𝓍𝓍𝓋𝒾𝒾. She hated being alone

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。 ₊°༺❤︎༻°₊ 。

What's left of you?

How am I supposed to tell you

I don't wanna see you with anyone but me

。 ₊°༺❤︎༻°₊ 。


❤︎ Helena Colette was usually never found alone, especially in recent months.

She had Ethan and Nico; before them she had Percy and before him, she had her father, but now Percy wasn't there and Ethan and Nico had gone out with her older brother Mark, who had decided to visit before his trip to Australia with his mother and her father was off fighting a giant monster that could very well cause the end of the gods. 

She hated being alone.

She hated the silence, the way she could hear her own heart beat and if she tried hard enough; sometimes she could have sworn she heard the very blood in her body move. Which she was pretty sure was impossible unless she had some type of disease or a stethoscope; she didn't, although she did have a stethoscope in her drawer, but that was beside the point.

She hated being alone. 

It's like the world around her slows; it turns to static.

Everything she heard—voices, sounds, horns—all sounded like they were underwater. Her vision would blur and everything would become hazy. She would be home one minute and three blocks away the next. 

She had been worried about it for a while, scared that she had some type of brain tumour. 

See, when you study diseases, bones, and the like, you become hyperaware of, well, everything. The sudden sharp pain in your chest. It could have been a one-off thing but what if you actually had cancer?

She tended to overthink about those things. She had been so worried about her health that one day her father had appeared out of nowhere Apollo in tow and made him check on her. She was fine, which she had suspected but still she was unsettled. 

Her father had told her later on that Apollo owed him a favour or two.

There might have been nothing physically wrong with her but there was something wrong; she just had this feeling that something was going to go wrong. It was like a persistent ringing in her mind. Sometimes it would be barely noticeable and others it would make her cry from discomfort.

Recently, or should she say ever since she broke up with Percy, it was the latter.

Helena walks around her apartment cleaning up the barely there messes (Ethan hated when things were dirty) and wiping down tables she had already wiped down not even five minutes ago.

See, when she was alone, she had nothing to distract her; her thoughts became overwhelming. 

She hated being left alone with her thoughts. 

How was it someone's own mind could be so cruel to themselves? She didn't know, but she did know that she hated it. 

Her thoughts were restless, harsh, and unforgiving, and they often ate away at her until she couldn't bear to hear them anymore. She would beg and weep, pulling at her hair and praying for them to leave her alone but they would only get louder.

She hated being left alone. 

Helena hadn't even realised that she had slipped on her coat and left the house until she felt the cool breeze of night bite away at her exposed skin.

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