Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Some of my photography
Here is some of my photography, it includes some Pika Pika and other junk. Enjoy
Eyes, my first short story ever.
Eyes
By: Joey Clinton
Mother was yelling at me, but it was different this time. She was crying. Now that I think about it, it was the first time I had ever seen mother cry. She told me that after this they were going to take me away from her. She kept asking why I did it, but I just starred at her. I wish you could have seen the way the tears fell down her face. They fell the exact same way that the blood had dribbled down HER cheeks. Oh wait! You don't know about HER do you? Well let me start from the beginning.
Ever since I was little I used to see things, things that Mother told me weren't really there. Horrible, terrible things that nobody should have to see , and I was only a youngling. Sometimes I really believed that they were there, but mothers never lie, they are not allowed to. This comforted me a little, but it still didn't get rid of the fact that I saw it.
It always happened around people, and in lit areas too. The scariest part was that I was never able to tell who it was going to happen with. One time when I went out for ice-cream the ice-cream man grew fangs. He pulled a girl who was getting ice-cream inside of his truck, and blood splattered the windows. I screamed and then the world flashed and the girl was back outside of the ice-cream truck getting a chocolate bar while happy music blared out of the speakers. I still remember exactly how the song went. I have a really good memory.
Well these visions occurred multiple times before I couldn't stand it anymore. Mother became worried when I spent all my time in my room, with the lights off, where those horrible, terrible sights wouldn't obstruct my vision. So one day Mother told me she was going to take me to the hospital. I asked her if I was sick, but she just told me to get in the car. I remember exactly what she was wearing, and what her hair looked like. See, I told you I have a really good memory.
This doctors office wasn't like any of the other doctors offices that I had ever been to before. There were no happy pictures on the wall of things like clowns and puppies. It was also cold, and I did not like the doctor. I tried to answer as many of the questions as I could but they kept coming out of him like a fountain. He made me recall all the experiences when I saw those horrible, terrible things. He made me remember the Ice-cream man eating the girl, he made me remember my teacher shoving chalk into her nose and ears, and worst of all he made me remember the time that mother melted into the pile of black all over the kitchen floor. I cried multiple times. Normally I would have been happy that the doctor wasn't laughing like most people would have, but the look he stared at me with was even worse.
I was so relieved when the doctor finally said that we were allowed to leave. When I left, the doctor didn't present me with a sticker or even a pencil. Instead he told my mother that I had a serious condition. He said what it was. This was the only time that I had ever heard that word, and I forgot it. I still pinch myself in the arm everyday for forgetting the word. The pinches have left a permanent scar. It's shaped like a moon. I really enjoy it. Sometimes if I stare at it, it glows. This is one of the only things I have ever appreciated my eyes for.
The doctor gave my mom pills and told me to take them twice everyday. I only took them for the first day. I knew it wouldn't work. That doctor didn't know anything! He wasn't even able to give me a sticker and a pencil. Well the same day that I took the medicine I went to the carnival with my school. The teacher let us all ride the roller coaster once. I was more excited than I had ever remembered, and unfortunately my memory hardly ever fails me. The ride started and the car slowly went up the hill. It made a soothing click-click-click that almost made me fall asleep, but before I was allowed to enjoy it long enough we were at the top of the hill, which made me even happier. I was seated all the way in the back car! There were two other cars between the other kids and me. I had gotten on first and rushed to the back seat. The rest of the kids got on after me. As they passed by they would say something along the lines of “Eew!” or “Gross!”. I didn't see or smell anything gross but I respected there opinion.
Oh yes, back to the ride. We started going down the hill and my heart was beating rapidly with joy! I think it was probably the fasted it had ever gone before. We came around a sharp turn, and then around another. I had never felt such a delightful mix of fear and joy, I liked it. Then in front of us stood what I had anticipated the most. The loop-de-loop!
We started going up and around, oh the feeling was just wonderful., but when we got to the very top a horrible, terrible vision started. The safety bar that kept all the kids in their seat raised back up. Some of the kids tied to hold on, but the plastic was slippery and eventually they slipped onto the track below. Did I mention that this didn't happen to my seat? Their bodies landed on the track with a sickening crunch in positions that bodies aren't supposed to be able to accomplish. My memory serves as such a curse. My memory and those eyes.
