He started down the street, seeing nothing but streetlamps and autumn leaves ahead. He had just been fired for his, as they liked to all it, overactive imagination. He was lucky, or so he was told, to not get sent straight to the nuthouse. They had only laughed when he protested that the green had been anything but his imagination. Green eyes stared out at him, as he felt a sudden chill, not perceiving their perception. He had perceived, though, earlier in the day. What his spouse would think, he didn't have the faintest idea. He could still see, however, those green eyes, feral and murderous, staring at him through his office window, in spite of his complete lack of anything resembling an office at the moment. He stopped, suddenly afraid, and turned around. He saw nothing but autumn leaves and streetlamps, same as before. Orange and yellow, just as plain as day, but no green. Perhaps he was crazy, just like they said, but he somehow doubted it. A flash of green suddenly appeared at the edge of his vision, and he hurried along.
He went home, and slept on the couch, his partner disgusted with him. He was a good for nothing, a lay about, scum on the bottom of the collective shoes of humanity. He was even starting to believe all those things. He went to a new job interview the very next day, or he would have done so, anyway. He spotted those green eyes in the rear view mirror, and went back home with the greatest haste possible. He didn't imagine that. He couldn't have imagined it. He was insane, worthless, in dire need of an insane asylum. He didn't sleep on the couch that night. He slept in a tent in the middle of the living room. He couldn't see any green in that sterile, grey thing. He was fine. He was absolutely fine.
He talked to a doctor, who muttered about the strangest delusional tendencies he had ever seen, and shortly gave him a bag-full of medication. He didn't take the medication. What if the medication, in secret, came from those green eyes? What if it was all poison inside a pill? What if the doctor worked for the green eyes? He couldn't risk it. His partner moved out, saying that he couldn't take it anymore. He was compassionate, so he knew that it was probably just that he had also seen the green eyes. The green eyes were terrifying. They were human, but even the slightest drop of humanity fell beyond their reach. They were the eyes of a monster in man's clothing.
He went out for a casual walk the next day, to prove something to himself, perhaps. He wore sunglasses just the same. Green flashed at him from the side of his view, nothing more than dew dropped grass. Green flashed at him from the side of his view, nothing more than a nice car with unusual paint. Green flashed at him from the side of his view, and it was nothing more than a black cat. Everything was perfectly harmless, nothing could hurt him, everything was fine. Then he saw a man, wearing a dress, and seeming no less dangerous for it. Then he saw hair like night, and skin as pale as snow. He saw green eyes on that man, and his heart stopped. He saw an odd and sinister stick, and a sudden flash of Green. It seemed to come from the malevolence of the stick, as it was briefly waved and a few infernal words were muttered.
He died, and he was nothing more than orange autumn leaves and yellow streetlights, but the last light that he saw was green. As he floated into a state of absolute nothing, of which death was comprised, he captured the insane, bemused words of the man with green eyes. "Muggles are far too easy to play with". He wondered, briefly, what a muggle was. Probably a torture device. Probably a vehicle for that twisted snow white, hair as black as ebony, skin as white as snow, and eyes as green as poison. He was, soon after, autumn leaves and streetlights, his world utterly devoid of the green that had plagued him.