Songs About Me

1000 apologies for taking so long. I didn't mean for you to have to wait so many months. -_-' Thanks for waiting.

Rated M due to language, violence and/or adult subject matter.

Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Titans, Epica or any lyrics

Chapter 21: Storm the Sorrow

"Just tell me why / Just tell me how / I can survive this time" -Storm the Sorrow, Epica

Rachel huddles against the wind in the oversized sweatshirt she "borrowed" from the hospital. The sweatshirt engulfs her petite frame; it looks like it'd fit Vic. 'I'm surprised that nurse believed me when I said my older brother left behind his sweatshirt over the weekend. She just let me search the box. She never asked me any questions.' The scarf and hat, she stole those but they were in the lost and found and she figured someone forgot about them.

The broken teen slowly walks from the hospital. 'Where do I go? I can't go to my friends. I don't have any. I pushed them all away. I lied to them and they probably hate me. I know I do. I've lied so much about my parents, who's gonna believe me? I can't tell anyone about this. No one will believe …'

Rachel doesn't think about where she's going. She just walks. When Rachel arrives at her street, she's surprised. She cautiously goes up to her house. She's relieved her father's car is gone. She can't deal with him. She doesn't want to be here but she has nowhere else to go.

When Rachel pulls her keys out of her pocket, she drops them instantly. It's almost as if they burn her fingers. She stares at them lying on the porch. 'Why would he do that? Why would he send him here? Why, why wouldn't he help me? He had to see I needed help. He had to see what that monster …' She forces herself to stop, she can't finish that thought. Rachel glances around hoping no one sees her just standing there. She quickly grabs the keys and unlocks the door. Entering her house, she has a strange sense of dread; it's greater than she's ever felt. This is where it happened.

Refusing to look towards the dining room, Rachel hurries up the stairs. Once she's in her bathroom, she locks the door. She turns the hot water on full blast. Soon the small room fills with steam. When she tests the water, it's too hot. She turns on the cold just enough to cool it down some. With her eyes shut, Rachel hesitantly strips off her clothes. She doesn't want to lose their protective barrier but she needs to cleanse herself.

Inside the shower, the water's still too hot. Goosebumps form on her skin as she adjusts the temperature; she wants it as hot as she can stand. She touches the crook of her elbow where the IV was. It's a little sore from her pulling it out. She wishes that were her only pain.

As she washes herself, she remembers his hands on her. She can practically feel his rough touch. She leans against the shower wall. With her eyes shut tight, she tries to push the memories out of her mind. Rachel can't shake them; everything bombards her. She retches several times without bringing anything up. Her whole body trembles with fear and disgust. Her knees buckle and she drops down to the base of the tub.

They repulse her for what they did to her stealing her innocence and her self-worth, her future. She can't imagine ever wanting to be with a guy. 'I'll never have another boyfriend. I'll never get married. I'll never have children. I'll never have a real family.' Rachel weeps, grieving the loss of her future. 'I'll never have a chance at being happy. I hate him. I hate both of them.'

She sits huddled in the corner of the tub, the water raining down on her for most of an hour. The tears have stopped; right now, she doesn't have any left. The water's cold for a while before Rachel notices. She shivers from the cold but doesn't want to move. Thinking about what happened in the hospital, about her heart stopping; Rachel slowly and stiffly gets up. She doesn't want something like that to happen again. Turning off the water, she refuses to look at herself. She's never cared for the sight of her body but now she hates it. She's repulsed by what happened. After drying off, Rachel realizes she didn't bring any clothes. She hastily throws on the oversized sweatshirt and stumbles to her room. After securing the lock on her door, Rachel collapses on her bed. She brings the edge of her blanket up and over her. She lies curled up in a trance-like state. She doesn't sleep but she's not aware of what's going on around her.

A loud noise startles her awake. Rachel didn't realize she dozed off. What was that noise? It happens again. It takes her a moment to understand that fireworks are going off but why. She peaks out from under her covers. Her clock reads a few minutes after midnight. 'Happy new year.' She buries herself back under the blanket and falls asleep listening to the fireworks.

Rachel gradually wakes up to the sound of bird outside her window. She's surprised it's morning. She doesn't know when she fell soundly to sleep. With her muscles aching and tender, she throws back her blankets. Carefully she swings her bare legs over the side of her bed. For a moment, Rachel's surprised to be only wearing a massive sweatshirt. Remembering everything, she coils herself up and submerges under the blankets again. She needs to stop shaking but can't. Rachel tries to focus on her uneven breathing. Slowly she begins to calm down. Rachel tries to think of nothing except the sound of her own breath as she stares at the underside of the blanket.

