It was dark out, night-time, and pitch black…it was the best time and only time that Rogue could have to herself. The school only had so much room, and with so many more mutants joining daily, it was difficult for Rogue to have any space. And she needed space, so that she wouldn't hurt anyone, and so that she could think.
Right now she needed to be able think for some essay-contest-assignment thing that Professor Xavier gave to them. It wasn't mandatory by any means; it was just something the Prof Thought would help out with their "literature skills" over the four-day break. She wasn't doing it for her literature skills though. She was going to write the essay for the money, which were a hundred big ones.
The money would be given to anyone and everyone that wrote about something meaningful to them, and that had more than two pages. And it wasn't really an essay since the subject could be anything the students wanted it to be. That was why Rogue was sitting outside in the middle of the night with her notebook and a pen. She was trying to think up her subject.
Ah hate writin' was one of Rogue's thoughts as she sighed, quietly tapping her pen on her notebook. Na' there's a thought… Rogue sat up from her slouched position, with an idea. Why not write about what she hates? She hated plenty of things, and no one could express her hate better than her. So Rogue began to make a list of everything she hated, "I hate writing" being the first bullet.
She hated the clothes she wore, even though she had been wearing things that covered her skin for as long as she remembered. She hated the make-up she wore and that spiky-collar-necklace thing she had been wearing on and off for years but hadn't bothered to learn the name of. She really hated the way she acted sometimes, almost cruel. And she totally despised the way other people treated her.
She hated that she had to act the way she did, even though sometimes it killed her. She hated that she acted and wore the things she hated to keep other people away. She hated how she didn't know who her biological mom and dad were. She hated her adoptive mother, Mystique, and her foster mother, Destiny. She hated that the closest thing she had to a real family was the school and its students.
She hated how depressed she sometimes felt.
She hated that she didn't know her real name, that the closest it came to was Rogue.
She hated that Jean Grey knew all this about her, or that there was a chance that she did. She hated Jean Grey who was so perfect, who had everything she wanted.
Rogue really, really hated how it was all her fault that Apocalypse was somehow re-awakened, and how it was because of her that the world might be destroyed.
Rogue stopped after that last one, just to wipe angry tears out of her eyes. Her list hurt to look at, all these things made her sad and angry and disappointed at herself.
She hated how weak she was writing these down, her tears that fell down and made ink stains over various words of her notebook.
She hated that she had so many things to hate, and how the list kept stretching on.
"Somedaa-y," she whispered to herself, wiping away a more angry tears. "Somedaa-y Ah won' hate so many things, and Ah won' hate mah-self."
Rogue laughed as she realized she had another thing to write down, another thing to hate:
I hate it when I lie.
CVCVCV GHGHGHG JKJKJKJKJK ERERERERE UIUIUIUIU QWQWQWQW OPOPOPOPO KLKLLKLKL
So thanks for reading, I'd appreciate it if you'd comment or review on how this is. It's my first fanfic so reviews would be welcome. And I don't own any of this, except the idea. Thanks again.