im sorry im sorry it's been so long and my writing style changed aGAIN GOMEN
PERI'S POV

I think today is a Monday.

Probably because those insane pink marble things the Icky Brothers gave us sent our group of four poor, unsuspecting little demigods shooting out of the water like a geyser and scattered like insects.

My lungs swelled with fresh air, but what should have been relief washing over me was instead a mixture of dread, apprehension, and a familiar feeling of sickness which overtook my body. Although my vision was blurred as I zoomed higher and higher in the air, I was painfully aware of one thing.

The green glow of my skin was beginning to fade.

And as gravity began to tug us back down to the churning waves below, panic was a sensation that hadn't even began to cover it.

I knew that I was going to splash into the water, and I knew that I could not swim, and I knew that I would sink. I could not do this alone. I could not save the world or my friends or even myself because I was just me.

I could not, I could not, I could not. I was helpless, and I would sink, and that would be the end of my story, no epilogue, no extended fan cut, no nothing.

But I still struggled relentlessly when the ocean swallowed me up like a monster, a starving beast whose stomach was like the darkest of caverns. I was sinking like a teenage-girl-sized anchor and there was nothing I could do about it.

I cast unheard screams into the abyss. My insides were screaming, blood was pounding in my ears, and every part of me was feeling icy cold. Like I'd never feel warm again.

Yet through the darkness, a glint of light caught my frantic eyes. The ring.

And I remembered what that weird fish centaur said to me not even moments ago in these very depths.

~ You are not alone. ~

And so I clenched my fists and squeezed my eyes shut because I was not alone. There was someone who cared about me. Someone strong and brave and powerful. Someone who would always be there because he promised he would do so.

Dad.

And it shocked me, the desperation of the sound of my very thoughts and wow I'm running out of air here.

Dad please! I need help! Help me! Dad? Please. . . ?

And I screamed and I screamed from the deepest recesses of my mind for him but it seemed like the call was dropped oops no signal sorry no bars down here under the sea kid try again later.

But as my lungs felt like they were being stepped on by an elephant and my brain felt squeezed and everything was torturous, I wondered if maybe this was for the best.

I hated myself for thinking so, but perhaps it was better for me to just die this way. I'd only been a demigod for like a week, but my life had been threatened at least a hundred times. I was tired of running for my life and fighting and early mornings with late nights and getting knocked unconscious and everything. I was tired of living like this.

Waking up like this.

I never thought I'd say this, but I wish I had never ran from St. Mary's. I wish I hadn't even gotten out of bed that day. I wish that I could go back to walking on the right side of the hallway and getting detention and pop quizzes and running laps and sleeping in on the weekends.

My chest felt unnaturally compressed, but I chuckled into the murky darkness.

At least now I could rest. In peace.

The last of the beams of sunlight filtered into black through the churning water, and I closed my eyes, succumbing to complete and total darkness.

I wouldn't have this weight on my shoulders any more. I wouldn't have this burden any longer. Maybe it was wrong. Maybe it was selfish. But at this point I didn't care. I always put others before myself. I always protected other people.

But when I needed help? When I needed protection? No one came for me. No one cared. So just this once, I will be selfish. I will think of myself.

And let go.

And when I felt my body, dense and lifeless, rising up, I knew that I'd made the right decision. I knew that if be happy this way.

But when I broke the surface, and overwhelmingly bright light shone on my face and I was sputtering and choking and wheezing and the ocean was surrounding me with its raw power and my head was pounding and my heart was thumping and my lungs were burning, I realized that I was not dead and I was not ascending to the great beyond or whatever but I was alive and here on earth and I wasn't sure if that was good or bad just quite yet.

On instinct I gulped down air until my lungs were filled to bursting, and the oxygen spread across my body so fast that it was a bittersweet sort of pain that overtook me. My throat was raw and ragged, and the stench of the sea was all around me all over me but I was alive I was breathing. I blinked the salt water out of my eyes trying to get my bearings, and from my blurred vision I could make out that I was breached on a round, black and white island bobbing in the water.

But before I could get my bearings, someone grabbed hold of me and squeezed me so tight that the air escaped my lungs with a woosh and held me close. My heart was still skipping and my hair was plastered to my forehead in soaking tangles and I'm pretty sure I had this caution: vomiting may occur face going on but this person didn't seem to care.

Because Leo's arms only wrapped around me tighter, holding me against his chest and whispering frantically against my temple how that was close- no, never let her go again. And Hazel's small hands stroked my hair as she sobbed quietly in my ear, half-scolding me for scaring the living daylights out of her.

And when our little black and white refuge in the water reared its head as a killer whale, whistling and crooning softly, I figured Frank was saying something along the lines of yes that's great and all now get off my back you guys are heavy. It was only an assumption but I was sure I was right. After all, killer whales can't cry.

Yet my mind was stilled then as Leo and Hazel held me entangled in their arms, rocking slowly, Leo's lips brushing my eyebrow and Hazel singing an old hymn softly against the churning waves at our feet and I was patting Frank's smooth head in some obscure way of saying thanks and everything was perfect and terrible at the same time.

I really hate Mondays.