Who Am I?
A/N: Pure Rogue angsty-goodness.
And, y'know, review. It's a one-shot, so, don't expect anything more.
~~~~~~~~~~
"Write about your past," the teacher said simply, "A memoir. Start at your early childhood, and write all significant memories. Fond ones, sad ones, confusing ones, and terrifying ones. You have three weeks, so I suggest you get started."
Write about where I grew up? Where did I grow up?
With your mother and father, Dr. and Mrs. John Grey.
In a variety of different foster homes after your parents and brother died.
Sad memories?
"Sorry, Jeannie, but Grandma's with God now.
"Oh, God, Kitty. He hit them head on… and died. Your boyfriend died in a drunk-driving accident! Why aren't you listening to me?
"Alex! Alex! No!"
"Demon! Creature from Hell! You are not human!"
"Wh-what just happened?"
"Evan, your twin…he wasn't wearing his helmet. His skull cracked severely. There was nothing they could do…No, God, no! It isn't your fault! Why are there holes in your clothes? Evan, what's going on?"
Those couldn't be mine. I pressed my face into my palms, leaning my elbows on my desk. I was shaking. I couldn't tell… what memories were mine? Were any of them mine?
I told myself to think of happier things. And there were more flashes.
"Yes, Jean, I'll go to junior prom with you."
"Hey, Kitty, you made the varsity volleyball team!"
"Scott, I can't stop those blasts from your eyes. But these will block them."
"Kurt, we'd like you to come and stay with us, if that's all right with you. No, we don't think you're a demon."
"I can help you control the beast in you."
"Evan, you made state! You're going to the state finals!"
God… those aren't me, either. I searched my mind frantically for my memories. They were there, but I couldn't distinguish them from everyone else's. All the other students were writing quickly, pausing occasionally, and a few sometimes stopped to re-read and erase. No one had noticed that I couldn't write anything. It was really starting to freak me out.
"Ms. Manning?" I said to the teacher. She looked up from a book and sighed.
"Yes, Rogue, you may go to the bathroom." I nodded curtly at her and left swiftly, stalking through the school halls.
I made a sharp right around one corner and headed into the girls' bathroom. There I locked myself in one of the stalls and thought. I reached deep into my mind and tried to pull my memories apart from the others', but Kitty's memories and Kurt's and Evan's and everyone else's stuck like glue.
I went to school in California- no, I'm from somewhere else… Mississippi! Caldecott? Yes, that was it. And my parents were dead, and so was my brother, Alex, and the people there thought I was a demon- I groaned. This was pointless. For every fact I got about me, five of someone else's flashed through my mind. It was too hard to pry them apart.
I walked out and decided that I'd ask the Professor for help. I turned the faucet to cold, and splashed some of the water on my face. And then more memories flashed through my head.
He's dead, oh my God. He was drinking and driving, what's going on here?
I was born out of rape?! Why didn't anyone think to tell me!?
I just killed a man… but I didn't mean to!
They killed her. It's your fault. If you hadn't have stayed, then she would still be alive.
I almost snapped her neck! I can't control it! Why do I let myself live!
That spike impaled her… she shouldn't have snuck up on me… No one can know! Take out the spike, calm down, it isn't your fault. It was a harmless accident- oh, God, there's so much blood…
Shut up!" I screamed, gripping my head painfully. The screaming and memory-flashes in my head only went faster and louder. "Stop it!" I yelled hoarsely, my voice echoing in the small space. I was sent reeling, confused by the noise in my head.
My arm flew through one of the low windows, sending glass flying. Jagged edges ripped into my arm, tearing my sleeves. I sank down onto the floor, sobbing, and that was when I realized something.
There was only one way to get the voices to shut up.
I took a deep, steadying breath.
I would have to kill myself.
I couldn't slit my wrists with a piece of glass- it was too slow, someone could come in. I couldn't set myself on fire, either, if I wanted to get it done now.
I realized the voices weren't yelling at me because for once they agreed with me. They wanted me dead, too.
I cast a doubtful glance out the window. A fall at this height wouldn't kill me, just hurt me. Then I caught sight of a piece of glass that stuck out more than the rest. Then I knew what to do.
As I threw myself down on it, I realized what I was doing and screamed. But my scream was cut short by the glass cutting into my throat, blocking off all oxygen.
And then I died.
~~~~~~~
I have an idea for the sequel- Remy's at the school, looking to rob, and he sees the shattered glass. Checking it out, he finds the body. And then, maybe in the same one, or a third part, it's everyone reflecting on the death.
Loved it? Hated it? Questions? Comments? Suggestions? Rotten tomatoes? Review!
-The Tourniquet
"Because there is no land of tolerance. Not here, nor anywhere else."- Magneto, X-Men: The Movie.