Odd little thing. Like it, don't like it. Either way. I DON'T OWN THE SONG.

Had a bad day
Don't talk to me
Gonna ride this out
My little black heart
Breaks apart
With your big mouth and
I'm sick of my sickness

-Save Me, by Unwritten Law

Raven stared at the empty room, her face expressionless and unreadable. It was just as it had been before, not a single thing removed or disturbed in any way, right down to the glass of water on the nightstand. Everything was exactly the same.

She would have felt better if it hadn't been.

A crumpled sheet of paper sat in the shadows near the waste basket, as though frustration had distorted the thrower's aim. Raven bent over, took it in her hands, unfolded it as though it was a priceless artifact. Robin's handwriting scrawled across the page...

I don't really know why I'm writing this, except that I was told by a good friend that putting it all out in ink would help me. I'm open for suggestions right now.

I don't know what to say. I have no idea how to put everything into words. How far back should I start? A week? A month? Five years? Ten? Seventeen?

This isn't a problem-solution situation. There isn't one simple reason for why I feel this way. There isn't someone to come and give me a quick fix for my problem. It just doesn't work that way. Maybe that's the problem, everyone wants to just give me a one-sentence solution and go on with their lives. Maybe thats why nothing helps.

I keep thinking that if I could just talk to someone, they could tell me everything would be okay, and magically, it would be. I keep thinking that putting everything into words could take away the horrible shaking, the tightness, like I can't breathe. I keep waiting for someone to save me...but they can't. And every time I realize this, I feel that much more panic. Now, I'm beginning to believe that no one can help me. That thoguht scares me beyond anything I can explain.

I thought, if I could just talk to her, it would go away. She had always been able to make me feel better, always offered comfort and advice. But when I brought this to her, I was horrified to find the same unsure words, the same hollow sugar sentences, and worst of all, that phrase that makes my eyes burn every time I hear it.

"I wish I could help."

Then she has to go, and I am alone again. And nothing has changed.

Darkness brings a change in me. As soon as night falls, I feel restless, confused. All the distractions of the day are gone, and the looming threat of sleep hovers just over my shoulder. Everything I say has a sting attached to it. Conversations with friends belly flop as I try and fail to bring myself to listen to their trivial concerns, and worse, the simple pleasures that seem to be enough to fill up their lives. A lump is permanently stuck in my throat, restricting air. I feel cold inside, my eyes burn, I can't bring myself to look again for comfort from my friends. I know too well what I'll find. And in that moment, I want nothing more than to be as far away from myself as possible.

When I've sufficiently hurt anyone that tries to talk to me, I'm left alone with the night. Nothing to distract me. Alone with my thoughts.

I can either sit in the silence or retreat to my room, where looming shadows that I never noticed before this close in around me. I lie down. I pull the blankets up. I pull the pillow tight against my chest. But sleep does not come. My mind has only just begun to torture me.

It's at this time more than any other that I think of him. This is the time when I let the tears fall, seeping uselessly into the pillow. No one hears. No one comes to comfort.

Eventually, my body overcomes my mind, forcing me into a restless daze, full of nightmares, hazy reflections of every insecurity, every doubt, every fear. My stomach aches even in my sleep, tight and weary from the torment my body endures. The night stretches on...the sun rises two, three, four hours later, and I am awake. But I don't get up. I ahve no reason to leave the safety of the blankets, and the chains of my dreams still won't let go, dragging me again and again into that night's horror.

Eventually, they look for me, frustrated with me, clearly under the impression that I'm enjoying this restless slipping from one nightmare to another, stomach in knots before I've even allowed my day to begin. I'm jerked out of it, and in a way, I could thank them. At least I can no longer dream.

I can't remember my nightmares now that I'm free of their clutches, but the tightness, the sense of forboding... That lingers. Already, I resent the company of others. Already, I fear the inevitable.

More than anything, I hate being alone.

Alone with myself.

Raven dropped the paper, eyes blank. She didn't move until she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Friend Raven...?"

She turned to face Kori, not bothering to put on a smile. The Tameranian no longer seemed to need them.

Her green eyes were large and wet with tears. "Is he coming back?" she whispered, lip quivering.

Raven let nothing slip through. "No," she droned, shouldering past Starfire and leaving the room behind.

The moon was dark that night as she took to the sky, leaving the tower behind her.

"No. He's not coming back."

You can't save me
You can't change me
Well I'm waiting for my wake up call
And everything
Everything's my fault

-Save Me, by Unwritten Law

That's it right there. There's not really much to say...I've left alot up to your interpretation, but I think I like the story best that way. Whether you liked it or didnt, feel free to leave your comments. Again, DON'T OWN THE SONG. -Dusty