raven's perspective
"Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos. Azarath..."
I sighed, frustrated with myself, "Come on, Raven. You've gotta push through and meditate."
I took in a deep breath through my nose, then exhaled it through my mouth.
The sunshine trickled through my bedroom window, penciling my shadow on the ground. I floated in a lotus position as the afternoon wind gently raked through my violet tresses.
I shut my eyes and restarted my chant.
As hard as I tried to focus, flashbacks kept replaying in my mind.
Beastboy's flashbacks.
I was in so much shock, it was agonizing.
The fact that one of the happiest people I have ever come across went through so much trauma was mind-boggling. What made matters even worse, was that Beastboy never mentioned his past.
Far worse than that, Beastboy was always smiling.
He was always smiling, laughing, playing jokes, and the last thing anyone would think, is that he is carrying something so heavy.
I failed yet another attempt of meditation, then stood on my feet.
"I don't get it. Why am I seeing all of this stuff about Beastboy? The child neglect, the abuse, his parents' death. And no matter what I do, I can't get it out of my head. I read, I meditate, I do everything I can and..." my mind trailed to another train of thought.
Even though my friend's history troubled me, I wanted to know more about it. I wanted to know more about the dark ego that such a light-hearted superhero suppressed daily.
I slipped my hood over my head and exited my room. The tower was eerily silent, except the sound of chewing nearby.
My stare shifted to my side, where I eyed Silkie chewing on the end of my cloak.
I gently tugged the fabric away and bent down to the larvae, "Silkie, my cloak is not for eating purposes. Robin's cape is made out of polarized titanium that is ten times stronger than steel, maybe you'd have better luck with that."
Silkie gurgled with a smile, drool leaking from his mouth.
"I can get you some Sour Patch or something nice to chew in a few minutes, I just have to do something important first. Don't eat off the entire tower, okay? Cyborg would have a fit." I pet the mutant kindly, then he wiggled down the hallway.
Shifting to the other end of the hallway, I gazed at Beastboy's room door. I already sensed that his room was empty, so there was no need to knock. I used my pseudo-ipntangibility, and morphed through the door.
Before my body was able to settle in the new surrounding, my nose picked up a surge of pungent scents.
"Can air fresheners even survive in here? Yuck." I grimaced in disgust, immediately pinching my nose and breathing through my mouth.
It was impossible to see the floor, being that it was covered in clothes, strings, bottles, magazines, and wrappers. The drawers were jammed and half open, with clothing spilling out of them. The posters on Beastboy's walls were slanted and crinkled.
Boxes were either turned over with items in them, or empty and flattened on the ground. Old gaming devices were crammed into a corner, some of them with broken glass and ripped cords. Beastboy's bed was not spread, the sheets darkening in color.
The sight was absolutely horrific to a clean freak like me. Being in the presence of such a havoc made my skin crawl.
"Seriously, how does Beastboy even find anything in here? Monks of Azarath." I stumbled to his dresser, where I found a framed picture.
A green monkey was hanging upside down on a tree branch, while holding a banana with a smile.
A brunette woman had her hair tied into a ponytail. She had blue eyes and a fair complexion. With a pair of binoculars around her neck, she seemed to be laughing in the photo. Left to the monkey was a blond man with emerald eyes, glancing at the monkey with a dim grin.
"This... this is Beastboy with his parents." I brushed away dust with my thumb.
My hand began to shake as I recalled the lamentable vision I had of Beastboy's parents dying.
"I'm afraid of losing you. I'm going to be alone."
Tears threatened to escape my eyes, but I refused to let that happen. I placed the picture back in its place and changed my course.
I turned to another pile and scanned it with my eyes. The heap was a combination of CDs, manga, moped magazines, origami, and comic books.
Using my powers, I flipped through a few pages of manga.
"Hmm. Beastboy has a wide collection of these things, and I'm sure it doesn't end in this small mountain of stuff."
A smile curved on my face as I realized the manga he showed me a couple of weeks ago. Beastboy was so passionate about the things he loved... it was honestly so precious.
The fact that he found a connection between me and one of his favorite characters was without a doubt, adorable.
"These are self explanatory," I glanced at a stash of moped magazines, "Beastboy's a sucker for mopeds."
My face scrunched in confusion as I came across the mix of origami.
I wielded one into my hand with magic and observed it carefully. I've seen Beastboy create origami more often than not, but I never understood the meaning behind this specific collection in front of me. Every origami piece was crafted into a bird, or a boat.
Beastboy was a simple, yet complex character, and that is what made him an enigma.
I came to realize that what I considered "a mess" or "junk", was not like that to Beastboy.
Everything he had held some sort of significance.
After a couple of minutes of silently admiring the form of art, I placed the origami back in the pile.
My next task, was the hoard of comics. Now, I was expecting a string of Batman, Superman, Iron Man—other classics. To my surprise, there was not one classic comic, or any about other superheroes.
The comics were only about one person.
Beastboy.
The collections were labeled: "DOOM PATROL (Volume 1)", "TALES OF THE NEW TEEN TITANS (#3)" "NEW TEEN TITANS (Issue #3)".
"There's like fifty copies of each series, why's that? Well, Beastboy seems confident enough to actually purchase comics about himself." I giggled and opened a page.
Before I got to read a strip or soak in any images, the door swooshed open.
Beastboy entered the room.
His once somber expression was instantly ignited with anger.
"What are you doing in here?!" his voice was rigid.
"Uh— it's not what it looks like, I promise. I was just—"
"It's exactly what it freakin' looks like. You're in my room, without my permission, sticking your nose into my belongings." he replied with a vexed expression.
"Beastboy, let me explain—"
"I ain't takin' no explanations from you, Raven. You get to throw a tantrum when anyone goes in your room, let alone breathes near it, and now you can just waltz into my room and do whatever you want? You've gotta be out of that freakin' mind of yours." his cheeks drowned into a layer of red as he clenched his teeth.
"And I heard some laughter before I came in here. What's so funny?" his eyes shifted to my hands, then widened.
Beastboy's entire body froze, yet appeared as if it were to explode into a fire from hell.
"Get. Out." he spat.
"Wait, I wasn't really laughing at the comic, I was—"
"I SAID GET OUT!" the changeling's scream sent chills across my spine.
Standing up, I felt my knees buckle from Beastboy's rage.
"Beastboy, can you please just let me talk?" I requested quietly.
His only response was a finger pointed to the door and tearful eyes.
I watched in horror as his body shivered in anger, and as he wheezed to regulate the pressure of emotions. I listened to every choked whimper, cry, and scream.
It took everything within myself not to break in front of Beastboy, but I held it down.
My heart was wrenching from witnessing my friend's physical and emotional torment. Overwhelmed with the emotional tension within and between us both, my empathetic radar went into a state of shock.
I quietly placed the comic book back in the collection, then walked past Beastboy.
"Raven."
I stopped right before the door.
"I trusted you."