Percy sat alone.
He sat at a desk facing a window.
It had to be 2'o clock at night, maybe even later.
The sounds of his own loneliness permeated throughout the house. His house. He was alone in a house.
"That's the way of the world." he was reminded.
The events preceding his loneliness were very complex, very surreal, and very hazy.
He reached for the bottle, only to realize it was empty.
Was life the only thing he had to live for?
He didn't know. The bottle didn't either. Rather than aid him for an answer, it only seemed to drown his thoughts in more haze than normal.
He tried to remember the events of the previous day.
Annabeth was dead, he knew that.
But how? How had she died?
He thought long and hard.
He couldn't remember.
He reached for the bottle. His hand missed and he knocked it over.
Suddenly a bang erupted from the desk. The bottle had fallen onto a bloody pistol that was lying on his desk.
The pistol had been facing Percy, but he hadn't known it.
A sharp pain flooded Percy's right shoulder.
He felt his screams of pain were louder than the pistol being discharged.
As his blood trickled down his arm, he thought about Annabeth's death.
It was only a few hours ago.
He looked to his left, away from his shoulder.
He noticed a figure lying on the ground in a pool of blood.
...
It was Annabeth's body.
Suddenly he remembered the events that had led to his current state.
They were hazy.
He had been drinking.
"Percy, all you do is sit there and drink! What happened to you? What happened to our relationship?"
" *hic* shutup bish.. you don't know me.."
"Percy.. I.. I love you!"
"DON'T YOU TALK THAT WAY TO ME YOU LIAR"
"I'm not a liar, what is wrong with you?"
"your butt looks big"
"HOW COULD YOU SAY THAT YOU JERK"
*bang*
He'd shot her. It was self-defense though. Annabeth was coming at him, he knew it.
Percy lay there as his blood dripped to the ground.
He smiled.
He got up and went for another bottle.
