Backbiter by Annabeth Chase

Chapter Eleven: Polyphemus' Island

(The Sea of Monsters pg 199 - 230)

When we were far enough away from the island that I couldn't hear anything I let Percy know it was safe. He took out those ridiculous ear plugs and came to sit next to me.

"You okay?" He asked and then winced, realizing that wasn't a good question.

I wanted to apologize again but I couldn't find the strength. I couldn't find the courage to thank him for saving me when he should have just let me drown in my foolish pursuit of knowledge. Instead, I whispered, "I didn't realize ... I didn't realize how powerful the temptation would be."

"I saw the way you rebuilt Manhattan," he said. "And Luke and your parents."

"You saw that?" I felt embarrassed but he didn't seem mad or upset. I was also kind of curious about what he had noticed compared to what I had been focused on.

"What Luke told you back on the Princess Andromeda, about starting the world from scratch ... that really got to you, huh?" I wished he was right, I had already known about that desire. If that had been the focus of what the sirens had shown me things would have been a lot easier.

I didn't know how to explain it to him. How do you tell someone about your deepest most primal fear? How do you explain to someone that you are worried the only way anyone could truly care about you is if you rebuilt the world from scratch?

I had never been able to figure out how other people saw me. I couldn't figure out what they were thinking. No matter how hard I tried, how much I studied or how closely I observed people, I was always missing something. I could plan for just about everything but there was always a chance that people wouldn't react the way I anticipated. Even the gods seemed easy to understand in comparison, at least they always did what you expected them to.

The sirens had shown me a world where I could control that piece of the puzzle as well and that world had been perfect. I decided maybe I could explain that part of things to Percy instead of all the interpersonal feelings stuff.

"My fatal flaw. That's what the sirens showed me. My fatal flaw is hubris," I said.

"The brown stuff they spread on veggie sandwiches?" Percy asked with a very confused (and freaking adorable) look on his face.

"No, Seaweed Brain," I said, rolling my eyes and almost managing a smile, "That's hummus, hubris is worse."

"What could be worse than hummus?" he asked, and I might have laughed if I hadn't just spent every ounce of energy I had sobbing. He was doing a terrific job helping me feel better.

"Hubris means deadly pride, Percy. Thinking you can do things better than anyone else ... even the gods."

"You feel that way?" Percy asked and I thought about it. Everyone always talked about how much I wanted to control everything, and it was true that I wanted people to do what I told them. I wanted people to follow rules that made sense to me. It drove me crazy that they wouldn't do that.

"Don't you ever feel like, what if the world really is messed up? What if we could do it all over again from scratch? No more war, nobody homeless, no more summer reading homework," I added something I thought he might connect with.

"I'm listening," he said with a smile.

"I mean, the West is supposed to represent a lot of the best things mankind ever did — that's why the flame is still burning. That's why Olympus is still around. But sometimes you just see the bad stuff, you know? And you start thinking the way Luke does. 'If I could tear this all down, start over, I would do it better.' Don't you ever feel that way? Like you could do a better job if you ran the world."