Well, I thought that the vision was over, and the world would flash back to normal but the vision blared on. The car continued going around the loop and I realized that the car was headed right towards my fellow students. I screamed when the car hit the first body. Did I mention that this was all happening in slow motion? The first girl I hit was Jeanie Tylers. The wheel of the car went right through her head as blood slowly flew threw the air from the long gash the car made. I tried to cover my eyes but my hands wouldn't move. Well thats not true, I don't think I actually had hands. Thats just silly, of course I had hands, but I don't think that my eyes wanted to let me see them. One by one in a horrible mass of blood and gore the car slashed it's way though all of my classmates. Blood had sprayed all over my face and over my nice new white shirt that Mother had bought me, even though she insisted that I would get it dirty.
When the car had finished through James Lincoln's left leg my vision finally flashed. We were back in the loading area and I was wailing like a baby. The teacher was shaking me, saying everything was going to be just fine. When I finally realized that everything was back to normal I just got out of the car and just stared at her. Some of the children laughed and giggled and it made the tears on my face sting like acid. The teacher left some parents in charge of the other kids and took me home. When I sat down in the car I looked down at my shirt.
It was still drenched in blood still drenched in blood.
I gave a little shriek and the teacher looked back at me. She asked what was the matter. She was practically looking right at it yet she didn't seem to notice. Or maybe she was just mocking me. I told her it was nothing. That was the first time I had ever lied. I still remember that. My memory doesn't want me to forget. She must have been mocking me. I decided that I hated that teacher.
When she drove away I whispered “I hate you”.
Mother was still at work so took a lighter from the top drawer in the kitchen and went to the backyard. I burnt my white shirt. I burnt it even though I knew that my memory would still never let me forget. It hardly ever forgets anything.
When mother came home she asked me where my new shirt was. I told her that I didn't know. This was my second lie.
After that day I avoided ever looking at people. Ever. I always kept my eyes on the ground, and when I got home I would run up to my room and spend all my time in there until I was forced to return to school.
Mother bought me a goldfish. I named him Ronald. Me and Ronald talked often he was mostly just a good listener though. One day Ronald and I compared lives. I was so free, but at the same time trapped by my own eyes. Ronald on the other hand, he really was trapped, but so naive, and happy. Free. This made me jealous. I envied Ronald's life more than my own.
I stopped feeding Ronald after that day.
You're probably confused right about now. At the begging of my tale I mentioned HER, but you haven't heard of HER since. Well, I have not forgotten. I never forget. Hardly ever. Well, that Her comes in soon enough, but I had to give you the basics you see, so you will understand what I did. I'm not a bad person, my eyes just confuse me sometimes.
One day Mother told me that we were moving. With my face buried in the ground, staring at the carpet I simply asked “Why?' She wouldn't tell me but I will bet you anything it was because of me.
I didn't like my school. It made your insides feel cold. Ironically, the school was named Sunshine Elementary. The only thing I liked about that school was their splendid walls. They looked terrible. The paint was an ugly orange. Oh but the smell! It was unlike anything I had ever smelled before. I cannot explain it. Hey, I know what your thinking. You think that I forgot the smell, but I didn't! I have only forgotten something once! Sometimes I would put my nose on the wall and just smell the walls over and over. When I did this the kids around me would laugh and cackle, but the smell acted as a barrier to the acid spit launching itself from their twisted faces.
Ok, there was something else I liked about that school. It was HER. She was the prettiest girl in the school, and she was in the same class as me! See I told you I didn't forget about HER. I will never forget HER. She had silky flowing blond hair, and had skin that looked more delicate than a shiny perfect bubble. She was the only girl I knew who was more beautiful than Mother. She was the only reason I would ever take my eyes out of the ground. Oh HER.
Did I forget to mention her eyes? They were her most prominent feature. They were blue, but not normal blue. They were blue like the ocean, majestic and wild. They also sparkled, as if somebody had once sprayed her in the face with glitter while her eyes were still open.
The Teacher placed HER all the way across the room from me. I remember the exact location of her desk. I haven't forgotten. I used to stare at her all day. Entranced by those eyes. I looked with such longing, and hatred for my own eyes. Those horrid brown dirt eyes that were placed in my head. Those sick eyes that showed me so many horrible, terrible things. Those eyes that wanted to hurt me. But they had never distorted her. At least that is what I had believed.
