Title: Gaze
Word Count: 500-550
Character: Annabeth
Rating: K+
Annabeth knew why she always looked out of her window. Why she always stared past those tattered curtains, why she always stared into the scene beyond her reach.
It wasn't like she could just walk outside and see it clearly. No, the whole thing wasn't even real. She used to think it was real, and whenever she walked outside, there would only be the bare land.
Annabeth lived in a small house. If you could call it a house. The big building was rickety and barely standing. The floorboards on the attic would break if the lightest person stepped on it. Annabeth stayed on the first floor. The ground floor. The paint was peeling off, and the house was always dark. The whole place smelled faintly like wine. The fireplace was the only light the house provided.
There used to be something much more beautiful outside of the house. There used to be everything, from trees to fountains to lakes. Of course, there used to be people. Now there was just Annabeth, the house, and the clearing that seemed to go on forever.
Whenever she looked out of the window, she seemed to see what everything used to be. Back when things were peaceful. She knew it wasn't real. Maybe Annabeth was hallucinating. Maybe she was finally going insane. After all those years, maybe she had finally cracked.
Many years ago, war had struck. Everyone had left, everyone but Annabeth. They thought that she was crazy, that she'd be the first one killed. Annabeth couldn't bear to leave the place. But in the end, she was the only one who survived.
Annabeth didn't dare say the name of the place. She didn't even dare to think about it. It was far too painful. All of the destruction, everyone dying. And yet, whenever she looked out of the window, the place was still the same as before everything had left her.
Annabeth remembered when the house she stayed in was still painted blue. When the rivers weren't dry, when the trees were still standing. When everyone she cared about was still alive.
She didn't know if anyone she knew was still alive. If she was the only half-blood alive. Probably not. But she would never know. Annabeth would never leave the place. She had promised that she would stay in the house until her death. And so she stayed. Not 5, 10, 15, 20, or 30 years. She'd lost count at thirty-five. Even that seemed like a long time ago.
Annabeth didn't care. She was in the place she loved the most. The place that was her home. The place that would be her home for the rest of her life.
She gazed out of the window, seeing what she saw every time. The place that was gone but would always be in her heart. The place that was lost but would never die. It would never be gone. One day, she would be gone. No this place. The big house would always be standing, Annabeth had promised. And in a million years, the place would still exist.
Camp Half-Blood
End