This story is a Jaina-centric companion to the story Yavin Academy. It will contain many spoilers for information that has yet to be revealed in its parent fanfiction. If you do not wish to be spoiled, I would suggest holding off reading this until later in Yavin Academy or until Yavin Academy is complete.

Hit List: Jaina's companion to Yavin Academy. This story begins in the late spring before the events of Yavin Academy.

Chapter 1:

Jaina stumbled into the bathroom. Something hard connected with her hip bone; she gripped the sink ledge and looked up into her reflection in the mirror.

"Ugly wench."

Bags hung under her eyes from which dark mascara streaks ran. Her hair was a dirty mass of knots.

"You'll never be able to do it, Jaina. No one thinks you will."

"Zekk," she cried through her chapped and cracking lips. He had left… again. It had hurt this time. It hadn't hurt in a long time. She gripped the sink harder.

"You're nothing, Jaina. You're a junkie. If you're mother knew the truth about you…"

If her mother knew the truth… He hadn't finished the sentence, but she knew the rest. If her mother knew the truth about her, she would hate her, despise her, and disown her. She wouldn't be proud of her like she had said just last week.

"I'm all you'll ever have." He kept repeating himself as he went harder, faster.

"Come back," she whimpered. The pain was steadily increasing. Pain, he'd always said pain was what made you feel alive. She closed her eyes, unable to stand the death that stared back at her from the mirror.

"You'll be better off," he whispered before leaving her bed, her room.

The shakes were starting; soon, she knew, the high would be gone. She opened her eyes again and gazed at herself. Her eyes, everyone loved her eyes, but now they held no emotion, nothing but the emptiness that was being reflected from her heart.

She grabbed a pillbox that rested on her vanity and shook it, trying to hear the rattling of the pills. There were none. The pain was steadily increasing; the shakes were steadily becoming more jarring. She opened the mirror cabinet over her sink. Her blurry vision didn't allow her to make out where her other bottles were. Her shaking hand knocked down an indeterminable amount of bottles. They crashed to the floor and rolled in various directions and out of sight. She groped around more in the cabinet, eventually encountering something sharp. She gripped the blade, ignoring how the edges cut into her skin, and pulled it out. She'd cut herself a few times before in an effort to release some of the pain that would build up inside of her as she came down off her highs. She hated to do it, but desperate times…

She took the blade and dragged it down her arm, starting from the wrist. Her shakes jarred it. She dropped the blade once it was over. There was blood, too much blood than there should have been for such a small, shallow cut. Maybe it wasn't small and shallow, she couldn't tell. She gripped the wound and stumbled back until she hit a wall. As her right shoulder slammed against what felt like it could have been a door jamb, she cried out in pain. What had she done?

"Jaina!" someone called from the connecting bedroom.

"Zekk?" she weakly asked as she slumped down the wall of her bathroom. Had he come back to her?

"Jaina?" the voice asked again. It wasn't Zekk; the male's voice was far too kind to be his. She felt strong arms wrapped around her and heard incoherent screams before being completely enveloped by unconsciousness.