The shattered teen spends half of the day in a fitful sleep. Rachel wakes up slowly. Her head throbs and her shoulder aches due to the angle in which she lays. She tells herself she should get up or at least move to lessen the dull pain of her shoulder. However, the soreness seeping from her shoulder blade is a welcome distraction from the rest of the pain she feels. She's been vaguely aware of her surroundings but she hasn't heard a thing from her father. She doesn't know where he is and right now, she doesn't care. 'He could be dead for all I care.' Rachel drifts back to sleep.

When she finally wakes up, Rachel realizes she's a little hungry and thirsty. She can't remember the last time she had anything. Very slowly, she actually gets out of bed. Rachel opens her door slightly and listens. She hears nothing; her father's not home. Sighing, she leans against the door closing it. She's relieved; she doesn't want anything to do with him.

Even though she's alone there's no way she can go around the house in just a sweatshirt, even if it covers everything. Rachel throws on some of her old clothes that are too loose on her. She pulls the "hospital" sweatshirt on over her clothes. For some reason she feels safe in it. Rachel accidentally catches her reflection in her mirror and gasps. 'I fell asleep with my hair wet. It dried and it's sticking out in every direction.' Rachel pulls the hood up before exiting her room. She timidly goes down the stairs. It's such a strange sensation to be so afraid in your own house. She can't think of it as a home. She left that back in Hamilton.

In the kitchen, Rachel dunks her head under the faucet. With it wet, she runs her fingers through her hair, forcing it down.

Rachel thirstily gulps down the water. She didn't realize how dehydrated she was but she's drinking too fast. Her stomach can't handle so much so fast. She races to the sink, throwing up the water. After she's done, she splashes cool water on her face. She leans her head against the granite countertop. She berates herself, 'Come on Rachel, you're smart enough. You know how to take care of yourself after a beating.' She slowly drinks the water.'I shouldn't be this messed up. But it wasn't just a beating. Da… he sent him here. Did he send him here to …do that to me, not just to scare me? Or did that bastard just decide to do what he wanted?' Rachel wraps her arms around herself. 'Why didn't da… he help me? Does he hate me that much?' She can't bring herself to call her father dad.

For the first time, Rachel notices the light blinking on the answering machine, there's a message. She goes over to the phone. She stares at the blinking light. A part of her is afraid of what the message will be. Rachel tentatively pushes the button. Trigon's voice comes out of the speaker, "I have, uh, business to take care of. So I'll be out of town for a few days. Actually, I'll probably be back early next week if things go as planned. If you need anything call my cell phone." That's the only message. There are a few blank slots; someone hangs up without leaving a message.

Rachel just wants to stay in her room. She gathers several bottles of water and non-perishable food she can keep in her room. She takes the supplies back to her room. Worn out, she goes back to bed. Her slumber is not very peaceful; it's peppered with nightmares. Each time she's startled awake she doesn't remember the nightmare. She just feels terrified when she opens her eyes.

Rachel wakes up in a cold sweat. She rests her forehead on her knees as she tries to catch her breath. She catches a glimpse of her purple hair. Why did she ever want purple hair? Its uniqueness now makes it hideous.

Rachel frantically digs through her closet. She knows she has it in there somewhere. She's already checked her dresser and desk. Throwing clothes, books and papers everywhere, Rachel crawls deeper into her closet. She lets out a sigh of relieve when she finds what she's been looking for. Grasping a bottle tight to her chest, Rachel climbs out of her closet. 'I knew I had some black hair dye. I got it just in case Trigon didn't like my purple hair. He didn't care but now I hate it. I want it gone.'

She goes to her bathroom and hastily dyes her hair black. Doing it so quickly, she misses some small sections. Now Rachel has black hair streaked with purple. Most of it's black so it doesn't look bad. Rachel doesn't care how it looks; she just doesn't want a head of ugly purple hair.

Rachel enters her room exhausted again. 'How can I be so tire if I've slept so much?' She spots something that she tossed out of her closet earlier. She goes over and picks up the stuffed animal. She'd almost forgotten she still had that. Holding the bunny tight to her chest, Rachel closes her eyes. She thinks the last time she slept with it she was in kindergarten or first grade. Maybe it was second grade, she doesn't know but everything was simpler and innocent back then. 'Things were more innocent a week ago.' With tears in her eyes, Rachel climbs into bed with her once forgotten toy. She may be turning sixteen next month but there are times when a girl needs the comfort of an old childhood friend.