The first day of our third week at my new house started out like any other. I got up, ate some toast, hopped on the bus and sat down in the back seat as kids pelted me with wadded up paper. But I kept my eyes on the ground. I couldn't look at their faces, distorted or not. When I got to school I sat in my seat in the back of the room. My bus always ran a little late so school had already started. I finished my work quickly and sloppily. I hardly even looked at the questions. There are more important things in this world than pencils and paper. Like HER. I began my daily investigation over her. I examined her ever day. I wanted to see if she had changed. I wanted to see those eyes. She had her hair in a different style that day. I remember it. I remember that I like it. I remember lots of things.
I thought this was going to be a perfect day until the teacher directed the children's eyes to the back of the room. I looked at HER, HER looked at me. Our eyes met.
Her eyes were blood red.
I cursed my eyes, I cursed my eyes over and over. I remember many times that day after school holding a knife right to those eyes! I could end it all. I would never have to see any of those horrible, terrible things ever again. But I just couldn't do it. I had to see HER eyes again. They were the most incredible thing I had ever beheld. I couldn't stand the thought of never seeing them again. So my brain hatched a plan.
I'm going to take them from her. I'm going to take them, and keep them for myself. I'm going to take them, and make them my eyes. I'm going to take them, and never see anything horrible again.
But I had to be patient, I had to wait. I could not rush this. It had to be done right the first time, or I would never have the chance to take them ever again. So I waited for the right time.
The longer I waited the less I liked HER. HER hair seemed less nice and Mother became the most beautiful woman in my life again. I hated her more and more. I could hardly look at her anymore. I only looked to try to catch a glimpse of those eyes, but it was a risk you see because I never knew which eyes I would see. Those wonderful eyes I longed for so greatly, or the eyes that my eyes wanted me to see. Those blood red eyes. My memory won't let me forget either of those eyes, but it was still so much wonderful to see her true eyes in real life, instead of as a video or picture playing in my head.
Finally the time was right.
The teacher assigned us a science project. I honestly don't even know what it was about. All I know was that I was paired up with HER. She looked sad when she found out I was her partner. She didn't like it when I stared at her. Sometimes she would tell the teacher, who would tell me to stop. But I never did.
I purposely procrastinated at school so we would not finish it on time. My plan was working perfectly. With only one day left our project was nowhere near being done. We need a place to finish it. HER said that she would finish it herself, but I insisted that we finish it at my house and she finally agreed.
The time was coming quickly.
I remember the exact time she came to my house. I had been watching the clock. It was 12:26pm and 34 seconds had passed when the doorbell had rang. It was HER. She asked if my mom was home and I told her that she was working downstairs. That was my third lie. Well, sort of. Mother was downstairs, but she was asleep. I showed her the way to my room. I followed behind her and grabbed my baseball bat in a sneaky fashion so she didn't see. I showed her to my room and let her in first. Than I shut and locked the door behind me. When HER heard the lock click she spun around but my bat was already sailing through the air, and before she had completed HER spin the bat had already connected with her head, and she fell over.
HER eyes were redder than ever.
I worked quickly now. I ran into the kitchen and grabbed a knife, the same knife I had held to my own eyes so many times. I did not run back into my room however, I walked. You should never run with pointy objects.
Delicately I set to work. I inserted the knife in her eye and gently pulled it out. I accidentally cut it on the side a little bit and I began to cry. Blood was pouring down HER face. I looked down at the eye in my hand and it was no longer red. It was the hypnotizing blue that I longed for so long for. I set to work on the other eye, but then I heard a knock on the door. Mothers voice called through and said “Is everything ok in there?” This made me cry even harder which made Mother worry. “Whats going on!?” She pounded on the door, but now I ignored her. I finished pulling out her other eye. I didn't even damage this one.
It was time for me to show Mother.
I unlocked the door. Mother was standing there looking very worried. I looked Mother right in the eye. I remember that it was the first time in a very long time that I had done that. I didn't care if I saw something terrible because it was all going to be over soon, when Mother helped me put in my brand new eyes! I held out the eyes and said “Look Mother! These can be my new eyes. Now I can be a normal child.”
