the depression is back! hooray!

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when i was little, i used to love how much i looked like my mother.

she was a beautiful woman that always shone so brightly, lighting up my days even when i felt at my lowest.

i only ever wished that i could live up to being as amazing as her.

i mean, how could i not? we had the same silver colored hair, which she told me was inherited from her grandmother. we even had the same light dusting of freckles and the same dimples, but hers were a bit more prominent than mine. and my eyes were a carbon copy of hers.

i always loved that out of all the features i inherited from my mom, my eyes resembled hers the most.

but when she died, i couldn't stand to look at myself in the mirror. suddenly, it was like i was looking at my beautiful, kind mother, and she was so disappointed in what i had done to her. it was like she was staring right into my soul.

and so the features i'd inherited and used to love so much became part of the reason i hated myself.

it was my fault.

she died because she tried to protect me from the man who only ever beat her when she defended me. otherwise, he didn't hurt her.

he beat her to death. and it was all to protect me and my stupid ass self.

god, i didn't deserve to be alive. i'm a killer, in every sense of the word. it didn't matter how young i was or if my stepfather had been an abusive, alcoholic dickhead. i killed her.

i don't want to live like this anymore goddammit. i don't deserve it.

someone's at the door

my thoughts stop, but i continue staring at the ceiling. i barely register the soft knock on the door, but with the incessant urging from venom, i get to my feet and walk over. groaning, i slowly unlock the door, only to come face to face with someone i truly hadn't expected to come and check on me.

"what do you want?" i utter, and his eyes narrow. my voice had cracked a bit, but i honestly didn't care. after that stupid meeting i'd had yesterday, i hadn't felt much.

"are you ok?"

my eyes widen at the quiet tone, but then narrow back at him. "why do you care?"

he growls lowly. surprisingly, he pushes me softly out of the way and enters my room. he must've realized i wasn't going to put up much of a fight, though, because he closed the door behind him.

so we're just gonna let him in and interrogate us? wow, smart move, rin

"shut up..." i murmur, catching his attention, but he just sighs. he knew who i was talking to.

"i'm asking again. are you ok?"

i didn't answer. instead, i stare at the ground, trying to think up an excuse, but he cut my thoughts off before i could come up with one.

"what happened when you left with aizawa?"
he asks, making me let out a bitter chuckle.

"why do you care, exactly? seriously, are you a villain or something trying to impersonate bakugo? because last i checked, you didn't really concern yourself with anyone other than kirishima because he grew on you," i say, crossing my arms across my chest while staring down at him. right, i was a couple inches taller than the rude pomeranian. not like that mattered much in his eyes, though.

speaking of, they narrowed even more, another growl sounding from him at my empty words. but he takes a deep breath, annoyance settling on his features instead of the usual blatant anger.

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