They betrayed him, threw him away like old trash, ignoring him and hating him, blaming it all on him. But you see, it was not always like that, no. He was loved by them all at the start. It's really funny how people change in the blink of an eye isn't it? Well, he thought so.
Now, he had saved them, for he truly loved them with his heart and soul. Well, he used to anyways. It was funny how things changed, within the blink of an eye, leaving you reeling, floundering, not knowing what you could do as everything you relied on was torn from your grasp. Okay, maybe it wasn't that funny. "More ironic," he mused, laying in the small cove he had found and now stayed - James didn't want him in his room. As if it was his in the first place.
You see, the irony lay in the situation itself. First he was scorned: "Oh you're dyslexic, and have ADHD!" "Idiot, you can't even spell right." "What a loser!" "Get away from me freak! I hate you!" Oh yes, he was used to it, the pain inside. It constantly nagged at him as their words; their cruel hurtful words were constantly thrown at him, leaving him without a reprieve. It was like the first word they said that hurt him, more than teasing or usual bullying, has pushed a sword in his heart. He couldn't breathe, his chest hurt too much and some nights, some nights he would lie in his bed crying and gasping and calling for help. He screamed internally; begging for someone, anyone, to please, please help him. He was dying, he was sure of it, and yet he lived on. If only he had stopped there, maybe, just maybe he would be able to cope with the loss and try to be move on. But as it was, the words never stopped coming, twisting the sword further and further. There was no blood, for some wounds just cut too deep.
Then he was brought home. Curiously, that was what is used to be to him, a haven from the cruel reality he was born into. Sometimes he wondered, perhaps he was brought into a fate much worse. No longer was he able to call that place home. It was like it was a completely different place, looking the same, but in some warped alternate reality where nothing was right. Despite all that, he did find it home when he came back from his first quest, looking forward to a warm bed and the chance to spend time with people he loved. That was the same feeling he had when he saved it. Home was the reason he stood up despite his weariness when he fought for it.
The people there were family. They once looked up to him, trusting him, loving him, treating him as though he belonged. He thought he once did. They expected things from him – great things. He lived up to their expectations. He shoved his fears away, not caring about the consequences of his actions. "As long as they were safe." That was his mantra, for the knowledge that those he loved wouldn't have to be at the front-lines always drove him to stand there himself. He drew battle plans with the others even as him mind screamed from all the blood that already dripped from his hands. He fought like a demon, cutting through opponents like butter, uncaring if he received wounds, as long as they didn't.
He fought for his home, and he saved it. Against all odds, his home survived, as well as his family. "Oh thank you!" they said. "Yes, we need you to save us again!" they smiled. "We love you! You are the best!" they cheered for him when he won their battles. "We need you!" they cried for everything they wanted to be done. Yeah well, funny how long that lasted. He fought again and again for them, accepting everything they threw at him only because they were his family. When he thought about it he nearly laughed, stopped only by the pain that shot through his heart. What a fool he was! To believe that he could trust! To believe that he could love!
True enough, within a moment they changed. They were somewhat like the ocean, he realised, one second they would be calm, a bright blue paradise that drew him in and make him want to stay there forever. Before he knew it, they had shed their disguise, revealing a grey-eyed monster that would kill without a seconds pause. And murder they did, senselessly wounding him as they ran their cold, sickening hands along the scars that already existed, both by his hand and by the hand of others. They took pleasure in reopening past wounds, slicing a sword through his skin like he did to others for them.
It was torture, living. He didn't think he was living anymore, deciding that he was just surviving. He was just passing every meaningless day, letting the time pass excruciatingly slowly as he slowly faded away in the background, not one person realising he was gone until it was far, far too late. What if he was already that far gone? He didn't know. What he did know was that no matter how hard he tried it would go on.
Fate really was a bitch huh? You see, my name is Perseus Jackson, and I was betrayed by everyone that I loved.