In Between The Lines Of Vice

Chapter 2: When Our Time Runs Out

The first time Percy met the god of lies, it wasn't what you would call a 'good' day. 

To be honest, that would be impossible to create a greater understatement.

It was the fourth of July, they day of rebirth. The day the nation had become independent, new. Fireworks burst along the night sky, different colors tinting the windows through a shade in his pathetic Manhattan apartment. He tried his hardest not to twitch every time a thunderous canister exploded. It pulled back to many memories to be enjoyable. 

So there he sat, in the darkness of his living room, nursing a particularly strong bottle of scotch. But that was no different then the night before, or the night before that. To be honest, he couldn't remember a time this week where he had left the apartment building. Then again, he couldn't recall the last time he had slept...

A firework lit up the sky, interrupting his thoughts before he delved to deeply into the subject. His head spun to the window covered by the shade, a red tinge staining the entire room. He shook his head at his own jittery actions....the firecrackers that were set off on the street below sounded to much like gunshots for not to think of the things he tried his hardest to never think about.

He swung back another mouthful of the bottle, wanting it to make him feel numb as it burned down his throat, or at least distract him from the things edging up in his mind. He pinched himself in the thigh subconsciously, till his unkempt nails dented into his skin.

He could hear people laughing, he was sure of it. Outside, where they pranced around in the street watching the displays of fire in the sky. People sneaking pecks under the estranged darkness. It wasn't even nine, but the pounding across the sky continued relentlessly as if it would never end. 

His body felt so hot under his skin, bubbling up to the surface like a blister. He felt to tired to want to keep is eyes open, but he knew he would never sleep for long, not if the dark purple bags under them had anything to say. It was all he felt capable of to raise the bottle to his lips again, but knowing he wanted to do so much more. 

Voices from the street met his ears again, unintelligible but lighthearted. He was starting to think the complete silence was better than this, the constant torture of people. It might have been better to just to be alone than listen to the laughter that he could never have. No, he could never have the innocence again, the spark of light in his soul. It felt to numb, maybe that was it, maybe he just wanted to feel something. Or maybe he wanted to stop feeling. 

He flinched sluggishly as the call toe of his phone went off, the sound of the generic chime that he was to unpressed to change filling in all of the sound that was unwanted. He could feel his mouth dip down into a scowl, the chime continuing to it's end and repeating till it sounded off. He didn't feel like caring at that point. Then the voicemail commenced. His moms voice filling the small apartment.

"Hey Percy," She began with some sort of emotion, longing maybe? What ever it was it sent a pang through his chest, pinching his thigh harder than before.

"Sorry for calling out of the blue, I know that your probably busy, but I just wanted to wish you a happy 4th of July." Her tone lacked what the words felt. He hadn't talked to her in so long.

"Just," She paused, most likely pursing her lips. "Just try and call more often, I miss hearing from you."   

"I know you've been having a hard time since, since-well you know. But I don't even know where you are, much less who you are. Please, just please pick up the phone." He shut his eyes tight as he heard the desperation in her tone. 

He couldn't talk to her, see her. He couldn't let her see the mess he had become, gods he was a coward. He would DIE before she had to see the mess he had held onto, the empty shell of a man that his conscious now called home. Yes, death seemed like a much than the disappointment in her eyes.