Idiot: Eeey, yo! U dat chik hoo owns PJO rite?
Me: No, I don't, and I never will.
Idiot: u sure, breh? Coz I thot u did. Watevr $$$ Y0ung M0n3y $wag #tw3rk
Yeah. I don't own PJO. Bye.
Annabeth
"I can't stay, I'm being kicked out."
The words rang dismally in my ears. The last thing I wanted to happen was becoming a reality before my very eyes. Kicked out? I thought to myself. No, that can't be right. They've only kicked one person out in my entire time here, and that was so long ago. Hades, Luke wasn't even technically removed! Selfish anger boiled my blood. The feeling lasted mere seconds, until I looked back at Percy's hunched over form. Rays of sun streamed through the window down onto him, only making the sight more depressing. I looked at him, and saw that it was tearing him apart just as much, if not more, as it was for me. I felt tears run down either side of my face and realized I had been crying. For how long, I had no idea.
I pulled up the crew neck of my camp tee and wiped them away quickly. I walked slowly over to him, my heavy footsteps echoed in the near silent cabin. I sat down next to the son of Poseidon, intent on telling him something. At last, I decided against it, and simply laid my head on his shoulder. When he finally left, I remained in the same position.
Throughout the day, people would stop in and ask if I was okay. I replied the same formulated answer each time. "I'm fine. I'll be out in a few minutes, I promise." But I never did. I felt as if, as long as I never moved, time would freeze. So that's what I did. Never moved, never spoke more than the same sentence. I just stared blankly, utterly stupefied. Day turned to dusk, dusk turned to dark; I would've stayed inside all night if I could've. If only it hadn't been for Malcolm.
It was the third time he had visited, and I could tell it was him by his footsteps. He shut the door quietly behind him and turned on the overhead light. I flinched slightly and the sudden brightness. Malcolm made his way over to me and squatted down beside me, balancing on the balls of his feet. "Annabeth," he said. "You need to come back, now. It's almost curfew." "Malcolm, I told you, I'll be out in a few minutes. I'm fine, really." He exhaled sharply as he stood and said "Don't give me that "I'm fine" crap. People who are "fine" don't sit, alone, in a cabin all day. Tell me what's wrong." "Nothing," I replied numbly. "Tell me what's wrong." he commanded, anger evident in his voice. His patience was wearing thin.
"Nothing's wrong."
"Lies. Tell me now."
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because I can't."
"Why can't you?"
"Because you wouldn't understand!"
"I wouldn't understand what? Talk to me!"
Our voices raised steadily as the argument continued. Neither of us would back down. Eventually we were standing face to face, full-out screaming ourselves hoarse. "WHY WON'T YOU TELL ME?" he yelled. "BECAUSE I CAN'T!" I retorted harshly. "WHY?"
"BECAUSE I CAN'T ADMIT THAT HE'S GONE!"
I collapsed to the ground, crying. Sobbing. Bawling. All the tears I had restrained myself from letting out were released like a flooded dam. Malcolm approached me slowly and sat down. He pulled me to him, placing my head in his lap. "Shh, it's okay, sis. It's alright." he cooed as he stroked my head. I'd never seen this side of him before.
We stayed like that for quite a while, and he talked to me the whole time. He told me that he did understand how I felt. How, when he first came to camp and learned about the gods, he ran out of camp. He said it was because he knew that if he was leaving his moral life, he had to go tell someone something. He went to go admit his feelings to a girl he liked. He hadn't any idea that he was being followed. The thing that was following him, he can't remember what it was, tried to kill him. "I guess she just got stuck in the crossfire." He had said with misty eyes. "And I always thought I'd sneak into the underworld and take her back. I couldn't realize that the dead should stay dead, I had to cling onto the hope that I could still have her. But, eventually, I let go. And the weight of her death was lifted off me; I was free from that sorrow, and I've never been happier."
He looked down at me and told me the only thing that was able to get me going again. "You have to do the same thing and let go of your worry. Let go of your dread, and you'll have free arms to hold him when he comes back." He gave me a little smirk and added, "I'll try not to walk in on you two when you do."
I sat up, took a deep breath, and did the only thing I could do. I hugged my brother. "Thank you Malcolm," I whispered. "but if you tell anyone about this, I'll have to kill you." He simply chuckled and replied, "I was about to say the same thing to you."
Ooo, dat different POV doe. I had major writers block so I decided to shake it up a bit.
A few things before I ask the questionio. Numero uno! I posted a one-shot a little bit ago, so go ahead and check that out if you want to be super amazing. I know you all are ;-). Numero dos! I also have a new poll up, and it would mean a whole lot if you guys would go and vote on it. I won't tell you what it is, you'll have to look to know! Numero tres! Bobothebookworm just got a Twitter! Go follow her itstheboboshow for amazing-ness and to tell her "It's about time! Geez, we thought you were stuck in the Stone Age!".
Idiot: Eeey, yo!
Me: Oh great, you again.
Idiot: y u mak funa hur? Do u got a Twitter?
Me: Yes, I do. It's cHiLdOfHaDeS877 (yes, the username is obnoxious. Why? It's ironic, of course.)
Idiot: Wel than y u no tel us til now?
Me: Because now is the perfect opportunity
So go follow her, follow me if you want as well, and we can all have a cool people party on Twitter. I'll be posting updates on Twitter, so you can be the first to know when I do stuff.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNNNNNNYYYYYYYYYWAYS tweet tweet.
Question of the Chaptererer: What should I call you guys? I feel like I should have a name so I can address all of you with love. Except you, David. How dare you come here?! LEAVE AT ONCE! Go ahead and leave suggestions in the reviews, and we'll see what we can come up with! Or, tweet it at me. It'll be nice to see some creative ideas flowing. And, as always, Stacy's mom does have it going on, and have a nice life!
