I am not afraid.
No, not for me.
I fear for them.
Dare I call them my friends?
I mutter the words, so familiar on my lips, and light a candle in my room.
The door slides shut behind me and locks, I smile bitterly. They have not
been in here more than twice, they fear my room.
Or, do they fear me?
I would not wonder if they did. I am uncontrollable, I am a child born of
ruin, a child born of hate. I strip off my clothes, shivering at the chill
that's crept into the room. But the chill is in my bones as well, seeping
through and corrupting my resolve. Putting on a plain white nightdress I
kneel in the center of the floor. Pressing the heel of my palms to my eyes,
I try to block out the visions, but it is useless.
Fear blood knives darkness fire tears death Raven.
Oh the horrors I have seen.
But I keep them all inside, the others cannot know. And I cannot tell them.
Words cannot express the sorrow I see in their futures, and indeed, in my
The first time I had been gazing, my eyes wide and unfocused as shapes
drifted across the surface of my crystal ball. But the shapes became
images, and I saw him, I saw him die.
He came first, fighting in the ruins of our city. Starfire and the rest
watched in horror as his blood stained hand dropped, pole clattering to the
floor. And the last thing Robin saw was a shadowy figure whose sword was
planted firmly in his chest. The sword was so beautiful, a black shining
blade with a silver hilt, and three rubies on the pommel. How can I tell
him that? It isn't exactly polite dinner conversation, and I'm not much of
I saw Star a week later, while eating breakfast. A cup of tea was in my
hands as they staring agape at the television. But I couldn't see a thing
as darkness blurred my vision, and one again I saw.
She was all alone, standing in front of three graves. I couldn't stop the
swell of sorrow in my throat as she fell before them, curling up into a
ball. There was no innocence in her now. I knew this as she wept before the
stones, oblivious to the fire raining down from the sky. Starfire was
witness to the last of Mankind, to the Apocalypse, and so she stood, hands
wrapped around the tombstones of her friends, she screamed, screamed to the
burning sky, before she too, lay dead.
"Raven," she had asked me, jolting my mind out of the vision, "Raven are
They all stared at me then, and my hands clenched around the cup. It
shattered, driving shards deep into my flesh. I didn't notice as I fled
from the room, and Beast Boy's words echoed in my head, "How can we trust
I can't even trust myself. The emotional walls I have built in my mind
don't keep them inside anymore. So many things I have to block, so many to
forget, and in forgetting, I forfeit my humanity. It is a small sacrifice I
suppose, to be amongst their company.
But they resent me, this I know. I have heard their whisperings, seen the
"What if she betrays us?"
"How can you be sure of that?"
Deep, resounding, hateful silence. They do not trust me. They do not care
for me, they hate me, oh how they hate me, and I am not hurt. The wounds
are deep inside, so deep that they cannot be healed.
My heart has been ripped out. No, I don't want to think about it-
Such would be his fate. A valiant death would be his, fighting for his
friends, but he shall fall on the dark of the moon, and his body shall lie
underneath the cruel unfeeling stars. And as his vision dims, he will see
his own heart held aloft on the pinnacle of a sword, a perfect sacrifice
for all to see.
The sorrow fills me, choking me until I cannot breathe. I press my forehead
to the floor, mumbling a spell for clarity, but the words will not come. A
deep rumbling fills my ears, and I see the earth shake beneath me. I am
surprisingly calm, completely aware of the illusion. This death shall be
I see him clearly. He stands on the pinnacle of the tower, staring out over
the burning skyline. He doesn't turn as a door creaks open; his voice is so
old, so broken as he says, "I was wondering when you'd show up."
No answer, but he smiles, keeps smiling as a sword is driven through him,
ripping out circuitry and wires. He teeters precariously on the edge of the
tower, that stupid grin still on his face. His mouth opens as if he wants
to speak, but it is too late, he plummets over the edge, and smashes upon
the concrete, parts flying in a thousand different direction, Cyborg
shatters like a china doll.
Tears leak out from my eyes as I sit up. Suddenly bile fills my mouth, I
throw up. Wiping my lips I crawl over to a chest, it's locked. A spell
blooms in my mind and I open it. Releasing the enchantment a sword appears.
I pick it up and hold it against the backdrop of the blood red sky. Tonight
will be the last death I shall see, and it shall be my own.
They will not die.
This I know as I hold the sword in my hand, a sword with a black blade, a
silver hilt, and three rubies in the pommel.
Well, if you enjoyed it say so! I don't pour out all my angst-ridden-ness
just for my own pleasure you know.