She didn't lash out or retaliate at the gesture. If anything, she seemed to get smaller and more defensive, curling inward as she sank down to the tile floor, back against the wall.
"Non, non, non, no, no," she whispered, carefully covering her face with her hands so they acted like blinders, her gaze on the floor.
Years, what was years ago? Where was she years ago? She couldn't visualize one place. She saw different rooms, different houses, but she couldn't have lived in all of them. Some were clearer than others, some more familiar. Some seemed to force themselves vividly to the fore of her mind but were alien to her, she couldn't place them. More troublesome was, she couldn't place herself in any of them, she couldn't see herself. She pressed her fingertips harder against her scalp.
If she looked in that mirror again, she didn't know who would be there. There was something Gatekeeper had taught her about visualizing oneself whole in the landscape of the universe, it was supposed to be both humbling, grounding, and reassuring to one's sense of self, and just thinking about it in that moment made her think, just for a second, that she'd gone blind.
She didn't know that she was panting and trying to push herself so far into the wall that she'd fall through it not your power not your life, or who it was who was speaking to her. In a sudden swell of deep and irrational fear, it occurred to her that the last time her head had been this crowded and her vision this dark was Genosha. Her bare feet slipped a little against the tile as she tried to find purchase to wedge herself farther back into the corner.
She wasn't there couldn't be there but she didn't know where she was. So she might have been. But only mutants went to Genosha, and she wasn't one of those. But she had to be, she'd been on the team for years, now, years, and the right side, the good team. The good guys.
She was one of the good ones. Wasn't she?
She couldn't say. She didn't make much noise, in fact. Out loud, she merely whimpered.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2010-06-01 06:04 pm (UTC)"Non, non, non, no, no," she whispered, carefully covering her face with her hands so they acted like blinders, her gaze on the floor.
Years, what was years ago? Where was she years ago? She couldn't visualize one place. She saw different rooms, different houses, but she couldn't have lived in all of them. Some were clearer than others, some more familiar. Some seemed to force themselves vividly to the fore of her mind but were alien to her, she couldn't place them. More troublesome was, she couldn't place herself in any of them, she couldn't see herself. She pressed her fingertips harder against her scalp.
If she looked in that mirror again, she didn't know who would be there. There was something Gatekeeper had taught her about visualizing oneself whole in the landscape of the universe, it was supposed to be both humbling, grounding, and reassuring to one's sense of self, and just thinking about it in that moment made her think, just for a second, that she'd gone blind.
She didn't know that she was panting and trying to push herself so far into the wall that she'd fall through it not your power not your life, or who it was who was speaking to her. In a sudden swell of deep and irrational fear, it occurred to her that the last time her head had been this crowded and her vision this dark was Genosha. Her bare feet slipped a little against the tile as she tried to find purchase to wedge herself farther back into the corner.
She wasn't there couldn't be there but she didn't know where she was. So she might have been. But only mutants went to Genosha, and she wasn't one of those. But she had to be, she'd been on the team for years, now, years, and the right side, the good team. The good guys.
She was one of the good ones. Wasn't she?
She couldn't say. She didn't make much noise, in fact. Out loud, she merely whimpered.