She hated it. Her own gods damned weakness. Her need to hurt herself. Every time she messed up. She had to feel the pain of it. She felt like a failure. She made her body bruise, ache, and bleed for it. It hurt, but it was always worth it to ensure she didn't do it again. She was weak though. The pain, it was intoxicating. It made her remember she was, in fact, still alive. As much as she did not want to be.

What good was free-will, if she could not even end her own life when she so chose?

She glared at the wall in front of her. She longed to drive her fist into it. Bruise her knuckles once more. Maybe even bust them open. The wall did nothing to deserve her anger. It was simply an object. Many a wall had felt her fist. In frustration, sadness, anger, resentment. Whatever the reason, the pain made her remember..., or did it make her forget? A cruel smile tugged at her beautifully pale face. She let it. She was so torn.

Between life and death. Hope and despair. Depression and happiness. Loneliness and contentment.

It..., it was a frightening prospect really. How easily she could go from one set of emotions to another. One fact always remained, however. Death, the desire, the need, the craving. It was never truly far from her thoughts. It lingered. Temptation. Yet..., here she sat. Upon her lilac colored sheets adorning her University Dorm bed in the room she shared with another girl who would be arriving in the next week or two. Here, she still sat. To what end?

Pursuing a dream she no longer believes in. To become a adolescent psychologist, helping "troubled teens". As if there is hope. As if all she has seen is naught. As if it is really that simple. To let go of all that was and accept what is. She is told, it is that simple. Yet..., she is not the forgiving sort. She cannot forgive and forget. Every wrong, every slip-up, even if she doesn't know what happend, the emotional aftermath remains.

As usual, her thoughts are a scattered mess. Growling lightly, the purple haired young adult digs in her black messenger bag for her notebook, sitting back against the headboard with the notebook upon her left knee, pencil in her right hand as she begins to attempt to organize that which is her mind.

I didn't ask for this.
I never wanted it.
Yet here I stand.
A life I don't even deserve.
Thrust into my hands.
Told I am free,
Knowing I am caged.
Lied to from birth,
Does it ever end?
I wonder, day to day,
Is there any hope?
For humanity, for any of us.
Do we matter in the slightest
Or are we insignificant?
What gods would do this?
Be it that we are mere entertainment,
I hope our struggles amuse you.
We will never rise above what we are.
Too easily blinded by the obvious to see the truth.

She closed her notebook after rereading her words. She set it upon the floor gently, her pencil laid atop it.

She hadn't always been so cynical. Years ago..., she had been shy, kind, caring. What changed?
Coming out as a lesbian, declaring her desire to study the human mind, telling her father she did not care what he thought of her, virtually friendless anyway. She was completely different from who she was... It had only been..., what, four years? Even so. Sometimes, she didn't recognize herself anymore. The change was that drastic.

She developed a more feminine figure, large breasts, hips, nonetheless, she went to workout every day. She wasn't going to be a weakling. She kept her hair shorn short, the back only a couple inches long and her bangs hanging into her eyes. She dressed almost always in ripped skinny jeans or tripp pants and graphic t-shirts.
Many of her old classmates had come out as well, and some she became better friends with since she had gained much more confidence. Kiba, was one of them, he was always willing to back her up in anything, but he understood she didn't always need protecting. He was like her big brother, in a way.
Her best friend, however, was one Tayuya. A loud-mouthed musician, a delinquent, and of course, a lesbian. She was the one person Hinata trusted above all. The one who knew everything about her. They had no interest in each other romantically, although..., should they get bored, they have no problem messing around, just for the fun of it. Especially if some undesireable is hitting on one of them.

Tayuya could make her forget her sadness and anger. Somehow. Hinata was endlessly grateful to her for it, but Tayuya always waved it off, saying she had no need of thanks. Hinata, of course, would take the opportunity to turn on her charm, walking up behind her friend, her breasts pressing into the red head's sensitive back, her slender arms around her waist, her chin resting upon the other girl's shoulder, her lips pouting and her eyes wide. Tayuya would blush furiously, telling Hinata to fuck off and Hinata would just laugh and release her friend.

A strange friendship, truly.
Years before..., she would have died at her behavior, now..., it seemed natural.
For everything, Tayuya was like her sister, more a sister than Hanabi had ever been at any rate. The brat.

She shook her head. Tayuya. She should go see if she had anything fun planned. Things were always interesting with her. Smirking, Hinata slipped her phone out of her pocket and sent her friend a quick text. Her smirk widening into a grin upon the response, she left the room, on her way to Tayuya, fun awaited. They would be 'terrorizing' the newer freshmen, some who were coming from far places, like Tayuya herself. New people to fuck with. Those that didn't know about either of them.
Shaking her head in amazement, Hinata marveled at how her best friend could make her forget everything and just be carefree. It never ceased to amaze her. Honestly.