I don't know what happened, but you have to be extremely bored to be a fifteen year old kid, staying up until four o' clock in the morning writing novels and fanfictions. i'll tell you, it's tiring. Enjoy the story, and warn/tell me if it goes too far. P.S. I don't own PJO or anything that goes with it.
Betrayal. The simple breath it takes to speak one single word can mean the end to the life you thought you could live and pretend to have and shatter the world around you. One little word can lead to disaster.
The ratio of words to actions in this case is the equivalent of feathers to bricks, heavier to carry with you, but it can often strike more to the emotions than to the physical parts to a person's people, when they hear the word betrayal, think of one definition:
The definition that comes to mind is a form of treason, but more shallow, less definite to the world.
But I know a different form of the word. To me, the ultimate betrayal would be having you turn against yourself.
There I was, sitting at my table in Camp Half-Blood, my favorite place in the world, staring at the table across and to the right of mine: the Athena table.
More intently, I was staring at the one person from the cabin who seemed to understand me more than anyone at camp. Annabeth Chase was my best friend and also the person I've grown to admire the most of anyone I've ever met. You could even go to say I liked her . . . maybe.
Anyway, I was staring at Annabeth because over the last few days, she's been quiet and antisocial, the exact opposite of what she usually is; an open-minded and constructive person who wasn't afraid to speak her mind, and it worried me because I thought it may have been something I did, and she was out casting everyone because of me. That's the last thing I wanted; I didn't have very many friends at camp, spare Annabeth and my satyr friend Grover so making her mad was not a brilliant idea—especially with her knife always close by.
Now before you get off and assume that I think Annabeth is mad and it's all my fault; boo-hoo me; think again. I'm just worried for her, that's all.
After dinner I took a stroll down to the Athena cabin to talk with Annabeth. The door was open, but I knocked anyway.
"Knock knock. Annabeth, you home?"
The only response was a sniffle. I looked over towards her bunk and found my friend lying face down on her pillow. She was sobbing.
I walked over to her sympathetically. "What's wrong?" I asked.
Annabeth inhaled through her nose sharply, "It's nothing Percy," she said, "Just go away." Though it was muffled from under the pillow.
I sat myself down on the bed, careful not to sit on her. "It's not 'nothing' that makes you cry. Now tell me what the problem is."
She lifted her head off of the pillow and looked at me. Her eyes were red and she had tears dripping from her cheeks. "I told you it's nothing Percy, now if you respect me, you'll leave me alone."
I didn't feel like making her anonymous situation any worse so I backed off and left her alone with one last comment. "Alright, but you know, if you ever want to come talk to me about it, I'm here for you."
As I walked out the door, I ran into Annabeth's half-sister, Sophia.
"Oh, sorry Percy." She said.
I thought for half a second and pulled Sophia aside.
"What are you doing?" she practically screamed at me.
"Hold on a second." I said. "I need to talk to you."
"About what?" she asked, though it came out pretty harsh.
"Do you know what's up with Annabeth lately?"
She met my gaze and for a second her grey eyes flashed, like I'd insulted her grandmother or something, but they calmed just as quickly and grew into a look of concern. "I don't know, it's been worrying me and she won't talk to anyone about it, she's not in the mood for sword fighting or architecture, or anything. It's really unlike her."
I stared up at the sky, "Tell her to come by the Poseidon cabin when she feels up to it."
"Sure Percy." She said.
She nodded and walked inside her cabin.
Chapter one: Done. I'm thinking about five. Keep reading them and I'll keep writing.