The OutsideTheLines
Feature of the Month

For December, 2000

"What Colour Are My Eyes?"

By Loki's Rose

DISCLAIMER: Rogue is Marvel's, not mine, and is being borrowed without permission, but this isn't for profit so please don't sue.

RATING: PG. There appears to be angst.

FEEDBACK: Anything. Please. (If you spot any factual errors or gross mischaracterisations, pretty please let me know so I can fix them.)

ARCHIVING: Just ask.

What colour are my eyes?


Green is jealousy.

Green is envy.

It fills my world, colours my life.

All the things I cannot ever have, but want so dearly.

And the child had eyes

Such colours!

And I wondered if they saw a different world to mine.

A world of happy faces.

A world without fear.

A world of innocence.

And I – Ah wanted that.

For me.

To be other than I am.

To reach out.

And never worry at all.

And Ah – I knew I could take it.

Ah had the power to take it, just for a while.

And the power was mine, it had never been anyone else’s.

It wasn’t borrowed or stolen.

It belonged to me.

The only thing that’s mine. Even my eyes aren’t my own, I can’t tell if they’re my own.

But the power is mine.

But I can’t use it.

Not without causing pain and sorrow and fear.

It used not to matter.

Ah used not to care.

But I - Ah couldn’t help myself.

Just once, I thought it could be different.

I thought it would be all right.

To see the world through different coloured eyes.

To lose control.

To take the things I want, as my genes were made to do.

My power, which is mine.

Mine only.

The child looked up at me with wide eyes.

So beautiful, like jewels.

I wanted to reach out. I reached.

To borrow them only, such lovely coloured eyes.

To wear them.

Just for a little while.

To see the world through different coloured eyes.

It doesn’t work.

It never did.

The voice of memories echoes through my head.

Thoughts that are not mine, eyes that are not mine.

And the child’s eyes flutter closed, as I watch with eyes that are not mine.

And the child falls. Comatose.

And I want to catch her, so she doesn’t hit the ground, but my hands are bare, and she may never wake up.

The child might never wake and Ah still cannot touch.

However many eyes I look out of, this power stays. Ah can be anyone I want, but I am still always me. Ah run away. Ah run home. But Ah can’t escape myself.

And it isn’t fair, and I – Ah smash the mirror that shows me eyes that are not truly mine.

Powers… that are not mine smash the mirror, shatter the fragile glass, rip through the wallpaper behind it, break through the plaster, punch clear through the brickwork to the world outside with such force that the fragments of masonry burst outwards like a bomb.

I… Ah could send them into orbit if Ah tried. But it’s nothing to be proud of, it isn’t my strength, my power.

I took it. I stole it.

It isn’t mine.

Someone else’s powers.

Someone else’s eyes.

What colour are my eyes?

What colour are mah eyes?


The End

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"What Colour Are My Eyes?"
©Loki's Rose
December, 2000

©David D. Amaya

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