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.

[TL Boehm]

NOOOOOOO! Not the BABBBY'S EYYYYYYEEES. Oh Im gonna have nightmares now for sure. Actually I had a feeling something bad was gonna happen with those eyes but only because I am 'looking' for it today. If I had just stumbled on this - I wouldn't have caught where the story was going. It was creepy - graphic - everything a horror story should be with a wonderful macabre twist at the end. I am happily repulsed - so much I have to read it again.

[A.j. Dru]

Wow! Super Creepy! I like your choice in language and the eerie tone, it really creates an atmosphere. Sick little twist there at the end, too. I am impressed. Great work!

[Chantal-lise Mirman]

OK, the hair on my arms is standing right on end... and that's after reading the story for the second time to see if I'd missed a clue! Chilling. I had to do that when I saw the Sixth Sense, too - I went right back into the theater to see it a second time to see how I could have possibly missed seeing that ending coming! Excellent job of lulling us into a warm, fuzzy sense of false security! I really like the fact that although the ending is really horrific and grisly, you maintain the undercurrent of tenderness and (distorted) love. I also like the idea of perfection causing pain. The only clue I could find (in hindsight) was when you used "us" to describe whose gift the child was. I assumed the hints at sadness were for the Death of Grace, but it didn't occur to me in any way, shape or form that the narrator could have also been the perpetrator. You ARE sneaky.

I read some of the other comments and disagree with the confusion as to the wedding and pregnancy. I think that is simply because after the fact, it is difficult to overcome the assumptions already made. Some of the narrator's observations definitely could be taken in at least two ways. For examle, "anything was possible" turned out to be all too true, and something the anti-hero takes all too seriously!

You really are exceptionally talented (and a little scary). Thanks for the great story!

[Zephyr]

I agree with Aj Brown in saying that the consistency switch in the story is rather confusing. Was it that she cheated on his brother with him, and got pregnant or something? I don't quite understand that point.

However, aside from that confusing point, this was a wonderful horror piece, effortlessly terrifying. At first it seemed almost like a romance story, but then I got to the last few paragraphs. The ending was absolutely chilling. I particularly like the implications of what he might also do to his daughter. Although that one item was kind of perplexing in the way it was written, overall this was a magnificent piece. I loved this.

[Aj Brown]

A chilling, easy to read piece. The ending was nicely executed and the sudden change from loving memories to her eyes being on the mantle piece was seamless.

My only concerns, which may be just me, is the fact that your story sounds like Grace married him, but it turns out that she married his brother. I'm sure all of that was intentional but my question comes with when she is pregnant and he sweeps her into his arms. If she is married to his brother, wouldn't he be the one there when she says she's pregnant? Again, that is probably just me looking at a consistency stand point, but it did make me wonder.

All-in-all, flash pieces are hard to pull off, with a beginning, middle and end. You pulled the story off well and I really thought the writing was crisp.

[C.m.v]

You know what I like most about this? The fact that you fit so much of a story into a short piece. You have to tell me how you do this. It is a major stumbling block for me, so I admire a writer that can do it. And you do it very well. This is, again, like another story or two of yours that I've read, so interesting and well written...I want to read more. I want to know more. I think this story as well could be made into a longer novel. Or, you should compile a bunch and publish them in a short stories book. They're very good! I like how you mislead the reader in the beginning and then make us go: "What?! No way!" at the end. It proves as a writer, you've done your job, and dont it well. very impressive!

[Goodbyeguilt]

Mwahahahahaha

That is f*****g evil dude.

I loved the way you wrote the end line...it's all Acid Bath Murders style.
(Not a laughing subject - don't be offended)

Well done, good poem.

GBG - Leah

[Eric Roach]

This was right up my alley. Don't apologize to anyone for the subject matter in this. It's awesome.

[Tessa]

Excellent tension and atmosphere, really like the descriptive passges. Freaky enough to haunt my dreams... great stuff.