Rachel lies in bed wondering what day it is. She tries to figure it out but soon gives up. She groans; he'll probably be back soon. She doesn't know what she'll do when Trigon comes back. 'I could run away but where would I go?'

Rachel's startled awake by someone ringing the doorbell and knocking on the front door. Confused, Rachel gets out of bed. Who would be pounding on the door in the middle of the night? What's their problem that they have to ring the doorbell and knock? When she exits her room, she's shock to find it's still daylight out. Her room is so dark she thought it was nighttime.

Cautiously, she checks out the side window to see who it is. 'What is Debbie doing here? Was I supposed to work today?' Slowly, Rachel opens the door.

Debbie lets out a sigh of relieve. "I'm so glad you answered. I was so worried when you didn't show up at the café. You've never missed work without calling." She stops when she notices the dark circles under Rachel's eyes. "Are you all right?"

Rachel self-consciously runs her hand through her hair, trying to tame it. "I'm sorry. I, I was up all night sick. I meant to call in sick but I guess I fell asleep and forgot. I'm sorry; I didn't mean to worry you."

Debbie doesn't think of Rachel as just a co-worker. She still thinks fondly of her even after breaking up with her son. She reaches out to touch Rachel's shoulder caringly but the teen recoils from her hand. The older woman gives her a questioning glance.

Rachel can't stand the thought of someone, anyone touching her even if it's out of kindness and concern. "I'm sorry. I don't want you to get sick."

"Aw, don't worry about me. I'm concerned about you. Do you need anything?"

"No, that's okay." Rachel lies, "My …dad is at the store picking up some things. He should be back soon."

"Well, okay. If you need anything don't hesitate to give me a call."

Rachel thanks Debbie and reassures her that she'll be all right. Once Debbie leaves, Rachel leans against the front door and sighs. She's relieved that Debbie bought her story and didn't question her more. Rachel's eyes widen suddenly. This is where she was standing the other night. It's were it all started. She nervously turns to look at the dining room. That's where that monster changed her life.

Full of apprehension, Rachel slowly goes to the dining room. She doesn't want to but she can't help herself. It's like coming across an accident on the interstate. You can't help but look at it even though you don't want to. She feels like she should try to face her fears.

She can almost see and hear what happened the other night. It's as if she sees their ghosts. It's almost as if it's happening again. "No! Stop it!" She clasps her hands over ears. Squeezing her eyes shut she tries to back away from it. "Stop! Stop it! STOP IT! !" Rachel backs up into the Christmas tree and screams. Her senses are overloaded; she doesn't know where she is or what's happening. A few ornaments shatter on the floor shaking her out of her daze. She looks around the room. She's alone; no one else is here.

She looks at the tree. It's always been so beautiful and magical in her eyes. Now it's tainted, ugly. She tried to focus on the tree when everything was happening. She hates it. Screaming in anger and frustration, Rachel shoves the tree over, breaking more ornaments.

Nearly hysterical, she grabs every ornament she can get her hands on and throws it against the wall. The sound of them shattering against the wall is earsplitting but almost sounds pleasing to her. Rachel hesitates when she picks up a certain ornament. It's her favorite; her father gave it to her before her life was hell. She glares down at the shimmering angel in her hand. With more force than the others, she smashes it. Odd as it might be, it feels a little therapeutic being so destructive.

Rachel lies on her bed. She doesn't understand why she's so tired. It seems like all she does is sleep. She feels so betrayed by everyone and everything. She even feels like her own body betrayed her. 'Shouldn't I have been able to fight him off? I know he's a large guy but shouldn't my adrenaline kicked in. Wasn't I terrified enough to fight him? Maybe it is my fault. I couldn't stop him so it's as if I let him do that.' Rachel guiltily runs her finger along the fresh cut on her arm. 'Why did I do that? Why do I let my emotions get the best of me?' She winces, the self-inflicted wound stings. 'Maybe this is kind of a punishment for tearing down the tree like that. Maybe I deserved to have that happen to me. Da… he tells me all the time I deserve the bad things that happen to me. I guess he's right. I deserve punishment for all I've done that's wrong.'

With a deep sigh, Rachel gets up and goes downstairs. 'Guess I should pick things up before he comes back. I don't want to give him any reasons to punish me. I'm sure he won't care that the tree's gone. He never liked it or wanted it. Kinda like me.'

