The Meaning Behind Her Scythe (BNHA OC x Hawks)

Chapter 20: Anger

My world is not a pleasurable one. Nobody would want to be in my world of pain. Only a select few actually cared and stuck with me over the past few years. After the death of my family, I have been mourning ever since. It was like a dream, hazy and unreal.
Yet, after all this time, I've prepared for the worst and pray for the best of the worst. Mercy is no longer an option. Only death and destruction knock on my door. Only those who dare interfere with my plans get welcomed onto my lovely doorstep, the doorstep of Death itself. On the outside, I appear to be a small, wounded, helpless girl, but on the inside, only the flames of vengeance reside in my heavy soul.
I slowly stood back on my dirty feet, attempting to gain some balance. That plan failed tremendously, as I fell back onto my ass once more. After hours of trying to re-learn how to walk without the aid of my wings, I finally succeeded, but just barely. The dark, filthy apartment that I slept in was covering from floor to ceiling in stains and filth. My wings twitched and my tail flicked.
The dark glow of my halo flickered, only reflecting the ray of light that shone through the dark curtains. My large, now burnt wings flapped lightly, allowing me to stand firmly. Still, I had to grip onto the wall for support when I grew weary and light headed. I had to relearn how to stand and walk due to me being bedridden for the longest amount of time possible. While all of my friends were in their senior years at U.A., living their best lives, I was stuck here, rotting away slowly, painfully.
I had no connection to the outside world, I haven't even connected to my friends in the longest time. I never left my apartment, not even for food, I just snapped my fingers and there would be some sort of food in front of me. The only thing I had in my apartment other than my clothes was my small bed that wasn't even technically a bed, just a few sheets on the floor, and a small tv. My long, untrimmed and untamed, black hair was greasy, my nails were unnaturally long, I had bags under my eyes and lines on my face, my once bright violet eyes had dimmed and faded to a dull, pale color, my lovely, glowing skin had turned pale, everything about me was just- wrong. I guess that's what happens when you give up.
And I gave up for the longest time, never once reaching out for help. Never. I depended on no one, not even myself. But today, when I finally learned how to walk, talk, use my Quirks, and use my wings properly, I knew that I needed to come back stronger than ever. This wasn't a matter that was up for debate. This had to happen, here and now.
I stumbled over to the closet in the corner of the room, opening it slowly. On the bottom of the wardrobe lay a medium sized box. I knew exactly what it was just from my eyes laying upon the box. My fingertips stroked the box's contents gingerly, not wanting to destroy it like I had destroyed several other things in the past. Such as severed ties.
I grabbed my black and gold decorated hero outfit from my first year at U.A. I dumped the other parts to my outfit onto my 'bed', smirking as I knew what needed to be done. I needed revenge. And revenge is what I was going to get. One way or another, I was going to avenge them- all of them, including myself.

"Back in business, are we?" My dark side replicated the cleaner version of myself, the version of me from when I was a first year.

"Oh trust me, we're back in business all right," I grinned a toothy, psychotic grin before taking my dark side's hand, squeezing it tightly.

No question about it.