Then Mother started to cry.
Mother started yelling at me, but it was different this time. She was crying. Now that I think about it, it was the first time I had ever seen mother cry. She told me that after this they were going to take me away from her. She kept asking why I did it, but I just starred at her. I wish you could have seen the way the tears fell down her face. They fell the exact same way that the blood had dribbled down HER cheeks. She ran to the phone and called somebody, she kept asking them to help her.
People came and took me away from Mother.
They took me to a doctor. I begged him to put my new eyeballs, but when I opened my hands they weren't there anymore. I yelled at the top of my lungs asking where they had taken my eyes. I told them that I needed them otherwise I would keep seeing terrible, horrible things, but they didn't care. I'm not even sure if they were listening.
This made me angry. I do not like to be ignored. I told the doctor that if he wasn't going to put new eyes in I was just going to scratch my own out. I really meant it too. I would have rather been blind than not have those eyes. I reached up for my eyes but cold strong hands grabbed me. I thrashed around screaming that I didn't want to see any more horrible, terrible things. The world went dark.
They locked me in a room.
They have me locked in a room now. The room is well lit, and it is quite soft. I have a bed and a chair. It is quite comfortable. Sometimes I close my eyes and walk around my room. I know where everything is. My memory can serve as my eyes. All I have to do for fun is to stare at the moon on my arm. Hah! I bet you forgot about the moon didn't you, but I didn't. You probably knew I wouldn't.
Horrible, terrible things often find their way into my room. I cannot move my hands though you see, they are tied up, so there is no way for me to protect myself. I just scream and thrash, and then the horrible things come closer.
Then there is blackness.
I would much appreciate a friend, do you think there is anyway that you can visit me? In my room it is only me and those horrible terrible things. I will be a good friend I promise. One good thing about my memory is I will never forget anything you tell me. You will never have to repeat anything you say. I can lay on my bed while you sit on the chair. Or you can lay on the bed if you prefer. We can even both lay on the bed together.
But please remember; if I start to scream and thrash, it is not because of you, it is because of my eyes, who like to show horrible things to me. Also, on your way in could you please look for HER eyes, those eyes.... my eyes. I miss them terribly.
One more thing. Please bring a knife.
By: Joey Clinton
Mother was yelling at me, but it was different this time. She was crying. Now that I think about it, it was the first time I had ever seen mother cry. She told me that after this they were going to take me away from her. She kept asking why I did it, but I just starred at her. I wish you could have seen the way the tears fell down her face. They fell the exact same way that the blood had dribbled down HER cheeks. Oh wait! You don't know about HER do you? Well let me start from the beginning.
Ever since I was little I used to see things, things that Mother told me weren't really there. Horrible, terrible things that nobody should have to see , and I was only a youngling. Sometimes I really believed that they were there, but mothers never lie, they are not allowed to. This comforted me a little, but it still didn't get rid of the fact that I saw it.
It always happened around people, and in lit areas too. The scariest part was that I was never able to tell who it was going to happen with. One time when I went out for ice-cream the ice-cream man grew fangs. He pulled a girl who was getting ice-cream inside of his truck, and blood splattered the windows. I screamed and then the world flashed and the girl was back outside of the ice-cream truck getting a chocolate bar while happy music blared out of the speakers. I still remember exactly how the song went. I have a really good memory.
Well these visions occurred multiple times before I couldn't stand it anymore. Mother became worried when I spent all my time in my room, with the lights off, where those horrible, terrible sights wouldn't obstruct my vision. So one day Mother told me she was going to take me to the hospital. I asked her if I was sick, but she just told me to get in the car. I remember exactly what she was wearing, and what her hair looked like. See, I told you I have a really good memory.
This doctors office wasn't like any of the other doctors offices that I had ever been to before. There were no happy pictures on the wall of things like clowns and puppies. It was also cold, and I did not like the doctor. I tried to answer as many of the questions as I could but they kept coming out of him like a fountain. He made me recall all the experiences when I saw those horrible, terrible things. He made me remember the Ice-cream man eating the girl, he made me remember my teacher shoving chalk into her nose and ears, and worst of all he made me remember the time that mother melted into the pile of black all over the kitchen floor. I cried multiple times. Normally I would have been happy that the doctor wasn't laughing like most people would have, but the look he stared at me with was even worse.
