Your Perfect Eyes

I have nothing to say about this... to say anything would ruin it... gah, I've said too much!!

 

 

     My heart was a stone in my chest as I reached down to smooth a honey curl from her forehead. Molly's soft breathing, as she lay cradled in my lap with her feet pressed up against my thigh, contrasted starkly with the metronome of the ticking clock. Treacle sunshine streamed in though the glass of the window from where hover flies buzzed and the air was heady with honeysuckle. I stared up at the crowded mantelpiece and the twisted wax run-offs from your scented candles that pushed through huddled portraits marking other times. I watched as the light played across the pictures surfaces, cutting across our smiling faces. That old picture of us: me with that silly hairstyle and you in that awful hat; a treasured memory that you couldn't part with, no matter how daft. Molly at the reservoir, her nose freckled and her pink cheeks dimpled, the small gap between her teeth showing as she grinned. And, my favourite photograph of you, the one I took outside the caravan: you're smiling and your hair, dark as the earth, is tumbling down your shoulders. Your eyes are glimmering like wet polished jade. Your eyes. Your perfect eyes.

 

     They were the first things that drew me to you that hazy summer afternoon at University. I had seen you laughing with your boyfriend as an errant breeze pushed your hair across your face. You raised a hand to draw it away, unveiling them. It was then that you saw me, your smile still playing lightly across your lips, before turning away. Your skirt caught slightly in the breath of the wind and I saw your legs as you twisted to press the material against you. I caught your eye and you smiled again. I knew then that we had something special... a spark.

 

     The wedding came six months later. I stood staring giddily into your eyes, my pulse racing and my mouth parched. I remember your parents reactions, forced smiles poorly hiding disappointment. You were too young to marry; you would never achieve your doctorate. You were throwing your life away, all that you had worked for and for what? A musician. But you never gave up, you said that any situation was workable and you were right. You worked hard, you studied and you were giving, loyal and trusting. What man could ask for more?

     You were amazing. I used to call you amazing Grace and loved it when you laughed.

     Two years later you gave us Molly. I recall my sudden trepidation as you stood in the hallway that day, your hand at your mouth, your eyes shining. The white stick in your free hand held aloft, the pink stripe almost vibrant. A baby? I swept you into my arms and we both cried. You were so happy, I was terrified!

     Again you showed me that anything was possible.

 

     I curled one of Molly's locks around my index finger and pressed my lips to her crown, she was sleepy for it had been a long day. A single tear squeezed itself out from under her lashes and tracked down her cheek. I brushed it aside softly and sighed. Beneath those lashes she had your eyes, flawless but for faint copper flecks that glistened as she drifted in the worlds between sleep and wakefulness. I stared again to your eyes on the mantel still marvelling in their sea green lustre.

 

     Your perfect eyes.

 

     That's why I had to take them. I watch them now as they float in the formaldehyde jar between the photos, your perfect eyes. I'm so sorry I ruptured one as I took it out but my hands were shaking.

     You have to understand Grace, it all but killed me when you married him; my f*****g brother. And me, appointed his best man; a vulgar euphemism for second place.

     Molly is awake now. I think she is still frightened by her mummy. Yawning blood-black holes seeing everything but nothing and her mouth stretched into a silent scream. You werent so quiet an hour ago.

     I smooth Molly's hair again and turn her towards me, away from mummy's scary eyes. Shhh sweetheart, I whisper as the steel tip of the screwdriver grazes the softness of her pink cheek.

 

     Her perfect eyes, I just cant bear her perfect eyes.

 

 

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Author's Note

This bears no resembelence to any girls whose eyes I may have gouged out due to requited love... ;-)

Reviews

[A. Dade]

God WTF I thought this was some sort of beautiful tribute to a woman who you were madly in love with.. I was oooing and aaahhhing and silently falling in love with the narrator of this story...

Then I got gobsmacked...

You should go to contests and find the one about stories that "punch the reader" at the end. ;) Good job.

[PoetiKKApoztle]

Your A great writer!!! Didnt Expect that one!!!

[Carla (trying to make e..]

That had me going ooohhh and ahhhh how sweet.....and then the perfect Howie ending, threw my hand up to my mouth going oh my god....you do it to me everytime....love it....

carla

[dawnsue541]

Ewwww! Shock therapy for your reader? How delightful!

[A.j. Joiner]

Jeezus! That definately took me by surprise. Loved the story. Loved the ending. Is there a continuation to it or does it stop there?

[Solst Rapture]

Jesus!!!!!!!! You hit me in the face with a hammer, and now you have two bodies to do something with. I was too busy dribbling at your diction and writing style that I didn't see it coming. It was like being in the mind of a schizophrenic. I am a fan though.

Thank you and bloody well done.

[Obsidianbutterfly]

Oh my...Very good job.

[Sunny]

Wonderful. But do you kill the child or blind her in the end or do you want to leave that up to the reader? Love the twisty.

[Amy Hamilton]

Fantastic... absolutely. I loved it, i knew something was coming but i didn't expect that. You really did stick to the theme well, great writing!

[Abi Smith]

awesome twist howie... you definately have delved into a psychotic mind in this one....

it was perfect... :) love it!

[{Angel Redd}[Formerly A..]

How psychotic! love it! The softness at the beginning, and how it continued all the way to the terrifying ending. not predictable at all. Wow.