Day 139
Dear Seaweed Brain,
Why am I writing you these letters? It's starting to seem pointless to me. I put all the thought and emotion I can muster into them, and does it change anything? Nope. No one can get a read on you, no one can tell me if you're even alive and here I am, writing down my feelings like a dumb, naive school girl. I'm a daughter of Athena for Poseidon's sake! Give me a riddle to solve, a test to answer, a monster to fight. Not this. The constant emptiness and fatigue and craziness. Nothing is a worse form of torture than waiting for you to come home. So yeah, here's another letter to you, Seaweed Brain. I don't plan on writing many more, you know. Once this stupid ship is built, we'll know, one way or another what the Fates have in store for us. And by the end of this, I swear I will be the most patient demigod ever. I guess I have you to thank for that, Percy.
Love, the girl who is still waiting,
Annabeth