For Athena's Wing's challenge. Theme? Portrait. Props to whoever catches the two literary references within.

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A portrait? Of me? Just a conflicted juxtaposition of deep calm and haunting wraiths.

What part of a person do you look at first when you meet him or her? Some say the face. My guardian said the eyes. Beast Boy...forget it. When I meet someone worth looking at, worth talking to, worth knowing, I wonder what is in their soul.

I wonder what dwells within the thousands of delicate souls floating around the city. They're like candles. Vulnerable, wisping away with the slightest gust of wind, taking away years of love and memories. That's the power of emotion. A city with a population of 500000 has millions of accumulated years of pain, bliss, loss.

That's why the saving people business is so risky. Each life is so full of promise, yet thousands are lost every day. Under your watch. Failures like these twist into your humanity. Mangle it. But we forge on, still sane. Still hopeful. Why? Surely we are cut from a different cloth, surely we are wired differently to be able to bear so many crashing waves of ruthlessness, brutality, and fear.

The basics of humanity. Raw in their power. Perhaps, in some form, the superhero masters them.

But do we? We are as petty, grasping, despairing as the rest of them. We exult in our victory, gloat over the fallen bodies of evildoers. Is this noble? Perhaps it is more accurate to say that we have not mastered emotion and humanity, but that we are so intricately, intimately entangled in them that we can somehow survive. The eye of the storm.

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I can never sleep. I always remain awake, fearing the torment of my mind at the hands of the dreamworld. To close my eyes is to sink to the deepest abyss of my mind, where I touch and mingle with the very manifestations of hate that created me. How can my teammates sleep? How can they endure the unbridled fury of their own minds? It is said that you are your worst enemy. How true. How sad.

That is what I wonder. I do this while fatigue seeps into the cores of my bones. Have you experienced true hopelessness? You will feel weariness within your very soul. This is why I am so irritated when I feel a touch on my shoulder. They're full of care. A warm soul brushing against my tainted one. I see the candle.

"Raven."
Something ugly flares within me.
"Raven."
Robin.
"Let's get something to eat, Raven."
"Not hungry."
"The others are out having pizza. I said I'd get you and catch up with them."
"Go away. Now."
"All right, fine. We'll eat something in the Tower."
"Last warning."

"Aww, please?"
Persistence. His greatest and worst trait. Passion. Obsession. The dividing line is thin and cruel as a Venetian knife.
"Just you and me, Raven."
"Just one more time and you will be in a world of pain."
"Most of the time, I am."
A sad tone of voice. The guilt card. Bastard! He knows me too well.
"Fine."
"Awesome! It's already on the table."

I float over to the dining table.
"Let's eat, Raven. We have a carton of milk and two sandwiches à la Alfred."
A jug of wine. A loaf of bread...

Warmth blossoms within me. I am sated before I take the first bite.