"I would sail the seven seas for you if I weren't afraid of drowning."
You know when you're alone when you see nothing but turned heads, when you feel nothing but apathy, when you can only hear the voices that whisper to you in the back of your mind. There isn't really a cause or beginning to when you start to realize that you're so horribly different and scarred. Bony hands reach out and try to grasp you, your arms, legs, hair, scratch your eyes out.
There really isn't anything left for you here, your past, your home. Dead, that's all that's around you, that's all you are. Wanting to be alone is one thing, but being lonely- abandonedtreasonedliedhurt- is something else.
With nothing but yourself and a horse bearing wings, you ride your way, out of home, or what it used to be. With every sound, your finger twitch, begging to hold a weapon, something to protect you. Anything. You run, fleeing from your own footsteps.
Of course, no one notices your absence. Because your only one- hopelesstreacherousdangerous- person. They're running, and soon, you can't keep up. She's not looking at you. She's not there.
Gods, the water. The dark churning water that seems to make you want to die before touching it. The suffocating-
"You alright?"
"Fine, just fine."
But everyone knows you're not.
The cold. Burning. Killing. Fire. Water. Kill. Death. Die. Kill me. Water. Drowning. Lonely. Alone. Eternal. Torture.
"You know you can't escape. They're not coming for you."
"Let her go! Take me instead!"
"As you wish."
Lieslieslieslieslies.
Screams. Wat-
There's a hand waving in front of your face- a face devoid of emotion, so vacant and stony.
"Come back to us, Kelp Head. Can't have you sleeping on the job."
You can hear the joke. You can hear the concern. You can hear the lieslieslies.
They know. They see. Remember this? Remember me?
Anxiety.
Blood. Cold. Water. Fire. Death. Burning.
"Where is she?"
"Gone."
"Where?" You're frantic.
"You told me to let her go. I did."
Death. Kill. Fire. Water. Drowning-
Voices.
"-xiety attack. He has major PTSD. You know that... You know, ever since the war-"
"There's nothing we can do to change that. He's not coming back. He won't be the same."
Breathe. Let it burn, watch it turn to ashes. Suffocate in wate-
"He's coming to!"
Too many faces. Too much noise. Too many hands- grabbingscratchingpulling- on you.
Spiders. They're everywhere, crawling over your hands. You can't move. Ants parade into your eyes, eating up your sanity. The black crows peck at you until there's nothing left but raw bone.
Screaming fills your ears. It takes a second to realize it's you.
Pain. Stop. Please. Fire. Burning. Water. Suffocate.
"Percy!"
The following day, you're back on your feet, doing your best to ignore the stares.
"Scared, demigod?"
"If I were, I wouldn't be here."
"Oooh, simple statement, boy. It will not be enough."
"Vengeance is all I need. You killed her."
Blond curls still haunt you.
"No, you did."
"Impossible." Her eyes, piercing grey eyes.
"You told me to drop her. She fell. Downdowndown, Jackson. You told me to."
There's a hand on your shoulder. Brown eyes look into yours in concern.
"You can trust me, Percy."
"I know, Rey, I know."
That's enough for now.
Finally, you get to Camp Demigod- where the Greeks and Romans unite. Your feet ache but you don't stop walking. Don't stop moving onandonandon.
You walk to the sea.
"Father," you say. "Father, help me. I- I'm going mad! I can't-can't... I can't do this anymore. Please! Give me some sign. What did I do wrong?" The words fall pitifully, losing itself in the harsh wind that starts up.
My fault, my fault. She's dead because of me. Drown. Suffocate. Fire. Burn. Blood.
"Why won't you answer me?! What did I do? Please?" You can't stop the tears. Can't stop anythinganythinganything.
You sit alone on the hilltop, surveying the city below you. You can hear voices, laughing. Having fun.
You hear footsteps. You tense, waiting for the blow that would never come.
"Hey."
"Hi, Reyna."
"You don't have to be so lonely, you know. You have me. You have us." She gestured to all the civilians down on the streets.
"They don't understand, not that they'll want to, anyway."
"Hmm." She loops a piece of dark hair around her index finger.
"Annabeth! Come back! Please don't leave me!"
Dead. Broken. Pain. Fire. Burning. Blood.
You see Rey's concerned face. You hate it, all the sorrowful stares.
She sighs quietly before saying, "You're all I have left, you know."
You don't reply.
She walks away, back down to the principia and the burn-SPQR- on her forearm seems to be the only thing you see.
You want her to come back, but you don't call out or reach for her. She's all you have, too.
It was only a matter of time.
Day after day, you don't show your face. They begin to worry. You hide, they seek. It's a pitiful game. If you don't want to be found, they won't find you.
"I'm sorry, Rey. Forgive me." And then you ran without a glance back.
You don't notice the lone figure watching from the hill. She doesn't cry, but- if you looked- you could almost see the tears that threatened to spill. She wants to chase you, hold you.
But Reyna understands. She lets you go.
