Disclaimer: I own Gambit… read my InuYasha fic, if you think I'm lying. I OWN Gambit!
InuYasha: And she owns me too. *Sigh*
*Girlish fan girl squeal, glomps InuYasha*
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Title: Hidden Thoughts
Author: Banshee of Death (necromancer307@yahoo.com)
Rating: PG-13-- Mature content, profanity.
Summary: "…You know that I'm safe outside here, in the rain… Except you don't know that I have a knife. And I bet I can guess what you'd be saying right now, Professor: 'Rogue has mental instability and is unable to cope!' Spare me the counseling, spare yourself some time." A dark and sort of confusing narrative by Rogue, and how she 'copes' with her life at the institute. Please Read & Review.
Chapter One: Rain
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So.
Here I am, sitting by the window in my room. I'm guessing it's midnight right about now. I really can't tell, anyways. I can't see a clock. And I guess I'm too lazy to search for one. Besides, I was already searching for something else a while ago. Oh, and one more thing-- I'm at the window in the kitchen. Not the hallway. Not my bedroom. What? I never said I was at the window at my bedroom. You must be imagining things. And sorry about your poor mind over there. Trying to position my image somewhere. Like my bedroom. Or the hallway. Or the kitchen. But does the kitchen even have a window? I guess you wouldn't know that. Are you the one residing at the Xavier Institute? Are you the mutant here? Of course not. So you don't know.
But that shouldn't matter, should it? I don't even know who the hell you are. I'm just talking to you. I'm the little voice troubling you with all of my rants and problems. But while we're on it: Screw you. But the actual truth of it is, I'm not in the kitchen. Not the hallway, or my bedroom either. Where am I? 'Oh, you can't fool me, you'll tell me eventually…' I know that's what you're thinking. And so, you're right. I can fool you-- but for the most part, you're right.
I'm outside. You know where I am now, huh? So scoot off, feeling you've done your job. Feeling fulfilled, like you know I'm okay. You know that I'm safe outside here, in the rain. Drenched, wet, and cold. Lord knows if you even care about that… Except you don't know that I have a knife. No, you didn't. Confused? No? Good. Then let's keep going.
My forsaken knife. Yes, it's mine now. How did I come to claim it? It's written in blood. Blood upon my knife. And I bet I can guess what you'd be saying right now, Professor: 'Rogue has mental instability! Rogue is unable to cope! Jean, come, let us help Rogue!' First of all, I am not mentally unstable. I know just want I'm doing. See? I'm even telling you what I'm doing. And no, you are wrong again. I'm able to cope. This is just the way I'm doing it. And chances are, you had better shove your speech on instability and happiness far up your ass, because all I'll do is laugh. So spare me the counseling, spare yourself some time. See? Everyone wins. Everyone's happy.
So I pull off the glove on my right. I pull of the glove on my left. Same routine every night. They fall to my feet, upon the wet ground, as I'm too lazy to care. Tonight, unlike the other nights, I even kick them. And so, I pull the knife across my thin, scaly skin. It makes my hair stand on end, it makes the goose bumps pop out of my arms.
But it feels good . . . Until a certain voice interrupts my thoughts, making my stomach churn instead.
"Rogue?"
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Of course, it is a short chapter. Nyeh-- the next one will be loner due to this semi-cliffhanger. ^_~
--Banshee
InuYasha: And she owns me too. *Sigh*
*Girlish fan girl squeal, glomps InuYasha*
-
Title: Hidden Thoughts
Author: Banshee of Death (necromancer307@yahoo.com)
Rating: PG-13-- Mature content, profanity.
Summary: "…You know that I'm safe outside here, in the rain… Except you don't know that I have a knife. And I bet I can guess what you'd be saying right now, Professor: 'Rogue has mental instability and is unable to cope!' Spare me the counseling, spare yourself some time." A dark and sort of confusing narrative by Rogue, and how she 'copes' with her life at the institute. Please Read & Review.
Chapter One: Rain
------------------------------------------------------------
So.
Here I am, sitting by the window in my room. I'm guessing it's midnight right about now. I really can't tell, anyways. I can't see a clock. And I guess I'm too lazy to search for one. Besides, I was already searching for something else a while ago. Oh, and one more thing-- I'm at the window in the kitchen. Not the hallway. Not my bedroom. What? I never said I was at the window at my bedroom. You must be imagining things. And sorry about your poor mind over there. Trying to position my image somewhere. Like my bedroom. Or the hallway. Or the kitchen. But does the kitchen even have a window? I guess you wouldn't know that. Are you the one residing at the Xavier Institute? Are you the mutant here? Of course not. So you don't know.
But that shouldn't matter, should it? I don't even know who the hell you are. I'm just talking to you. I'm the little voice troubling you with all of my rants and problems. But while we're on it: Screw you. But the actual truth of it is, I'm not in the kitchen. Not the hallway, or my bedroom either. Where am I? 'Oh, you can't fool me, you'll tell me eventually…' I know that's what you're thinking. And so, you're right. I can fool you-- but for the most part, you're right.
I'm outside. You know where I am now, huh? So scoot off, feeling you've done your job. Feeling fulfilled, like you know I'm okay. You know that I'm safe outside here, in the rain. Drenched, wet, and cold. Lord knows if you even care about that… Except you don't know that I have a knife. No, you didn't. Confused? No? Good. Then let's keep going.
My forsaken knife. Yes, it's mine now. How did I come to claim it? It's written in blood. Blood upon my knife. And I bet I can guess what you'd be saying right now, Professor: 'Rogue has mental instability! Rogue is unable to cope! Jean, come, let us help Rogue!' First of all, I am not mentally unstable. I know just want I'm doing. See? I'm even telling you what I'm doing. And no, you are wrong again. I'm able to cope. This is just the way I'm doing it. And chances are, you had better shove your speech on instability and happiness far up your ass, because all I'll do is laugh. So spare me the counseling, spare yourself some time. See? Everyone wins. Everyone's happy.
So I pull off the glove on my right. I pull of the glove on my left. Same routine every night. They fall to my feet, upon the wet ground, as I'm too lazy to care. Tonight, unlike the other nights, I even kick them. And so, I pull the knife across my thin, scaly skin. It makes my hair stand on end, it makes the goose bumps pop out of my arms.
But it feels good . . . Until a certain voice interrupts my thoughts, making my stomach churn instead.
"Rogue?"
-------------------------------------------------------------------
Of course, it is a short chapter. Nyeh-- the next one will be loner due to this semi-cliffhanger. ^_~
--Banshee