Percy Jackson's parents died when he was 17.
And will stay in a foster home until he turns 18.
He has yet to tell the camp.
And he doesn't intend to ever tell them.
Because if he does, he'll break down right in front of them.
And that'll make them lose hope.
Hope in what you say?
They all will lose hope in their hero and just replace him with someone else.
Don't show weakness or else someone will use that time to strike and hurt you.
At least that's what Lupa had said.
But his friends has seen those dark circles under his eyes.
Are you okay? They'd ask.
A practiced smile makes its way on his face as his eyes fill with fake mirth.
Of course I am! Why wouldn't I be?
But it's all a lie.
One big fat, ugly lie.
I don't deserve to live, he thinks to himself as he lays on his unfamiliar bed, If I was dead, I could be with my family again.
Percy frowned. I hope they're all in the Elysium.
He cried himself to sleep that night.
Ψ
It was the weekend and put on his camp t-shirt and headed off, saying goodbye to Lucy (His foster mother, she was nice, but will never be his mom).
Percy arrived at camp, smiling and waving at everyone, just happy to be there.
But he knew deep inside that he was just stalling.
Stalling the emotions.
Stalling truth.
Stalling himself.
Ψ
Percy went on to teach the sword lessons, giving out fake smiles and forced enthusiasm everywhere.
At the end of the day, he realized that he couldn't just commit suicide. It's not like they're all going to go to the Elysium.
the Fates have one hell of a sense of humor he thought miserably as he sat down on his bed.
Percy grabbed a picture of him and his family from his table side.
It's not fair.
.
.
.
Noice. Here's some angsty percy here.
PM me or just tell me through reviews if I should to a part 2.
Bye!
