I'm back to write on another fan-fiction, a sequel that I actually promised I would write. Unfortunately it's taken me a very, very long time to come up with a plot for it. . .and I've been practicing a little bit of writing on my own to get the tone just right or at least as close as possible. Also, this is the end of the trilogy! Um-to say the least this is the most mental I've ever gotten in any of my fics. If you've read the other two, you know exactly what to expect. -NOTE-To understand any part of this, it's almost required to read my other two fan-fictions Teen Titans: Happy Endings and Teen Titans: Remnants. "I think I'll blow my brains against the ceiling. And as the fragments of my skull begin to fall. Fall on you tongue like pixie dust. Just think happy thoughts and we'll fly home." My Chemical Romance, Headfirst for Halos. -Teen Titans: Coda.-Prologue ‘What a beautiful hell.’ No longer was there a journal to write. . . No longer was there a friend there to save her from the fall. . . There was nothing, and that in itself is worth volumes to the mind. In the middle of the sanitarium, a room number that needs no mention sat a girl alone in the corner of her four walled prison. Indigo strands of hair danced in front of her face as she merely glanced at the walls that seemed to inch in on her every single day. Oddly enough there were no tears, something that her lifestyle could simply not allow. Tears, emotion, anything sort of feeling could lead to massive destruction. It didn’t matter then, though, there were no friends waiting for her outside those four walls; that also meant that there was no reason to even try to escape. The girl sat hunched over, knees against her chin, wrapped in a ball. There was no strange rocking because the drug haze took care of any nervous reaction. Her glazed eyes simply stared at the window which allowed a solitary beam of moonlight to appear through, the white light making no contrast against the white walls, bed, ceiling, her clothes, and window panel. Even her abnormally pale skin blended against her surroundings. The only thing that made the moonlight any different was that it reached through the cracks of the small crisscrossed wire that rested in the middle of it. There was something alluring about it, a much needed darkness for her to grab onto in her world of white, a color supposedly associated with all that is good. Getting up from the ground is and simply strolling over to the window was something that she wished for more than anything, but even that was not possible. There wasn’t even a recollection of how she wound up setting in the corner of her prison. Of course there was another matter to consider. . . I. .am. . .R-Rav. . .Raven. How long could she keep onto that bit of information in the eternal fog which was now her life? It would be five, ten minutes at most. Raven. . .I am Raven. . .I am Raven. . .I am Raven. . .I am Raven. . .I am Raven. . .I am Raven. . .I am Raven. . .I am Raven. . .I am Raven. . .I am Raven. . .