I was so relieved when the doctor finally said that we were allowed to leave. When I left, the doctor didn't present me with a sticker or even a pencil. Instead he told my mother that I had a serious condition. He said what it was. This was the only time that I had ever heard that word, and I forgot it. I still pinch myself in the arm everyday for forgetting the word. The pinches have left a permanent scar. It's shaped like a moon. I really enjoy it. Sometimes if I stare at it, it glows. This is one of the only things I have ever appreciated my eyes for.
The doctor gave my mom pills and told me to take them twice everyday. I only took them for the first day. I knew it wouldn't work. That doctor didn't know anything! He wasn't even able to give me a sticker and a pencil. Well the same day that I took the medicine I went to the carnival with my school. The teacher let us all ride the roller coaster once. I was more excited than I had ever remembered, and unfortunately my memory hardly ever fails me. The ride started and the car slowly went up the hill. It made a soothing click-click-click that almost made me fall asleep, but before I was allowed to enjoy it long enough we were at the top of the hill, which made me even happier. I was seated all the way in the back car! There were two other cars between the other kids and me. I had gotten on first and rushed to the back seat. The rest of the kids got on after me. As they passed by they would say something along the lines of “Eew!” or “Gross!”. I didn't see or smell anything gross but I respected there opinion.
Oh yes, back to the ride. We started going down the hill and my heart was beating rapidly with joy! I think it was probably the fasted it had ever gone before. We came around a sharp turn, and then around another. I had never felt such a delightful mix of fear and joy, I liked it. Then in front of us stood what I had anticipated the most. The loop-de-loop!
We started going up and around, oh the feeling was just wonderful., but when we got to the very top a horrible, terrible vision started. The safety bar that kept all the kids in their seat raised back up. Some of the kids tied to hold on, but the plastic was slippery and eventually they slipped onto the track below. Did I mention that this didn't happen to my seat? Their bodies landed on the track with a sickening crunch in positions that bodies aren't supposed to be able to accomplish. My memory serves as such a curse. My memory and those eyes.
Well, I thought that the vision was over, and the world would flash back to normal but the vision blared on. The car continued going around the loop and I realized that the car was headed right towards my fellow students. I screamed when the car hit the first body. Did I mention that this was all happening in slow motion? The first girl I hit was Jeanie Tylers. The wheel of the car went right through her head as blood slowly flew threw the air from the long gash the car made. I tried to cover my eyes but my hands wouldn't move. Well thats not true, I don't think I actually had hands. Thats just silly, of course I had hands, but I don't think that my eyes wanted to let me see them. One by one in a horrible mass of blood and gore the car slashed it's way though all of my classmates. Blood had sprayed all over my face and over my nice new white shirt that Mother had bought me, even though she insisted that I would get it dirty.
When the car had finished through James Lincoln's left leg my vision finally flashed. We were back in the loading area and I was wailing like a baby. The teacher was shaking me, saying everything was going to be just fine. When I finally realized that everything was back to normal I just got out of the car and just stared at her. Some of the children laughed and giggled and it made the tears on my face sting like acid. The teacher left some parents in charge of the other kids and took me home. When I sat down in the car I looked down at my shirt.
It was still drenched in blood still drenched in blood.
I gave a little shriek and the teacher looked back at me. She asked what was the matter. She was practically looking right at it yet she didn't seem to notice. Or maybe she was just mocking me. I told her it was nothing. That was the first time I had ever lied. I still remember that. My memory doesn't want me to forget. She must have been mocking me. I decided that I hated that teacher.
When she drove away I whispered “I hate you”.
Mother was still at work so took a lighter from the top drawer in the kitchen and went to the backyard. I burnt my white shirt. I burnt it even though I knew that my memory would still never let me forget. It hardly ever forgets anything.
When mother came home she asked me where my new shirt was. I told her that I didn't know. This was my second lie.
After that day I avoided ever looking at people. Ever. I always kept my eyes on the ground, and when I got home I would run up to my room and spend all my time in there until I was forced to return to school.
Mother bought me a goldfish. I named him Ronald. Me and Ronald talked often he was mostly just a good listener though. One day Ronald and I compared lives. I was so free, but at the same time trapped by my own eyes. Ronald on the other hand, he really was trapped, but so naive, and happy. Free. This made me jealous. I envied Ronald's life more than my own.
