Percy Jackson and Chaos - BOOK-2 - COMPLETED

Chapter - 18

Warning 🚧 - Self harm ahead. If it triggers you, please skip this part.

Luke couldn't stop shaking in fright and horror. Blood was dripping from Amy's shaking hands, and stained the floor. The knife was still in her strong, white hand. Her right arm was away from the body, and he could only stand and watch in horror at the reddened, bleeding scars running along her wrist.

He walked forward, as if in a trance, and held her left hand, not noticing her flinch.

"Drop it" He said, in a calm voice that didn't resemble his panicking state.

She didn't answer.

"Please. Drop it. Drop it now." His voice shook at the end.

Her knees started shaking, and the only thing that was holding her up was Luke.

"Please Amy.... Please... Just drop it...." He started to whisper, not trusting himself to talk any louder in fear of either shouting at the obviously depressed girl, or breaking down in front of her.

He heard the knife clattering on the ground, the only sound louder being his thudding heart.

He guided Amy towards the bed, and gently forced her to sit down. He quietly made his way to one of the cabinets, noticing with a hard heart that it was filled with gauzes, ambrosia and nectar.

He force-fed Amy with ambrosia, but stared in shock. The cuts weren't healing. Why weren't they healing?

"I can resist ambrosia." She said in a dangerously calm voice.

He put two fingers under her chin and forced her to look up. He almost let go in shock. Her normally bright sea-blue eyes were now a dull, bluish grey. They were empty, almost as if he were staring into a dead person's eye.

"Heal them"

She shook her head.

"Amy please... Just heal them.. You don't deserve this"

"You're right. I deserve worse"

He flinched, hard, but didn't say a word. He just grabbed some of the alcohol and the gauze bandages. She let him work. Luke gently rubbed the alcohol on the cuts, and bandaged them slowly. He put the medical stuff away, and washed his hands, before coming and sitting near Amy.

She stiffened, expecting pity or a question, but it quickly turned to shock when Luke flung his arms around her, burying his head in the crook of her neck.

His body was shaking, and dry sobs wracked his being.

She quickly wrapped her arms around him, wincing slightly at the rub of the bandage against her self-inflicted wounds.

"Don't do it. Don't do this to yourself" He whispered.

"I'm a murderer Luke.. That's what everyone says... Everyone dies because of me... And I live!! What else do I do? You almost died because of me in our last battle!!! Bianca almost died because of me in our first one!!! I fail... I failed everyone... I'm not good enough for this world... I can't... It's too much.... I just... Can't... I can't carry on.... Please.... Let me just give up...." Amy started sobbing.

The scene has ended.........................

Desperate, loud sobs wrenched itself out of her throat, and broke down the silence in the room. She stopped supporting her body, as she slid to the ground, dragging him with her.

He quietly let her break down. She needed the release. Her head was pressed against his chest, hidden away from view.

"I'm sorry.... I'm so sorry.... I should have noticed.... I'm sorry...." Luke kept whispering.