least ten a day and over a rough amount of a hundred days…

It disgusted me that I wasn't at all the slightest bit freaked out over the blood and cuts.

Because I'm disgusting.


Word Count: 1871 words


(A/N: Hey~ One last thing before I fly. *sighs* I hate flying. *coughs* We-ell, besides the point, I've been in a depressing mood lately, so here's the first chapter of my next story. Its going to be short and quite trigger-filled in the beginning. And well... as I've said, I've been in a depressed and bitchy mood lately. So, excuse you if you want to review and rant about how dark my stories are. Read my fucking profile and see for yourself. Fuck that, read my username. DARK. COLD. SUMMER. Note: DARK and COLD. Which describes my fucking stories. I will laugh at the irony. A daughter of Hades who has a dark personality and a nickname of Summer. Ha.

... Sorry, I had to get that out there. I apologise for the cursing, but I do not regret my words.

Peace out!
Summer)