"I Can't Be Like Them": A RWBY OC's Perspective

I Can’t Be Like Them

My middle name is Agrona
My mom says it means battle,
My dad says it means slaughter.
Both are right
So why do they feel so wrong?
My history classes teach me that individuality is a charity
Something given to you without needing to earn it.
But what if I want to earn it?!
It is a fallacy!
It has to be!
How can I call my identity mine
When it was something given to me?!
How can I let the light of my soul shine,
When it’s suffocating in the expectations of what they want to see?!

I can’t spend my life killing monsters
When the one I’m most afraid of is already inside
And uses the job as another reason to hide!
I can’t live a life of saving lives
When I’m still fighting for the longevity of mine!

I can’t be like them!
I can’t dream of heroic fights
Breath-taking sights
When I’m always fighting to take my breath back
Because anxiety has decided that it prefers the sleepless nights!
I can’t have sleepless nights and cry
Wondering why
Even with the Grimm dead, I still feel like I’m going to die?
I can’t draw my sword with every suspicious sound
While constantly thinking about the day I might draw my sword when no one’s around.

I could tell myself lies and socialise
But the truth is that my heart is a small space to live in,
And depression is the housemate who is critical about the company I’m keeping!

It tells me I can’t be like them, so don’t even bother trying
It tells me the only reason I awakened my Aura
Is because it convinced my soul it was dying!
It tells me not to forget about the monster underneath my bed
Because even if I beat the one in my head
There’s still the monster underneath my bed!
And I will never know when it goes to sleep
So I can’t.

I’m constantly reminding myself that I’m still breathing
So why do my parents look at me as if they’re grieving?
It’s for the loss of the daughter they wanted
And they start to wonder
Why I can’t be like them, and grow up to be an experienced Hunter?
They put a blade in my hand before I knew what it was for
And years later I used that same blade to carve myself shallow
Because the deeper ones would be harder to ignore
But now it doesn’t matter either way because my Aura will heal it
Look mom, not a mark on my body!
She doesn’t know it’s because my soul knows how to conceal it

But I still feel it
Every single day
I travel to so many places because I’m looking for a reason to stay!
But I couldn’t stay
Not at Beacon
Not at home
Not with a friend
I’d rather be alone
But I am not alone!
Depression and anxiety are always there
And even if I’m not all there upstairs
I’m always downstairs
Because the only bed I’m allowed to use in this house would be one of theirs.

But I hate spending time with them
They never eat
And when I bring it up
They just say they’d rather devour me
Or themselves
Or each other
Under the cover
I try my best not to cry
When they tell me about all of the previous people who’ve lived with them
Then mock me, because they want to know why I think I can’t be like them

They laugh
I’m the joke
The setup
The punchline
And even the explanation to exclamations
Because there are no questions other than the ones I don’t ask
As I raise my parents’ flask and realise
It was naïve to think I can’t be like them
I picked it up the second they dropped it
It didn’t even hit the floor
But I did and that’s where my mind thinks I should stay
I’m still downstairs trying to convince myself that I’m okay
I draw my sword to a suspicious sound but no one’s around
I think I’m finally alone
Then I hear a key turning and realise…

My housemates are home.