"Which is more pitiful, Jackson, the pawn, or the player?"
The player is deceptive. The pawn is weak. But the words can't form in your mouth.
Blood.
"They're not coming for you. You'll have to escape yourself, and you know, boy, that that'll never happen."
You know. And when you're gone, you don't turn back. You don't grab her lifeless body before running because you're selfishselfishselfish. You never forgive yourself. Because you left her with that monster.
By now, you hope you're dead. Your legs are sore and your mind goes crazy. Father doesn't listen. Mother is dead.
Blind. That's all they are. They can't see the bit of sadness that'll blossom under the weight of depression.
So much blood.
There's a gasp and fluttery little hands and a recognizable voice.
"Percy! My gods, what happened?"
You're silent. You want to speak, but your lips are sealed.
"D-do you remember me?" she asks, as if scared for an answer.
To ease her, you nod. Her name was one you'd long since forgotten.
"Well, I... I'm glad to see you again."
You offer a tentative smile. She laughs, and it's like music that clears away all worries.
Blond hair. Grey eyes. Daggers. Blood.
She stops when she sees your pained face. You want to tell her to keep laughing, but all you can manage is-
"Calypso-"
She looks at you in worry, in an over-protective manner. She wraps her arms around you in a hug. It's warm.
Fire. Blood. Burning. Salt. Blood. Water. Drowning. Blood.
"Calypso, help me."
She looks up at you. Her auburn hair is knotted into a loose braid that falls on her shoulder.
"With what, Perseus?"
"I need to get away... Away from the water."
Her eyebrows shoot up in worry, but helps you nonetheless. She seems to understand that you've been through trauma and torture without asking. She offers no condolence, but instead freedom. Freedom from being chased, from war, from water, from bloodlust.
She traces her hand over a scar that ran from the nape of your neck to your torso.
"Percy-" she revels in shock.
"Leave it," you say numbly.
She just stares at you with pity- something you can't escape from. But you need a home, somewhere to find a purpose. You suppose this is the best you could do.
You stay with her for one year.
"Percy! Arg!" You can hear her screams, begging the pain to stop. But it won't.
"Percy, please! Help me!"
You can't move from your bound state on the wall. You shake the chains inevitably.
"Annabeth! Annabeth! Oh, dear gods..."
There's nothing you can do except listen to her screams turn to whimpers until they finally fade into a great nothingness.
You let out a shout of fury.
Death. Blood. Scars. Pain. Fire. Burning. Water. Scars. Drowning. Fear, fearfearfear.
You sit with her in the garden with moonlace at your toes.
"I can't stay."
She smiles a sad, knowing smile.
"I know.
A week later, she sends you off with a farewell kiss on the cheek. You accept no provisions. No help. You need to do this alone. After all, you need nothing since you chose the easy way out.
You have a hearty dose of nostalgia when you see the island fading away. The ocean is at your feet. It sloshes around on the raft. You scoot towards the centre, far away from the water as possible.
Water. Suffocate. Burn. Fire. Blood. Scars.
The underworld isn't typically a hard place to get into. Surprisingly, you go through without trouble, as if all knows what you are doing.
You feel a pull; a hint of fear starts to form. It's right there. The Pit, Tartarus. The endless maze of monsters and rage. You almost fall in. Since when were you this close to the edge? You were meters away before.
The pull is there again. You dare it your worst.
It is silent and calm.
The earth rumbles in protest as you force your way through the mud. You're almost there.
You pass the Styx. It flows slowly like lava.
Burn. Scar.
You keep walking. There is no need to run.
They're all dead.
The hushed whispers float around you. They point- that used to be Perseus Jackson.
Fire. Burn. Kill.
After a period in time passes, your feet walk themselves to a pure, clean, river. You look in. Only your bitter face stares back, its eyes screaming in pain.
You reach down to touch the water with your fingertips.
It's cool and refreshing to your calloused hands. You revel in your peace.
You continue on and on and on.
There comes a time when people are faced with decisions they come to regret. The dark clouds that douse out our senses takes its toll. There isn't a once upon a time or a happily ever after this time. Perhaps there never was. Perhaps that was how it was meant to be.
All it took was one touch, and the river claimed you. Lethe did not take chances.
And, dear mortals, he forgot.
He forgot, and he died.
I suppose he did get his happily-ever-after-not-really because, in the end, he did get to see her again. The girl with the princess curls and grey eyes.
The dark-haired girl smiled, for he had finally gotten his peace.
The red-haired girl rejoiced, for he had found his love yet again.
There are many things I do not understand, nor will you. But I must point out that there is a certain time in life that makes everything so despicably easy, yet so unbearably difficult.
But once upon a time in a faraway place, where the star twinkle and the wind sings, you will find a miserable boy with eyes as dark and dangerous as the sea. But in the end, he didn't get the ending he wanted, but it was an ending, so it was good enough. And that, I suppose, is his happily ever after.
"All I wanted to say,
was that this love
doesn't happen everyday."