Robin inhaled a breath. He was at Raven's room, a place he knew better than to enter. Exhaling, Robin gingerly knocked on the door. No answer. "Raven?" he asked, knocking again. "Raven, it's okay, it's Robin. You can come out."
No answer, still. Robin inhaled, again. He was about to commit suicide. He opened Raven's door, and went into her room. The melancholy, unlit boudoir, filled with disturbing artifacts, was empty. "Raven?" he asked the air.
He walked to her night stand, and picked up her gothic, entwined mirror. "What happened?" he asked her mind. The mirror flickered. Robin gazed intently into the glass, waiting for something to happen. The mirror flickered again, and he saw Raven sitting on her bed, crossed-legged, reading. He suddenly saw Penelope beside her, when he had never seen her in the room before.
Raven looked up in shock and fury. Penelope put her left hand on Raven's forehead. Raven's mouth gaped; she was screaming. She fainted on her bed. He saw Penelope pick her up, and melt through the floor, like Raven once did.
The mirror flickered again, and, there was no more. Robin gripped the mirror. He felt that if he held it any longer, it would snap. His knuckles nearly popped out. "PENELOPE!" he screamed to the roof.
