Disclaimer: Marvel owns Carol Danvers, and the X-Men. Viva Marvel.

Fear of Ghosts
by Polka Dot

Gasping, spitting, teeth grinding, she slashed at the blood stained windows in her heart. The sound of crackling under her heels spurred her on to leave this place. White walls faded to black and black walls held a stench that made the dark foreboding and cold. She pressed on wrapping herself in this dreary place like a newborn babe would try to escape back into the womb.

If the screams that surrounded her had a voice, she wouldn't turn her head or dare to deviate from her chosen path.

'This is hell and here I am.'

The sign said something about abandoning hope, if you dared to enter. Hope was a foreign concept to her, so that wasn't a problem. Every now and then she wondered if she ever cried for her lost pride. If she cried she didn't remember it. If she screamed she didn't hear it. If she laughed or smiled, she didn't enjoy it. Sticky was the only emotion she clung to. Sticky was her mind and her heart. Sticky was her life.

She couldn't forget the past and she couldn't forgive. She couldn't scrape away the black memories or the hatred. Bleak was her future, though she didn't fear it. It walked in front of her and she could never catch up to it.

If she was a child she might try to change things, might try to escape. To be brave enough to pull the razor across her throat required the stupidity of an innocent. The naivity to believe that there was anything beyond this dead, cold world. The past, the future, death, they were one and the same.

She felt bitter and acrid, like acid ran through her veins. Not painful, just poinsonous. She could feel the pieces of flesh that fell from her bones everyday. That's one of the reasons she kept walking.

Something made its way across her vision. It was a man, maybe. It didn't matter they all brought the same. The ones that hurt her and the ones that helped her. In the end they all burned. She burned, they burned and there was no rest for the wicked or the weary.

The black never blinded like the light. The cold burned like the fire though. So she didn't touch anything ever. She kept her hands close to her body and her head down. It was better if she never saw their faces. Sometimes she thought she could reason with them, but they were unreasonable. She had learned that opening her mouth was always a mistake. She knew that it was better if she bit her tongue and swallowed her words.

If God was out there then he couldn't or wouldn't save her. The wicked people always liked to hurt the innocent ones so whatever happened, whatever hell she found herself in she always kept one thing in mind.

"Never pray."

"Never pray."

Logan tilted his head. "Did you say something darlin'?" He was sure he heard her mumble something, but it was so quiet that even his senstive hearing couldn't decipher the words.

"Huh? Oh sorry sugah, just letting my mind wander. It was nothing." Rogue left the room quickily. That had been a mistake. He had looked at her with those eyes that feigned concern. Crinkled blue eyes that spoke to her of death. She ran upstairs to her room to shove Carol back into the black corner of her mind.




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