The Cursed One

Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson and the Olympians or The Heroes of Olympus. Uncle Rick does.

I found myself at the doors to the underworld. I wasn't dead, but I sure wish I was. I had w bag of dramachas in one hand. I walked by Charon and placed the bag in front of him without saying a word. "I see you still haven't drowned in a bathtub? Eh, what do I care, you paid, and quite good honestly." Charon said as he picked up the money. The ferryman then showed me the way to his ferry as he took me down the river Styx. He dropped me off the shore and near the judgment lines for the underworld, but that's not where I was headed, and so I went off in a different direction, following the river further downstream.

Finally, I had reached the end of the river, or at least as far as it went in the underworld as the river poured down a hole leading to the Pit. I looked at the river, it would supposedly burn my soul away if I jumped in. I looked at the waters of the river, but before the temptation of jumping in took over me, I recounted everything that happened to me in the last couple of months, wouldn't have wanted to make the wrong decision.

Let's see, first a son of Hermes shows up, being chased by a bunch of monsters. I do the thing that anyone else in my situation would have done. I pulled my sword out and turned the monsters into dust. However, when the rest of the campers joined me they were all looking at me with disbelieve. That's when I heard the boy yell at me, demanding to know why I just "stood" there and watched as he took care of the monsters by himself.

Ignoring the obvious facts that one: I would never do something like that, two: he has no weapons on his, so how was he supposed to kill them, and three: out of the two of us, I was the only one that had golden monster dust covering my clothes, a clear sign that I had just sent a few monsters to the Pit.

After months of abuse I finally gave up on camp. The other campers began to hate me, preferring the new son of Hermes over me. Even Annabeth began to distance herself from me, until one day I found her making out with the son of Hermes. That was the last draw, I packed a bag, left a note on my bed, and left.

I first went to my mom's apartment. The only thing that kept me still excited was seeing my mom, Paul, and my little sister. Yes, my little sister, Gwen Blowfis Jackson. When I came back from Greece I had gotten the news that I would be getting a new baby sister.

However, when I got to the apparent the door had been knocked down. I hurriedly went in, but what I saw made me stop at the foot of the four and and fall to my knees as my head hung low, silent tears falling onto the floor.

After what could possibly have been hours of just kneeling on the floor, I stood up, walked over to the sight that had horrified me.

Paul laid on the floor next to the couch closest to the door. He had obviously been the first line of defense against whatever it was that took their lives. He had a puddle of blood around him, and I expected claw marks, but instead he had a solid clean cut going down his torso. He was killed by a person.

I walked further to the kitchen where I just couldn't hold it and fell to my knees once more as now I was sobbing loudly.

My mom laid on the floor upside down with a similar gash going down her back. She had clearly turned around to take the blow from the attacker and protect little Gwen.

However, her efforts amounted to nothing, as the baby girl that my mom had been carrying laid a Lille forewords from her, with her head bashed in.

The sight made me want to throw up, and I ended up doing so. Who could ever do such a thing to my family, my sister for that matter. She was far too young, she didn't even get a chance at life.