I stare at the ocean, at the water lapping at my feet, surprisingly gentle and soothing for a daughter of Athena.

I remember the first time I had come here with Percy. We had been twelve, then, and the calm water suddenly roared up to douse me with water, but completely missing him.

Good to know I had Poseidon's approval.

Percy had burst into laughter and teased me mercilessly about it for weeks, until he found out I was afraid of spiders (thanks, Mom), and moved on to that instead.

The gods mess everything up.

They ruin everything, intervene in people's lives for their own amusement, make selfish mistakes, and force others pay the consequences.

If it weren't for them and their absolute stupidity, Percy would be here, teasing me, calling me his "Wise Girl."

Wise Girl.

If I had been so wise, he would be here.

I hate my cowardice, I hate my idiocy, and I hate myself. If I hadn't left him, I could have stopped it. I had the invisibility cap, I could have snuck up behind the telekhines and stabbed them with my knife from behind.

I hate the nights I spend tossing and turning. I hate the tears that fall down my face. I hate the eyes that stare back at me every day, in the mirror, dull and lifeless.

I hate my helplessness. I hate cringing when people talk calmly of his fate, or of the pain he must have suffered. I hate that I spend every moment of everyday at the ocean, water continuing it's steady flow of in and out, in and out, when nothing, can ever be steady again, when everything's all wrong, when the world should be falling apart.

I hate that I can't eat. I hate that I can't think of anything else. I hate that feeling on my shoulders, bearing down on me, and I'm back under the sky again, only this time there's no one to take it from me.

I hate that I'm a mess, and everyone knows it.

I hate their pitying glances, their "comforting" shoulder pats, their cheerful words.

"Annabeth?" a girl calls. I didn't care enough to try determine her identity.

"Yes?" I say icily, putting as much contempt into my voice as possible.

She looks me in the eye, and I am met with a startling shade of green.

For a moment I can believe it's Percy, until I take in smooth brown hair and a female body.

"It's time," she whispered. And in that moment, I knew.

I knew that it was over. All hope of him returning was shattered. All chances of my heart healing were over, and I was doomed to eternal heartbreak.

Well, to Hades with it. I wasn't going to let them see my cry. I was going to be strong, and I was going to fight back. I was going to hate the gods forever for what they've done for me, but no one will know behind my mask of self-preservation of emotional control.

But of course, just like my heart, my resolve broke when I saw his shroud, and I let out one long, piercing wail of despair.