A/N: The plot line for this story is inspired by Percabeth, by Oldmanmah. She's an awesome writer, and you should go read her stuff. This story was edited be my friend, Amelia, also known as TheIntelligentBlonde. You should read her stuff too.
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters and suchlike. Yet. *evil laugh*
Dark Side of the Moon
"Wait," I pleaded as my fingers skimmed Percy's hoody in a feeble attempt to pull him backwards and waver his decision. The tip of his sneaker was suspended between the Camp Half-Blood border and the mortal world.
He whipped a round to face me in an irrational haste, knocking my fingers off his back in the process. He directed a brutal glare at me, his sea green eyes reflecting an image of abhorrence and antagonism that would put Ares to shame.
"Give me one good reason to stay! You're a traitor! Thalia and I work our asses off to capture Luke and you just release him?"
"But I-," I tried to utter the words that would prevent him abandoning me. If I allowed him to leave, I knew he would never return.
"No excuses. You chose him over me! It's over! I can't believe I ever trusted you, Annebeth. I hate you!"
His words were a dagger plunged into my heart. The dagger embedded so deep that crater of my heart was beyond a hope of repair. My knees buckled and I crumpled to the ground, burying by self in the internal, agonizing pain. Stinging tears bit at the frames of my eyes, emerging from their imprisonment despite my attempts to contain them. And as the only soul I had ever loved vanished from my window of vision, I lay in the dew-laced grass, broken.
An hour later
As I sobbed mournfully, my knees tucked into my chest, I sensed the presence of a familiar hand clapped on my shoulder. Gazing up, my eyes were met by the ancient and vastly knowledgeable eyes of Chiron. Shadowing the noble centaur was Thalia and Grover.
"Don't worry, Annabeth," Grover said, voice breaking in a failing attempt to lift my spirits. "He just needs time to cool off. I'm sure he'll forgive you"
To me however, it was apparent that Grover was attempting to convince himself as much as me. I suppose I should give him credit for trying to serve as a bleak comfort, but I couldn't raise myself from the ashes of heartbreak enough to believe him.
"I don't know," Thalia muttered, obviously still stricken with rage towards me. "If she hadn't gone and took pity on that undeserving back-stabber, Luke, then Percy wouldn't have left. And if you ask me it was a wise decision, too."
With salt infused tears threatening to descend, I plowed through them, shaken from the taunt of my mistake. I sprinted down the gravel path, too distracted acknowledge the stones and pebbles grinding viciously into the bare soles of my feet. I dodged bystanding campers, ignoring their crude remarks as I scanned the arch of cabins for number 6, my cabin.
Spotting the ajar door, I hurled myself through it and weaved past a maze of bunk beds to the bathroom. While enduring my chorus of sobs, I fished through my bag of toiletries and my fist grasps my shaving razor.
Oblivious to any stabs and cuts of the action, I plucked a blade from the contraption prepared to deny its designated use. My hands, quivering I raised it heroically to the velvet cloak of skin on my wrist. For a brief moment I hesitated, Percy's words echoing in my head, each one a ripple of anguish.
I hate you…
I hate you…
I hate you…
For every pain sticking my heart, for every banished thought of the love who had abandoned me by cause of my own tactless actions, I lacerated my arms, now covered in slits. The delicious agony soothed the blazing fire I battled emotionally with the blistering reality that keeps me connected this ruthless world. It's impossible to not to find comfort in the crimson liquor of my own blood.
As the tedious days drag on and on, they flicker in to weeks and weeks flicker into a month, and a month becomes two. With every mocking, red sharpied x on the calendar, my poignant lonesomeness continues to grow while my happiness continues to dwindle. My world was a vast blanket of darkness and I was the solitary soul who had been abounded in its plague.