Rachel hides the last of the Christmas tree and ornaments in the garage. She'll put it out for the trash in the morning. She hopes Trigon won't find it. She jumps when a key's put in the side door. 'Not again!' She's slightly relieved to see Trigon. Her relief doesn't last long. She's still terrified of her father even though he didn't hurt her directly. 'What kind of monster does that to their kid? If he doesn't want me couldn't he just send me away?' Rachel doesn't realize she's trembling while glaring at Trigon.

Trigon doesn't notice her reaction to him. "What are you doing here? I thought you were spending winter break with a friend." If he expects her to answer, he doesn't give her much time before continuing. "I tried to call your cell phone but I couldn't get through. Did you lose it or break it? You should be more responsible. You're old enough to take care of your things."

While Trigon's been talking, Rachel realizes she never saw any evidence of that horrible night. Her broken phone is gone. 'Did that monster come back and clean up? Or was he …was he still in the house? Could he have attacked me again?' At that thought, Rachel's stomach churns. She races to the bathroom and throws up.

Concerned hearing his daughter get sick, Trigon follows her. Rachel's surprised he's there when she comes out bathroom. He asks, "Are you all right?" Rachel shrugs and nods at the same time. She flinches when he put his hand on her forehead. "Hm, you feel a little warm. It could be you have the flu. Come on; let's get you settled on the sofa." Trigon gets his daughter a blanket as she settles down on the sofa in the family room.

Rachel's startled awake by voices. She pretends to be asleep as she listens. It's Trigon and a woman's voice. Rachel figures out the woman's a social worker. She hears him say, "She's my daughter. Why would I want to hurt her in any way?" Rachel can't hear the social worker's response. Trigon says, "This has been hard on her. She's been having nightmares. She's afraid of her family falling apart more than it already has." Rachel thinks, 'I don't have a family anymore; you made sure of that. And what do you know about nightmares? Thanks to you I constantly have them.' The adults continue to talk. Trigon has all the right answers; sounds so concerned about his daughter. 'You didn't cared about me when you were beating me, so why start now?'

After the social worker leaves, Trigon enters the family room. Rachel's still pretending to be asleep. She doesn't know if he realizes she's awake or not. He says, "You've done everything right so far. You're pathetic enough to gain sympathy. Soon they should forget about your little predicament and I'll be done with this investigation. I knew I could talk my way out of it. You should've known better than to take me on. Remember, I promised to make you life a living hell."

Trigon leaves after giving his little speech. His daughter continues to lie still. Tears seep out from her lashes. 'Did you ever care about me?'

Rachel misses a day or two of school because she's sick with the flu. She's scared to go back to school. She knows it's ridiculous to be afraid. Nothing should happen at school. Ever since she pushed away her friends, she's been alone. Nobody's bothered her. She knows he wouldn't follow her to school. Even if he did, people, not friends but people would be around her. He can't hurt her again. However, Rachel hates the thought of being in such close quarters with so many people.

Trigon drops her off at school, unaware of his daughter's apprehension. Full of dread, Rachel enters the noisy high school. She tightly clutches to her backpack as her eyes quickly scan the hallway. Everything is normal. In fact, nobody even notices her. She makes it to her locker without any incidences.

Somebody runs into her. A guy grabs her by her shoulders to steady her. "Sorry. Didn't see you there." He's gone before Rachel can even react. With a scream frozen in her throat, Rachel tries to keep from breaking down. Her heart is beating wildly and she's visibly shaking. Clutching her books to her chest, she leans against the lockers as she begins to calm down.

'I've hardly been in school for five minute and my nerves are unraveling. How am I going to survive almost four more months of this? I hate being around all these people.

With a deep shuddering breath, Rachel goes to her first class. She hopes she'll feel a little normal in class.

As she walks to class with her head down, she bumps into someone. The guy turns around; it's Jason. She hasn't really seen him since they broke up. He's apparently moved on; he has his arm around a girl. He says, "Hey Rachel how was your winter break?"

"I…" Rachel struggles to keep the tears from forming.

He can't help but notice that she's upset. He assumes it's because she sees him with his new girlfriend. "Hey," he says concerned, "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

She shakes her head and pushes passed them. She quickly says, "I have to get to class."

She hears the girl with Jason say, "What's her problem?" Rachel wonders as she hurries to class, 'How am I going to do this?'

Rachel survives her class and all the others that day. Part of her is glad she switched her classes a few months ago. Now she's not in the same classes as Gar and Kori. She's relieved she doesn't have to see them every other day. If they could see her, would they know something's wrong?

Thanks again. As always comment and suggestions are welcome.