Save me.

0.5

I'm so numb.

That was the only thought going through my head as I downed another shot, winning a few more cheers from the crowd that had gathered around me.

'Bend over my knee now, Slut, after all that's what you like, isn't it?'

His voice echoed through my head, killing me, burning me. I let out a gag, as I tried to get him out of me.

"He's not here, Rae." My best - and only - friend, Robin whispered into my ear, seeing the real reason for me attempting to choke up my stomach.

He.

"He has a name," I hiss, wanting to defend that they despicable stain on humanity, despite what he did to me. How he hurt me. Robin just shakes his head, and mutters something about how the stars, and timing.

'Deal with the shit I give you, it's the best you'll ever get, little bitch,'

I bite my bottom lip, an old habit of mine when nervous, and girls and boys alike groaned, obviously needy. I couldn't deal with angry Robin, happy; sad; tired, even disappointed, but not angry.

He was always angry.

I gestured to the barmaid, and she came over, biting her lip as she looked at Robin, before turning to me.
"Raven," she shouted over the music, a forced smile on her face, obviously rejected by Robin again, "what can I get for you?" I placed my order and turned away.

I hated this girl. She always made Robin uncomfortable, even knowing that he was in love with his girlfriend, who he nicknamed 'Starfire', and yet still trying - and failing - to seduce him. Robin looked at me, silently asking to go. I shot him the 'I got you,' look, and excused myself to the bathroom, before following him to the door. I frowned in dismay, realising that my drink was gone from the table, the damned boy  took it.

"You drank my whiskey, you cunt sucking son of a bitch!"

He laughed and held out a twenty, Sending me down to the corner shop to get a bottle of Jack Daniels, and collected me outside in his over-expensive car.

I sat in the back, as Starfire was in the front as Robin had 'seen her on the street' and picked her up. My guess is that they organised it. Starfire is always trying to be my friend, everyone's friend, and Robin just wanted me to be friends with more than just him, but being friends with Starfire would make people think that I wasn't completely happy with just Robin.

That would be a lie.

I  am perfectly fine living like this, and even if I wasn't, then accepting Starfire would mean that I would be expected to accept Robin's other close friends. Male friends, and I couldn't handle that right now.

Not after him.

Robin gave me a desperate smile, and I nodded, ready to play along, but hoping that he didn't invite his other friends as well. As we turned the corner, I sighed, annoyed by Starfire's (meant to be) sneaky sniggers and chuckles, as her hot-pink dyed hair flew about the car. Two of Robin's other friends, while obviously not as close as his long-term girlfriend, but were still close enough to be considered 'brothers from different mothers,' as Cyborg and BeastBoy put it. That was it. The whole gang, or whatever they called themselves. The supers? Treaties? Teens? Titans? Fighters? No, back - they called themselves the Titans, in honour of Cyborg's - so named for his several metal prosthetics - accident.
Robin.
Starfire.
Cyborg.
BeastBoy.
I didn't even know their real names, this is why, why I can't be apart of their group.

'Not you, slut. You don't deserve to be with the rest of humanity. You don't deserve to leave the fucking house. You don't deserve all the kindness I have given you, pathetic whore.'

I shook my head violently, not willing to let him in my head.

•*•

"Friend Rae, are you all the well?" Starfire enquired, not seeing the look of distaste on the younger,purple-haired girl's face at Starfire using Robin's nickname for her, as said boy's quiet snickers echoed throughout the colossal vehicle.

"I'm fine, thank you though" The short women replied, her hood falling as she shook her head. Her hair was beautiful, it was a dark purple, and fell to her butt, and no matter what style she put it up in, some parts always fell down to her breasts, outlining them, and making them pop. She hated it. She hated her hair; her hips; her stomach; her breasts, even her nose. She hated all of her, but most of all, she hated the scars, drawn by her own hand, to cover up the ones that he decided to cut.

She was planning to leave.

To leave.

It sounded so innocent. She was planing to leaving the car, city, country, or the UK. That's what most think that phrase means. Raven thought of it differently. She was planning on leaving her body, and her life.

She was planning on dying.

•••

Robin coughed awkwardly, snapping me from my thoughts, and bringing my attention to him.
"Oh look, it's Beasty," Robin said, trying -and failing- not to cringe from the fact that it was so obviously staged.

"Yo, Rob!" The pale boy in and oversized basketball ball kit screamed, waving at the car, before grabbing onto the side of it, and jumping in, almost making contact with me. It would of been so innocent, meaning nothing.

He used to do that. Innocent touches at public places. All done to give out the same message: 'You're mine,' Ten minutes into the drive, and I feel sick. I am, by no means a lightweight, but after a full bottle of Jack, I struggle to keep my eyes open. I hear footsteps up to the car and I try to stop the rocking, so as to look.

"Cy! Cy! It's safe, she's quiet, and she won't hurt you. Robin was exaggerating, she's not fierce."

"Friend BeastBoy, that was an untruth. Friend Ræ could hurt you," Star smirks, and mimics choking someone. "She could hurt you very badly."

Robin breaks the tense silence,  whispering a greeting to the hoodie-wearing fool.
"Ræ's almost asleep, so don't make any noise. Get in, but don't touch her, she's not good with people." Ignoring Robin's advise, the metal man slings his only real limb around me, twiddling my hair within his fingers.

I reach to the side and grab his shirt, pulling him forward and smashing his head into the back wall f Robin's seat. It causes a minor nose-bleed, nothing serious, and Cy laughs hysterically, obviously only slightly scared, thinking I am just strong.

"Do," I pause for effect, knowing how his mind works, "not, ever, touch me, with your disgusting hands, and your filthy eyes." He looks away, "Understand," I take his wallet without him realising, " Victor James Stone?"

I look strait ahead, and throw the scratched leather in his lap.