"Alone"
AN: I do not own Percy Jackson. Sadly.
Summary: Why do I have to be alone? Why doesn't anyone like me? Why can't they see under this thing called a mask? Why?
Being a daughter of Aphrodite was tough. You had to be skinny. You had to be pretty. You had to perfect. That word. Perfect. To have no faults. To have no flaws. Something everyone strives for. Perfection. Something I have strived for for years. Instead of becoming perfect as myself, I have constructed myself a mask. An impenetrable mask that can't be shot down. A mask has made others feel bad and crappy. A mask that made me feel like my soul was being sucked from my body. No one understands my pain. No one. All they see is cold and heartless Drew. Someone with no heart. Someone that doesn't care. I do care. It hurts to hear their whispers.
"Have you seen her."
"She has already broken up with four guys this week."
"Her clothing is disastrous, as always."
Don't you see that those words hurt. Screw the phrase Sticks and stones can break my bones but words can never hurt me. It's all a frickin' lie. Words hurt more than stick and stones. Of course no one cares about heartless Drew. No one checks if unforgiving Drew is alright. No one. Why? Because no one cares. No one.
I am alone.
