So in 2015, my friends in the Drama Club had this play where a group of "superheroes" talked about their superpowers and were terrified of "The Doctor". These "superheroes" were actually different individuals whose lives were scarred by accidents and trauma, such as physical abuse, and they cope with living an alternate persona where they sought to have control in their lives. For example, Shade, a girl who hides in the shadows and manipulates them, was actually a victim of child abuse while Caper, a girl who could fly, was actually involved in a skydiving accident which saw her boyfriend dead. "The Doctor" was basically a psychiatrist who manages to "fight" off their powers and that's why they are afraid of her.

After watching the play, I realized that this too could be applicable to my favourite superhero group. Starfire could be an immigrant who was heavily discriminated against for her strange speech and basically for being an alien. Cyborg could be a veteran who lost his limbs and fell into depression, creating a younger version of himself - a hero with molybdenum body parts, unstoppable and independent...

You get my drift.

So I'll start with our very first patient of Jump City's Asylum, a young woman named Rachel Roth...

Oh I refuse to acknowledge I share the same name as him. I refuse to remember that I am his flesh and bone.

No, no, he will not have this beautiful name that I have... I, Rachel Angela Roth, refuse to have any affiliation to the man that sired, but never nurtured me. He is cold. Cruel. Beyond reason. I am nothing like him. But he calls me his daughter.

Three was his number.

Three deadly sins.

Pride.

"Angela, I have told you already that I don't need to seek your bloody permission for the family's finances! I'm the breadwinner and I get to decide where the money goes! I'm not so dumb as to burn my money away." He banged the table as he yelled, chest heaving in anger. "That was just a failed investment that I thought would work!"

"But gambling is not - "

"SHUT UP WOMAN! YOU TALK TOO MUCH!" He struck her across the face and sent her falling backwards with the impact.

My mother, poor mother, has sadly gotten used to such treatment. I shut my eyes and brace for impact. At any time, he'd come for me now, after he was done with my mother. I regret not being in the refuge of my room.

Any time...

He held my shoulders roughly, breath stinking of alcohol and cigarettes.

Wrath.

I feel myself flying across the room, like how I'd fly over a city if I could protect its inhabitants, and into the darkness.

I shut out and took the punches, the insults of being the additional burden to the family, once again acknowledging my purpose on this world was to exist as a punching bag.

I cry, because each time it happens with heavier intensities, while my mother's cries and screams drown out my pain.

I closed my eyes and thought of Raven.

Sorceress of the darkness, spawn of a demon. She likes hiding in the shadows. She detests bright daylight. She has the beautiful shade of purple for her hair and most importantly, she could fly, fly as far as she wants, and escape from worlds she doesn't like living in. She can travel across dimensions, fleeing far, very far away from her father.

Times like these, I am no longer Rachel Angela Roth. I sit at the corner of my room, living a life I dreamt up instead. I become Raven Roth, the unlikely dark hero.

The bruises never really disappear, but over the years, I think real bruises aren't the kinds that you can see on your body.

Lust.

It wasn't long before it happened.

"Rachel," he gasped, "you have the youth that your mother never had."

The vampire of the night appeared before me, his teeth clamping down into my neck...

I don't scream.

I won't open my eyes.

As they brought me here, I couldn't really make out what they were saying. I saw a young man, whose body was not quite complete. A girl who didn't look American, but nonetheless was very beautiful with her bright emerald eyes, and a few others...

The ones in white kept saying I needed help. But I told them that it was him that needed help. I'm perfectly fine, I think. I just don't move for a few days or eat. Not everyone functions normally everyday. Can they? Don't people lie in their beds because it just feels so safe? Not having to interact with the outside world, not ever having to move on in a life they didn't choose to be in?

My mother was visibly worried, her face haggard and torn by years of misery. She hugged me before she left, telling me she'd visit soon. She said in here I would learn to fly again. I didn't understand that either.

I already could fly.

I could detach myself so much so that I never felt anything - I needn't have a soul that could be hurt anymore.

I have shed the identity of Rachel Roth, and in it's place is Raven - cloaked hero, ally of darkness.

Mm, if you've any ways to improve this chapter you're welcome to PM me! :) or leave a review. Either way works. Ideas for future chapters are also welcome. I don't have the brain of a genius *deep sigh* but I am cooperative!

Sorry if this chapter is kinda short...I wrote this in like an hour? So it MAY be kind of rushed...

- nic