.x Pandora's Box x.
.
"The human heart has hidden treasures,
In secret kept, in silence sealed;
The thoughts, the hopes, the dreams, the pleasures,
Whose charms were broken if revealed."
-Charlotte Brontë
Cry
He cried his first night at boarding school.
He couldn't remember where the feeling of loss first started, but he knew when it came out. At night, he remembered, when everything was still and there were no distractions. When there was nothing to stop him from remembering that he was all by himself.
He was so young, only six, and the thought of being so far away from his mother scared him. He knew that they were still in the same state, but the fact that she was not here with him, was far too much.
So he bit his tongue to hold everything back, and pulled the sheet over his head. The sheets had formed their own fragile, but secure covering, and there he was safe. But he still could not let it out; he could not run the risk on anyone seeing him.
The older boys were mean and he knew, even as young as he was, what would happen to him if they ever saw him. They would tease him and call him a baby and make the school year a lot tougher than it would already be. So he held back his sniffles and tried to think of a happier time in his young life. But it didn't work, it couldn't work, not when every memory was filled with his mother's warm smile.
So when the lights went out, and when he was sure everyone was sleeping, he cried. He let the silent tears fall down his cheeks and lull him to bed. And when he woke up, it would be better. Everything was always better after he cried. Because when he woke up, it was one day closer to seeing his mommy again.
After that night, he never cried again.
~o~
He hated crying, in fact, he despised it. So he never cried. He didn't know when he first started to hate it, but he knew why he did.
There was no one who was there for him or his mother, it was just the two of them together and alone. So he needed to be strong for her sake. His mother had a lot to deal with, so he needed to do all he could to help her, and crying did nothing but get in the way.
So he shut his tears off and held everything in. This wasn't when he was six -- crying wasn't acceptable then, and it wasn't acceptable now.
Every time he felt the tears threatening to be free, he silenced them, using his fists instead. Fighting rarely solved everything for him, but it stopped his tears, and that was all that mattered.
~o~
The scene played over and over again in his head.
The image of his mother trying to fend of such a monster was the only thing he could see. His last moments of her...
She hadn't stood a chance against such a monster. From what he had heard, not a lot of people did, yet she still fought against it. She saved him, like she always did. The perfect mom, his friends had always said, and she was, but now, she was gone.
His mind was in a state of confusion and chaos. A million memories flooded him: memories of her, of all the things she had always done for him and the memory of her disappearing in the cloud of gold right before his eyes were all thrown together in one big mess.
A train wreck, that's what it was... that's what he was. His memories, his feelings, his thoughts were all crashing into each other, and he knew what would happen.
He had tried to never cry for the sake of his mother. He needed to be strong for her, but she wasn't here anymore...
This time he knew when the feeling of loss started. This time, he knew exactly what was going to happen. So for the first time in six years, he held his tongue, and pulled the sheet over his head. After all these years, they still provided the same secure, yet fragile protection he needed. But he wouldn't cry, because this time, things would not get better. He would not wake up and be one day closer to seeing her. This time, it was no more.
It was his first night at Camp Half-Blood.
He cried that night too.
Just a brief A/N: Okay, that's all for this. This chapter was when based on when Percy thought his mother had died. I sincerely hoped you liked it, and would really appreciate it if you'd review. Flames are accepted, just for the record.
Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson and the Olympians, and am in no way profiting off of these.
Next chapter: Shame
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