Darkness surrounded Nico. The only thing visible was black. There was no way at all to see—even for Nico. The loudest sound within miles of the boy was the faint rhythm of his footsteps. He loved it.
He had left the camp two weeks ago through a strange rock. After that he had somehow ended up here. Wherever here was, Nico had no idea. But it was dark and silent. It was the perfect place for him. The depressing feel of the room was what his sister deserved as she was being mourned. Unlike the happy feel of camp, this place provided a better atmosphere to think about his sister. Complete darkness was what he needed, not pats on the back and friendly smiles. No matter what anyone said, he was too old for that, he had insisted. The eerie silence suited his mood and the blackness felt comfortable. Nico was as happy as he could be after losing his sister.
For whatever reason, darkness had always soothed Nico. Unlike most children, he had never wanted a nightlight. He always wanted that full vision of black. It didn't feel dangerous. It actually felt calming. He had never been afraid of the dark; he never saw any reason to be. For some reason, he had always felt more at home in that shadowy environment. It made no sense to him, but now, nothing in Nico's life made sense. His strange habits were becoming more peculiar. He had every reason to question his love of the dark, yet he never did, not once. Nico just accepted it.
The silence was beautiful, but not in the sappy way it is in romance films where everything seems perfect and the spectacularly cliché couple leans in to share a kiss. It was beautiful in the way that Nico had time to think. He had time to sort things out. At times the quietness would deafen him. It would make him want to scream and break it all. Something about it would make him stay still, however. He didn't want to disturb it. The soundless air was like a dangerous animal, something terrifying, fascinating, wonderful, and undisturbed at all costs. Nico did his best to keep his footsteps and breathing as quiet as possible. It felt like it would be a crime to ruin the graceful sound of nothing. He had to adore the silence. Even in his depressed state, Nico smiled at the way it was so placid and uninterrupted. He hadn't smiled much since his sister had gone, but there was no way not to appreciate the quietness.
Lying on his back, Nico gazed up at what was either a ceiling or a very black sky. He wouldn't know, for he had no source of light. He assumed that somewhere way up there, or possibly a few feet above his height (Nico had no way of knowing; he couldn't see three inches in front of himself), there was a ceiling, because there would most likely be at least one star, plane, or something,in the sky. Some part of this was acceptable. Not knowing was something Nico had learned to deal with. Not knowing was his life. Not knowing his parents, not knowing the first eight or nine years of his life, not knowing how he ended up at Westover Hall, not knowing anything was just another part of Nico's life by now. He had learned to accept, and even sort of enjoy being unaware of something. Sometimes it stopped you from seeing painful things that you wished you hadn't. Like Bianca. He wished he didn't know about Bianca. He wished he hadn't been so sure of her death. Maybe if he hadn't known, he could believe that she was still alive out in the desert. Maybe he could convince himself that Zoë, Percy, Thalia, and Grover just didn't look hard enough, and she was out there somewhere. In this darkness, Nico could believe that Bianca's spirit was next to him. He could pretend like Bianca was sitting beside him without saying anything, but still managing to comfort him. That was how things were before she joined the Hunters, went on the quest, and left him forever. That was the way things had always worked. He could fool himself into believing that this was still how things worked. If he could do this, he almost felt secure. If he convinced himself that Bianca was still with him, maybe he could get some sleep. With the idea in his head, things felt okay.
Nothing could stay okay, though. Nico's life was never an easy ride. Sunlight, noise, other people within two miles of him—all of those things would interrupt his perfect dreams of having his sister with him again. Dreams. They disturbed him, too. Dying people, especially Bianca, would interrupt his pleasant thoughts. He wished that he could be truly alone. Having Bianca with him would have been fantastic, but, for now, that was out of reach. Being alone with no sounds, light, or people to disturb him would be wonderful. It would be as close to perfection as he would get now.
You would think Nico would become lonely. He never did. Sure, he missed his sister. That couldn't be avoided, but he felt at home. The darkness that surrounded him was like a soft, warm blanket. It was comforting, yet he still had no idea why. The silence was his lullaby. No one was there to put his thoughts to an end. He loved it.
A/N: So, Nico. That was fun. Ha. Short-lived, more like it. And yes. I did in fact repeat "He loved it." on purpose. 'Cuz I'm a jerk. Well. Anyway. Nico is Nico. I'm still unsure. Sort of like it, but sort of don't. It's ish. Sorry. Only about .5% of the population understands why I'm laughing at that. Okay. So, that would be chapter two, I suppose. Updates either really soon, or Sunday or something (if you care)... I'm unpredictable like that.
-Lexi