"One thousand words is an oddly specific word count, wouldn't you agree?"

Those words are what led me back here to this room. Supposedly, I was supposed to write about why I was here, and I did. But it wasn't good enough. I apparently sound like an emotionless robot. Well, he'd only know that if he read the paper. Which he did, even though he promised not to. And since I know you'll be reading this too, I'd like to offer a warning: Lie to me again and there will be consequences!

Now that that's out of the way, I'm not quite sure what to write about. He said "talk about where your anger came from" and I already told him the mentalities of the barbarians. But apparently I was only mad at them, they weren't the source for my anger. "Think about what has stressed you out, think back to when this feeling of anger began to smolder," he said and I can be honest when I say that these cryptic pointers on what to write about aren't helping the level of my stress or my anger one bit.

But for the moment, I suppose I could indulge these questions….

I'm finding this rather difficult. It's not that I don't know what the source of all this is, even an emotionally blind person could see clearly that this is all the aftermath of the Vytal Festival disaster. But I suppose, at least in my perspective, it may be more complicated than that….

At least I know that everything I write here is confidential, and at the very most, only one person will read this. I felt I needed to state this in writing for myself before I started as I have no intention of trying to cover what I'm thinking, even if covering up is what a Schnee does best.

But that is another topic that I'd rather not touch, so back to my "anger" and "stress".

It's really hard not to just blame everything on my mind on the Vytal Festival, but at the same time I know that the festival was just the final straw. The last feather on the nevermore, as it were. But I honestly don't believe any of it has anything to do with RWBY or anyone else at Beacon. If anything, all the companionship I found myself receiving for the first time in I can't remember how long, was the sole saving grace that kept me from breaking down when Father decided to resume playing politics with me.

You see, since I was born I've been raised to be perfect. The perfect daughter, the perfect student, fencer, pianist, singer, cook, housewife, socialite, the list goes on. My father had very little patience for failure, and with the increasingly violent White Fang attacks, that little patience was easily depleted long before my lessons were due. I… sometimes wish I hadn't had to focus so damn hard all the time. But that would have only resulted in my schooling taking place in Atlas instead of Vale.

I don't regret Beacon. Even if my father felt the school was unnecessary for my future, I don't regret Beacon. It was the first real decision I made for, and by, myself. Because I wanted to be trained as a huntress. Maybe for prestige, maybe for honor, or maybe because I wanted to learn what Remnant was really like outside the bubble of social security I was born in. I honestly couldn't say, but I don't regret any of it. And… I still find myself wishing the Vytal Festival hadn't turned out the way it did….

There was a time when I was happy to jump through the hoops my father presented. "Sing for the investors" he'd asked, and I happily accepted. "Learn advanced economics" he'd ordered, and I happily complied. Just to see the smallest look of satisfaction on his face, but it never happened. Then, when I asked to enroll at Beacon, "Only if you can pass my test, will I allow it" were his words. The "test" he'd staged involved a grimm that could have easily killed me if I hadn't been so determined. I don't even remember the second half of the fight. All I remember is that I was desperate to win, and somehow I managed it. He'd left me without a word that day, anger written as clearly on his face as the victory was on mine. It was the last time I saw or spoke to him before he picked me up from Patch. Before he ripped me away from my team.

I… I miss my team.

There, I wrote it. For nobody but me and that psychologist to see. I miss my team.

I miss… everyone. Blake, Ren, Nora, Jaune, Neptune, and Sun. I suppose I also miss Yang, but more in the way that one misses a book. It's nice sometimes, but the rest of the time it's large, and in the way. They were all my friends even if I never said it. I… I even miss Penny, even though I thought she was rather odd, and never really put in the effort to get acquainted with her. She was more my friend through Ruby, but I still feel sad when I remember the last match in the tournament before… everything went south. But even then, I can't blame Pyrrha for what happened. I know someone interfered. I just… wish there was something that I could have done to prevent that. If there was… Pyrrha would still be here.

The rest of JNPR all said that it wasn't my fault, what happened to Pyrrha. But I can't help but feel like it was. Jaune called us to help, and we failed. We were too late. I sent Ruby up to the top of the tower and tried my best to take on the grimm that just kept coming. I wasn't near perfect and it cost Pyrrha her life.

I don't even know what to say about Ruby…. I don't even know if she's still alive.

She was in a coma when Father came to bring me back to Atlas. He wouldn't let me stay to make sure Ruby was alright. She is beneath the concern of someone like me… is what his thoughts are. But even if he says so, I wish… I just want to know if she's okay. I don't think I could stand it if something happened to her because I sent her ahead alone.

