𝐌𝐘 𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐒 ❪ 𝘣𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘦 ❫

Fifty

I touch the bedsheets: cold, damp and stained with red. Whilst biting down on my lip I promise myself that I'll never cut again.

''You know that's a lie, Raven.''

I put my dressing gown on, pulling the furry purple fabric over the grimed sleeves of my previously white t-shirt.

''It's a necessity to punish...'' His voice changes slightly. I sense a hint of disgust laced in his sadistic tone. ''... a murderer...''

I grab the bedsheets, bundling them up in a ball, using my magic to pull the hood over my head, concealing the wounds on my cheeks, in case I run into any of my teammates on the way.

I begin to walk to the laundry room, biting my lip as hard as I possibly can, ignoring the pain.

Pain that I don't even know if it exists or not.

What's real and what's not? I don't even know anymore.

Just another figment of my imagination.

''Stupid girl.''

The door to the laundry room slides open, revealing the interior: five washing machines and five dryers. I open the first washing machine I see, throwing the bedding inside it, slamming the door, and turning it on.

''Hey, Raven.'' I see Robin entering the room holding a basket full of shades of blue and red.

''Hi,'' I reply, moving towards the door. My eyes drift over the mostly bare room.

''Are you - are you okay?'' Robin's eyes scan my face hidden by my hood. My finger taps some sort of rhythm against the wall.

''What?'' At first, his words don't register. ''Oh, yeah. I'm fine.''

None of us say anything more but I can tell that he senses something is wrong. He puts his laundry in the washing machine and looks back up at me. His eyes behind the mask show a faint glint of worry.

''Beastboy was looking for you earlier,'' he says. ''I think he went back to his room.''

I nod, opening the door and walking back out into the hallway. When I reach my room, I don't stop. I keep walking. I come to halt at the door engraved with the words 'Beastboy'. My hand forms a fist, and I am about to knock but my knuckle refuses.

''Don't you dare,'' my father whispers.

As much as I want to see him, to tell him everything... I can't.

I pass his room, walking up to the roof. Every step reminds me that I can never run away from my past. The only thing that can calm me now is the sunset.

I step out onto the roof.

The night sky surrounds me.

It's evening; I've missed the sunset.

I exhale out, summoning a bean bag. I push it right to the very edge. Whilst sitting down on it, I take down my hood, allowing the wind to caress my skin.

I take a deep breath in, watching the crescent moon hung in the sky, alone, with no stars to keep her company. She weaves in and out of grey misty clouds, but she is never covered completely. She keeps on casting her silver light, regardless of how alone she must feel.

Just the moon and I.

As I gaze at such simplistic beauty, a single tear falls down my face, landing on the wan skin of my hand.

''Why?'' I whisper. I look up at the moon, asking my question. ''Why?''

I pull down my sleeves, exposing them to the beauty of the night: the only witness.

I ask again, more tears flowing. ''Why?''

Of course, the queen of the night doesn't answer.

Who could answer my question anyway?

Short chapter, I know guys, but a longer one will pop soon! I really enjoyed writing this, especially the description and personification of the moon, as you could probably tell. Thanks for reading this far, it means so much to me that you are sticking around! Not much for me to say today, just have a great day!