DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN TEEN TITANS OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS.

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"TO DEAREST MALCHIOR"

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I CAN BARELY STAND IT.

I hide beneath this cape, afraid of exposure. I hide my face in darkness, hideous and brooding. I remain silent, deathly still.

I pull my knees to my chest, head faced-downwards. There is pressure in my lungs, heavy and depressing. I begin to cry, knowing that I will not be able to stop for several hours.

I should not feel this way. I should not feel. I repeat again, I SHOULDN'T FEEL.

I want to pretend, make-believe like before. I cannot feel.

The tears make it difficult to play.

I am only a little girl. I don't know everything. I don't know what to do. I know that I may be a superhero, but I need someone to save me. HELP ME.

My emotions cause everything to shatter: the windows, the lights, and me.

I wished, I wished on you.

My lilac strands of hair obscure my violet eyes.

I wish, I wish I knew.

I am thinking, desperately. I am lost, confused, and empty.

I know that I shouldn't think about you. OR IMAGINE YOU. Standing there in the middle of my room. Sparks, flashing, and magic.

I close my eyes, trying to lock my mind.

You stand there in the shadows of my memories, crystal-clear and shock-bright. Your hand outstretched towards mine. I cannot see your smile, but I know you are. I see myself smile, too.

I can't stop—I can't stop crying.

I walk towards the antique trunk where you rest, where you live. I want to open it. I feel my hands shaking, longing. Wanting. My whole body quavers, spilling over with white-hot tears.

You hold me here in perpetual suspension. Your ghostly arms wrap around me, paper-thin like the bindings of the book you were made of.

I think, I think about you all the time.

I-I let you in. And, you tore my heart, as easily as you would a page. Still, you keep coming back, night after night.

Raven, you call my name, entrancing. Dearest Raven.

GET OUT OF MY FUCKING HEAD!

I reel back into reality, bleeding. The intense, rouge patterns of paper-cuts marring the milky canvas of flesh. They decorate my skin. I don't remember how they got there, but they're everywhere.

My hands are still shaking, sweating profusely.

I shut my eyes, in an attempt to kill you in my mind. AZARATH, METRION, ZINTHOS.

I take in an icy breath. Shivering.

My gaze wavers and blurs. I turn away from the box, where you lie buried in Neverland.

I breathe out.

I BREATHE IN. I BREATHE OUT.

AZARATH, METRION, ZINTHOS.

I… I see you so vividly.

LEAVE ME ALONE! I scream.

Your paperbound arms entrap every waking-aching moment. Smothering, suffocating. Sometimes I can barely breathe.

And, sometimes…I don't want to.

I confess that I fell under your spell, your black magic.

For once (in that one miraculous instant in time), I had a place that I could call home, that impossible somewhere I BELONGED. Your light, gauzy paper-sheer bindings welcomed me, luring, inviting. The warm glow of burning candles amidst the pages of endless books melted upon our be-shadowed forms, intertwined with firework enchantments.

Rapture.

But this place wasn't real.

You weren't true.

You're the most intriguing book I have ever read, and I wonder if you had ever felt the slightest about me.

I WISHED, I WISHED ON YOU. Like a distant star that fell from the sky and crashed through my window. Scorching, smoldering. Burning down my lonely world, filling it with light and life…

And simultaneously, Death.

I wish… I wish I knew.

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WOLF PRINTS: Well, I hoped you enjoyed the story. It wasn't the happiest or the possible best, but mainly vent-age through one of my favorite characters. The grammar lost to emotion, lol. (PWND) SO, critiques (constructive criticisms and helpful suggestions, please.) are welcome. REVIEW.