I've been wondering more and more lately whether or not I made the right choice. I think I was still in shock from everything that was happening and just started to roll with the punches when my father appeared. I didn't fight when he pulled me into his airship. I didn't fight when we flew back to Atlas where I wouldn't be able to get any news from anywhere else on Remnant. I didn't fight when he assigned new instructors to resume my education for the role of CEO.

I wish I had.

I should have never set foot on that airship. Not without making sure Ruby would be okay.

But now… I don't know if I want to find out. I… wasn't there when I needed to be. I failed my partner and I don't know if anything I can do would make up for that. I'm still a child despite everything I've done and have very little power without my name. Even then, that power belongs to my father, not to me.

He's been getting stricter with the kingdoms hanging on the edge of a new war, and I'm the only target within reach. Even now I have the building surrounded by guards. I'm the single most protected person in all of Remnant, next to my father. And I want nothing less than to escape this cage that he's imposed with the illusion of safety to sweeten the pill. Any way you see it, a cage is a cage.

I'm not permitted to go where I want without clearing it with Father, nor am I permitted to converse with anyone without permission. The security ensures that.

The part that makes me sad is that even if I wanted to, there's nothing that I would do. Atlas has nothing for me. Everything that matters is in Vale… in Patch.

It's been so long since I left that it's starting to feel like my dreams and reality are reversed. Every time I fall asleep, it feels like I'm returning home. To Beacon and my team. To friendship and freedom and fun, and so many other things that I can't even begin to describe them as they meld together into the happiest moments of my life. But every time, I end up waking from that dream. And then it feels like I'm thrust into the start of another nightmare. Another meeting with racist barbarians. Another lesson with an increasingly difficult instructor. Another sparring match with the simulator on a difficulty that's next to impossible for me to defeat alone.

I don't think I've ever admitted this to anyone, servants included, but I've started to wear makeup to cover the scars that peek out from my clothes. My aura just can't keep up with this, even if I have to. I don't have a choice.

And when I think about it, I don't mind scars. Even the one on my face that I earned from Father's "test" to attend Beacon. Scars are just evidence of something that tried to kill you, but failed. The bigger the scar, the closer it got, but it still failed.

And I have so many scars. Scars from things I'm proud of, and things I'm not so proud of. But the worst one has to be the one across my stomach that I gained when I was fifteen. I never changed in the same room as my team because I was afraid someone might ask about it. It is the largest scar I have and it is impossible not to see when I am even slightly undressed.

I think that's the one thing that is hard proof of the exact start of all this stress. I "wasn't perfect", not the way "a Schnee needs to be". And my father made sure I paid "a price appropriate to that crime". I was told that I had actually died three times during the restorative operation, and the scar was proof of how much my mistake had cost. I didn't ever dare ask to have it removed. The answer would be obvious.

I lost most of my memories from that time due to my complications, so I can't remember exactly what my mistake had been. Only a vague set of feelings attached to that section of murky memory and fragments of dialogue that I can't make any sense of. My father refused to speak of it, so there is nothing I can do to remember what I can't. Winter was already gone, so I knew asking her would yield nothing as well.

The strange thing is… I was… happy. I think. I can't exactly say, but whatever my mistake was, it was something that I was happy about. And then I was nervous and terrified. I always assumed that those were feelings from different times, but maybe they were all simultaneous, considering Ruby had shown me how both positive and negative feelings could coexist in a single moment. The only thing I can be sure of is that I feel as if a small part of my life had been taken. Nothing big enough to cause worry, yet something that I couldn't help but miss.

That was when I started to train with a rapier. I needed some sort of control over my life and that blade made me feel as if I could hone myself into its point and go precisely where I aimed it and myself. It didn't exactly help the void that I felt, but it took my mind off it. I don't know why but I felt like I desperately needed to use something to get rid of the feeling of loss I felt. And becoming a huntress definitely helped.

But I suppose this is about finished. I've surpassed two thousand words and have answered the question I was given. I ranted a little and raved in a way unbecoming of my family name, but I don't, no I can't, care. I've admitted some things I've never admitted to anyone and it feels like a little less weight is upon my shoulders as I stretch my arms. I still don't feel better, but at least everything is bearable. I might just be putting that down so I don't have to come back here, but I won't be too concerned if I do. At least here I don't have to deal with my father or his expectations, even if I know once I leave, I go back to another round of lessons and meetings and social gatherings for those who live above the consequences of their actions. But that's something I could go on about forever. Let's see if this is long enough now.