I hate them, these eyes and these ears. They were mine once, they used to be weak, but that's what made them so great. I miss the days when I had to imagine what was happening down the hall, when I couldn't hear exactly what was going on. I hate what these eyes show me, things I can't bear to look at. So much ability and strength, and I hate it. I hear it all. My comrade taking a shower upstairs, the baby's sleeping breaths, the man who guides us smashing his thumb with a hammer in his study. There's nothing that happens in this house I can't hear. Every mechanical heartbeat, every mumbled curse, every breath and sigh. It's always so loud, I wish I could turn it all off like a radio.
I miss my ears, the ones that were soft cartilage and barely able to pick up noises like a heartbeat. It's stifling, the things I hear. I miss my eyes, they're still green, but they search, they search and search always looking for hidden dangers, for an enemy spy. All I see are my flaws, in the mirror I see them, I'm not beautiful just pretty. I'm not human, that's why he won't look at me the way I want him to. I can see it in his eyes, how I wish I were blind, so I couldn't see that look. The look of regret, regret for himself and regret for me.
If I were blind I could at least be free of the regret, or the look of apology that Gilmore always gives me when we're in a fight. I don't want his apology, I want to trade in these eyes and ears, get my old ones back. But I have no choice, I never did. So I'll continue to try to help my friends do what is right because these eyes and ears are theirs. I'll let them use them until I can look outside and not fear the sight of some threat approaching.