I stopped feeding Ronald after that day.
You're probably confused right about now. At the begging of my tale I mentioned HER, but you haven't heard of HER since. Well, I have not forgotten. I never forget. Hardly ever. Well, that Her comes in soon enough, but I had to give you the basics you see, so you will understand what I did. I'm not a bad person, my eyes just confuse me sometimes.
One day Mother told me that we were moving. With my face buried in the ground, staring at the carpet I simply asked “Why?' She wouldn't tell me but I will bet you anything it was because of me.
I didn't like my school. It made your insides feel cold. Ironically, the school was named Sunshine Elementary. The only thing I liked about that school was their splendid walls. They looked terrible. The paint was an ugly orange. Oh but the smell! It was unlike anything I had ever smelled before. I cannot explain it. Hey, I know what your thinking. You think that I forgot the smell, but I didn't! I have only forgotten something once! Sometimes I would put my nose on the wall and just smell the walls over and over. When I did this the kids around me would laugh and cackle, but the smell acted as a barrier to the acid spit launching itself from their twisted faces.
Ok, there was something else I liked about that school. It was HER. She was the prettiest girl in the school, and she was in the same class as me! See I told you I didn't forget about HER. I will never forget HER. She had silky flowing blond hair, and had skin that looked more delicate than a shiny perfect bubble. She was the only girl I knew who was more beautiful than Mother. She was the only reason I would ever take my eyes out of the ground. Oh HER.
Did I forget to mention her eyes? They were her most prominent feature. They were blue, but not normal blue. They were blue like the ocean, majestic and wild. They also sparkled, as if somebody had once sprayed her in the face with glitter while her eyes were still open.
The Teacher placed HER all the way across the room from me. I remember the exact location of her desk. I haven't forgotten. I used to stare at her all day. Entranced by those eyes. I looked with such longing, and hatred for my own eyes. Those horrid brown dirt eyes that were placed in my head. Those sick eyes that showed me so many horrible, terrible things. Those eyes that wanted to hurt me. But they had never distorted her. At least that is what I had believed.
The first day of our third week at my new house started out like any other. I got up, ate some toast, hopped on the bus and sat down in the back seat as kids pelted me with wadded up paper. But I kept my eyes on the ground. I couldn't look at their faces, distorted or not. When I got to school I sat in my seat in the back of the room. My bus always ran a little late so school had already started. I finished my work quickly and sloppily. I hardly even looked at the questions. There are more important things in this world than pencils and paper. Like HER. I began my daily investigation over her. I examined her ever day. I wanted to see if she had changed. I wanted to see those eyes. She had her hair in a different style that day. I remember it. I remember that I like it. I remember lots of things.
I thought this was going to be a perfect day until the teacher directed the children's eyes to the back of the room. I looked at HER, HER looked at me. Our eyes met.
Her eyes were blood red.
I cursed my eyes, I cursed my eyes over and over. I remember many times that day after school holding a knife right to those eyes! I could end it all. I would never have to see any of those horrible, terrible things ever again. But I just couldn't do it. I had to see HER eyes again. They were the most incredible thing I had ever beheld. I couldn't stand the thought of never seeing them again. So my brain hatched a plan.
I'm going to take them from her. I'm going to take them, and keep them for myself. I'm going to take them, and make them my eyes. I'm going to take them, and never see anything horrible again.
But I had to be patient, I had to wait. I could not rush this. It had to be done right the first time, or I would never have the chance to take them ever again. So I waited for the right time.
The longer I waited the less I liked HER. HER hair seemed less nice and Mother became the most beautiful woman in my life again. I hated her more and more. I could hardly look at her anymore. I only looked to try to catch a glimpse of those eyes, but it was a risk you see because I never knew which eyes I would see. Those wonderful eyes I longed for so greatly, or the eyes that my eyes wanted me to see. Those blood red eyes. My memory won't let me forget either of those eyes, but it was still so much wonderful to see her true eyes in real life, instead of as a video or picture playing in my head.
Finally the time was right.
