Survivor (Percy Jackson Crossover) [#Wattys2014]

Chapter Eleven

Octavian- Augur of New Rome

Owen Dare walked down the street, keeping his head low, almost as low as his thoughts. As he walked the sounds of festivities and liveliness echoed from everywhere. Everyone danced and celebrated the victory. Men drank, Women swooned, children played, dashing in and out of the crowds not knowing that their parents were celebrating mass murder.

Not knowing that they had killed hundreds of people because they were different.

Not knowing the guilt Owen Dare felt every time he wrote his name.

Of he hadn't suggested it. If he had just had a stronger will. If...

If he hadn't fallen for her in the first place.

A pang of pain in his chest nearly caused him to stumble into a group of teens illegally smoking and drinking. Fresh tears came to his eyes. No. He couldn't have not fallen for her. He couldn't have not had her in his life.

He felt something pull on his jacket pocket. He turned, seeing no one at first, and then seeing a small kid he knelt down be eye to eye.

"Mister, why are you crying?" He asked looking up at Owen's sharp eyes as he quickly wiped the tears away. The kid stood waiting for an explanation, which must have been a big accomplishment considering he was only about four.

"I'm crying...from happiness." More tears started to fall, pain and guilt threatened to swallow him. This was his fault. Everyone he knew was dead. It was his fault.

"That's weird."

Owen nodded, forcing a smile that looked fake and felt like a knife digging into chest. "Yeah I know." He said. "Why don't you go back to playing? Go enjoy the party." Before you learn the terrible crime it's for.

The kid ran back into the crowd, disappearing though he could still hear the child's happy screams as he ran around.

Owen stared at the spot he was standing at. The kid had had beautiful green eyes, not unlike...her. He spoke with confidence that reminded him of her.

He pushed of the ground, letting the tears fall freely as he shoved out of the grouping mortals. Of the horrible evil freaks. Of the people who fought and murdered his entire family and friends.

He hated them.

He hated everyone.

He hated himself.

He hated being forced to live and smile and agree with every rotten thing said about Demigods, wizards, and even the mutants that wandered about. They were cruel. And he couldn't do it anymore.

He slammed into blurrs of people, unable to see through the tears in his eyes. He fought the crowd's loud singing and dancing currents and finally pushed through the barrier of mortals. He didn't care of the shouts of protest behind him, he was left running.

Running.

Running for his house. To seek safety, in the arms of his love. Just to end it all.

He opened the door, which he never bothered to lock. He didn't have anything worth stealing. He didn't care if someone came to kill him in the middle of the night. He didn't care if a crazy criminal took refuge on his couch. He didn't stop until he was in the bathroom.

He threw himself against the sink, disappointed in the small amount of pain it caused. He looked at his face in the dusted, dirty mirror, only to see unfamiliar sadness glistening back. His icy blue eyes filled with more sorrow than ever imaginable, his defining white blond hair had grown into a tangled mess. His heart ached for her back, to see her again, to hold her for entireity.