Hey, Everyone!
So, I hope you enjoy this chapter! Some things happen in here. Nothing really too big and/or important.
I might have more time for FanFiction this week, and hopefully the rest of the summer to finish up my House of Hades story and to finish up this one before the summer ends. Thanks so much for being patient with me, guys!
Enjoy!
Chapter 7
I was sitting in the shower as the water pounded down on my head. My hair was soaked and wiry, and my clothes were sticking to my body like weights.
Weights filled with water.
Like me.
No, I told myself. You're better than that.
Am I?
What's wrong with me?
I'd been ignoring Luke. I didn't want to talk to him. I didn't want to know him. I didn't want to know anybody.
But I did. And I couldn't change that now.
I wanted to scream.
So I did.
The water pooled a little bit on my tongue. I screamed and I screamed until my screams turned into wails and I felt myself crying because I could taste the difference between the shower water and the salty tears.
He knows me, I thought as I screamed. He knows how I react to things. Why would he do this?
The world around me had gone silent. I felt like I had gone deaf. The only reason I knew I was still screaming was because I felt like the inside of my throat would rip out and fly out of my mouth if I screamed for another fifty seconds.
Because he wanted to hurt you, Annabeth, another voice sprouted in my head. A female voice, but not mine. I couldn't place it right now.
But I didn't trust it.
But I listened to it, anyway.
What do you mean? I asked her.
He was being purposefully vicious. But he was also being honest. You needed to hear it.
I was too confused. Too confused to sit in a shower and feel things.
I stopped screaming. My fifty seconds had long been over. My throat hurt.
I got up, and I couldn't remember whether or not I'd turned off the shower or not as I stepped out of my bathroom.
I left my apartment in my sopping wet clothes and stood outside the apartment complex in the small plaza. The sun was shining and it made me feel warm, even through the cold of the wet clothes.
What…what do I do? I thought.
"I don't know what to do," I said.
Fight back, the voice popped back in. Find a way to fight back.
"I don't think I can," I responded. "I don't have any weapons against him."
He doesn't have anything against you. Just because he threw the first punch doesn't mean he won. It's anyone's game.
Game.
"That's what this is, isn't it?" I asked. "It's a game."
Now you've got it, she said. All you need is the winning piece. Accompanied with the winning move, of course.
"Like chess," I said. People around me were starting to stare.
Yes. Only, in this game, you don't have exact rules.
"No?" I asked.
No.
"Then how do you win?"
You make moves until the other person can't anymore.
I nodded. I wondered if she could see me.
"What do you mean by 'exact' rules?"
You can't use what the other person already has. It won't work. Nothing can be used twice. Otherwise, anything goes.
I nodded again. "I understand. So, are we going to win?"
Of course, Annabeth. That's why I'm here, after all. To help you win.
I walked back inside. Winning. What move could I make?
I sat down on my couch, still soaked, and stared at my coffee table.
"Percy wasn't very nice with his first move," I commented.
I know, you think about it a lot, she replied. Yours has to be better.
"Nicer?"
Worse.
"Oh."
I know you can do it, Annabeth. He hurt you. Don't you want to see him hurt, too?
My answer was automatic. "Yes."
But that scared me. I didn't want to hurt people. That was wrong. I shouldn't have been thinking like that. I was going to get over this.
Annabeth, no! Sitting here is only hurting you! She said.
Sometimes I forgot she could read my thoughts.
"I don't want this," I told her, shaking my head. "I want to get through this on my own."
Fine, Annabeth. She sounded a little disappointed. This is for your own good, though. I'm trying to help you.
"Thanks, but no thanks."
I leaned back in my seat and appreciated the silence in my head that I hadn't had since last night.
The first thing I was going to do was call Luke. Or text him.
I walked back into my room, picked up my cell, and looked through my messages.
10 New Voicemails.
I deleted them all without listening to them.
54 Unread E-mails.
I deleted them all without reading them.
104 New Text Messages.
I read the last one he sent me.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. Please forgive me."
I raised an eyebrow. I texted back: Why are you apologizing? You haven't done anything.
He replied instantly: Then why are you ignoring me?
I typed quickly: I needed some alone time. To think and stuff. I'm sorry I ignored you, and I'm sorry I worried you.
Another beep: Did you get my messages?
I shook my head: You know I don't listen to my voicemails.
Another beep: Thought it was worth a shot.
I hesitated before typing the next one: Will you come over and be with me now?
He didn't respond right away. Then: I'll be there in a minute.
I dropped my phone on the couch and walked into my room to change my clothes. I was getting too cold in the air conditioned room.
I ran my fingers through my hair and sat back down on the couch to wait for him.
There was a knock after a minute and I opened the door and Luke stood there, smiling.
I stepped back to let him in.
He stepped inside.
I closed the door.
He looked at me.
And I looked at him.
I threw myself into his arms and he caught me. And he held me. And I pressed my face into his neck and he whispered, "I missed you."
"Stay with me," I replied, so quietly I doubted he could hear it.
"I wouldn't leave for the world."
I pulled my face out of his neck so I could give him a kiss.
"You're a treasure, Annie," he whispered as he tucked some of my hair behind my ear. "A real gift."
Thanks for Reading!