The teacher assigned us a science project. I honestly don't even know what it was about. All I know was that I was paired up with HER. She looked sad when she found out I was her partner. She didn't like it when I stared at her. Sometimes she would tell the teacher, who would tell me to stop. But I never did.
I purposely procrastinated at school so we would not finish it on time. My plan was working perfectly. With only one day left our project was nowhere near being done. We need a place to finish it. HER said that she would finish it herself, but I insisted that we finish it at my house and she finally agreed.
The time was coming quickly.
I remember the exact time she came to my house. I had been watching the clock. It was 12:26pm and 34 seconds had passed when the doorbell had rang. It was HER. She asked if my mom was home and I told her that she was working downstairs. That was my third lie. Well, sort of. Mother was downstairs, but she was asleep. I showed her the way to my room. I followed behind her and grabbed my baseball bat in a sneaky fashion so she didn't see. I showed her to my room and let her in first. Than I shut and locked the door behind me. When HER heard the lock click she spun around but my bat was already sailing through the air, and before she had completed HER spin the bat had already connected with her head, and she fell over.
HER eyes were redder than ever.
I worked quickly now. I ran into the kitchen and grabbed a knife, the same knife I had held to my own eyes so many times. I did not run back into my room however, I walked. You should never run with pointy objects.
Delicately I set to work. I inserted the knife in her eye and gently pulled it out. I accidentally cut it on the side a little bit and I began to cry. Blood was pouring down HER face. I looked down at the eye in my hand and it was no longer red. It was the hypnotizing blue that I longed for so long for. I set to work on the other eye, but then I heard a knock on the door. Mothers voice called through and said “Is everything ok in there?” This made me cry even harder which made Mother worry. “Whats going on!?” She pounded on the door, but now I ignored her. I finished pulling out her other eye. I didn't even damage this one.
It was time for me to show Mother.
I unlocked the door. Mother was standing there looking very worried. I looked Mother right in the eye. I remember that it was the first time in a very long time that I had done that. I didn't care if I saw something terrible because it was all going to be over soon, when Mother helped me put in my brand new eyes! I held out the eyes and said “Look Mother! These can be my new eyes. Now I can be a normal child.”
Then Mother started to cry.
Mother started yelling at me, but it was different this time. She was crying. Now that I think about it, it was the first time I had ever seen mother cry. She told me that after this they were going to take me away from her. She kept asking why I did it, but I just starred at her. I wish you could have seen the way the tears fell down her face. They fell the exact same way that the blood had dribbled down HER cheeks. She ran to the phone and called somebody, she kept asking them to help her.
People came and took me away from Mother.
They took me to a doctor. I begged him to put my new eyeballs, but when I opened my hands they weren't there anymore. I yelled at the top of my lungs asking where they had taken my eyes. I told them that I needed them otherwise I would keep seeing terrible, horrible things, but they didn't care. I'm not even sure if they were listening.
This made me angry. I do not like to be ignored. I told the doctor that if he wasn't going to put new eyes in I was just going to scratch my own out. I really meant it too. I would have rather been blind than not have those eyes. I reached up for my eyes but cold strong hands grabbed me. I thrashed around screaming that I didn't want to see any more horrible, terrible things. The world went dark.
They locked me in a room.
They have me locked in a room now. The room is well lit, and it is quite soft. I have a bed and a chair. It is quite comfortable. Sometimes I close my eyes and walk around my room. I know where everything is. My memory can serve as my eyes. All I have to do for fun is to stare at the moon on my arm. Hah! I bet you forgot about the moon didn't you, but I didn't. You probably knew I wouldn't.
Horrible, terrible things often find their way into my room. I cannot move my hands though you see, they are tied up, so there is no way for me to protect myself. I just scream and thrash, and then the horrible things come closer.
Then there is blackness.
I would much appreciate a friend, do you think there is anyway that you can visit me? In my room it is only me and those horrible terrible things. I will be a good friend I promise. One good thing about my memory is I will never forget anything you tell me. You will never have to repeat anything you say. I can lay on my bed while you sit on the chair. Or you can lay on the bed if you prefer. We can even both lay on the bed together.
But please remember; if I start to scream and thrash, it is not because of you, it is because of my eyes, who like to show horrible things to me. Also, on your way in could you please look for HER eyes, those eyes.... my eyes. I miss them terribly.
One more thing. Please bring a knife.
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