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*Author Note*

I want to let anyone who is going through a hard time know that they're not alone. Mental illness is no joke and it shakes your whole world making you feel alone, worthless, and a burden, but you're not. You're strong and on the other end of this, you'll realize that. Always hold onto hope and take things one day at a time💕

I hope you enjoy the story!

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Ps:
Before we begin, I wanted to put out a quick trigger warning. This story mentions depression, suicidal thoughts, EDs (anorexia), and cutting/self harm. There will also be a bit of blood. It won't get very graphic, and I will give warnings, but I just wanted to put a warning out there for people who may get triggered and choose not to read. Thanks!❤️

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*Raven's POV*

I stared at the clock in my room. 4:30 am. Still no sleep. Again.

Well, it's too late to sleep now. Might as well give up.

I got up from my bed, rubbing my eyes. I turned on the lights, which gave me a headache, but I didn't care. I then walked over to my mirror.

I no longer recognized the person staring back at me. I had dark circles under my bloodshot droopy eyes. I had on baggy clothes to hide my body.

My mind was numb.

It had been like that for a long time. Even though I live with 4 other people, I felt alone. I questioned how long I can go on like this for... How long I could keep up the act. I felt like I was ready to give up. I doubt the others would even care if I did. They hate me. They think I'm creepy. I'm such a burden to them. They'd be happier and better off if I were dead.

I closed my eyes.

"Azarath Metrion ZINTHOS!"

My powers changed my oversized t-shirt and sweatpants to my usual outfit. I clipped on my cloak, concealing my body... the body I've grown to hate. I looked back up at my face.

I had recently learned something new- how to put on makeup.

I never thought of myself as someone who would wear makeup, but I put on just enough. Concealer under my eyes, light mascara... whatever I needed to hide the overwhelming depression and insomnia that was so clearly written all over my face. It was no longer an option not to wear makeup. I knew that if I didn't hide it, the others would know that something was wrong.

They would interrogate me. They would know everything. They would make fun of me. They would laugh.

They would know how weak I truly am.

I shook my head, clearing my thoughts. I walked towards my door, feeling the usual sinking feeling that I get before leaving my room. The feeling intensified with each step. By the time I reached the door, I felt like I was going to vomit.

I can't take this anymore.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying my hardest to find strength inside of me to continue on. Some tears escaped and fell down my cheek. I took a deep breath.

I'm stronger than this. I can't cry.

I walked back over to the mirror, facing my reflection. My eyes scanned my face and body. Trying not to cry again, I bit my lip... but it was too late. My head dropped in defeat.

Look what I've become. I'm so weak... so worthless. My father was right. I'm just an insignificant ugly demon. I don't belong here. I don't even deserve to be alive.

I wiped away the tears and looked back up my mirror one more time as I reapplied my makeup, making sure the evidence of my crying was erased. I had become so used to it. I had become a master of deception.

I slowly walked back over to my door. My stomach churned more and more with every step. Something as simple as walking out of my room had become so hard. I hated it.

Finally, I took one more deep breath and walked out of my room.

I can do this.

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