I found this in my old documents... guess I never published it.
Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I Don't Own Young Justice!
He was tired, so tired. He could feel the rawness of his throat and the heaviness of his eyes. Eyes that were burning from the uncried tears that had been forced to never fall.
A hole in his heart, a hole that he had made himself. Strange.
A hole that he had ripped and torn at until it bled. Bled so hard that he could barely breathe. And he had liked it, needed it. Wanted to bleed and bleed and never see the light of day again.
He hated himself.
And there were voices around him. Most sounded cold and distant. Others, full of laughter…
He wanted to go home and bury himself in darkness. Bleed, finally bleed.
The world seemed numb to him, he was okay with it. Better than getting yelled at… anything was better than getting yelled at.
He trembled slightly.
No one noticed.
His vision seemed to blur in and out as he stared at the ground. He felt like throwing up.
Maybe he could get out.
No one would care. They were mad, beyond mad.
He hated himself.
Like a silhouette he left. Somehow finding himself alone in his room.
How he got there, a mystery.
Ding!
Silence was interrupted with a small alerting noise. His tired eyes turned to face the noise. His discarded arm computer lit up as a small display opened. A holographic timer beeped 12:00
"Happy New years." a robotic voice announced
His heart stopped for a moment.
Nightwing slid to the floor silent words screaming in his mind. He found himself trembling against the cold concrete.
"I DON'T CARE ABOUT THAT JUNK!"
"You have no idea what your secrets are doing to us!"
"How could you lie to me!?"
"I TRUSTED YOU!"
"If something happens to her, I will never forgive you."
"Friends? I wouldn't even call you my brother. Not anymore."
"I HATE you."
Shaking cold hands reached up and slid over burning ears.
I hate myself
I hate myself
I hate myself
"I HATE MYSELF!" He cried out, voice badly shaking. Tears streamed down his face hitting the floor in drops.
He reached up and ripped off his mask, throwing it across the room. It barely made a sound compared to his loud sobbs that were escaping him.
He could breathe, couldn't speak, couldn't calm down.
And he was trembling, trembling so badly. Sobs racking him as tears stream down.
No one would save him now. No one would care where he was, how he felt.
No one would love him.
Not even himself.
"I… h-hate myself-f..." He sobbed.
Then there he was again, shaking against the cold floor.
And he was so, so tired...
...Strange, wasn't it?
Thanks for reading! :)
and as always, see you next time.