Eyes and the Stories Behind Them
Because I love eyes, when I see a neat one that doesn't belong on one of my book boards, I need a place for it. I also have a tendency to write stories for…
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She saw the world in colors we couldn't even imagine, and in shapes we couldn't comprehend. Perhaps that was why she was so misunderstand, or maybe it was simply because she only saw the beauty in this life, and could never comprehend the bad. Either way, when the accident happened, she was alone, and no one would ever hear her last words, or know exactly what she saw that night that caused her heart to completely stop.
She awoke to total and complete white surrounding her, and she thought that she'd died and was in purgatory or something of the likes, but she never imagined it'd be so cold... And then she remembered everything, from the fight to the avalanche, in startling detail, and she froze, both physically and mentally, and the cold set in on her body and mind.
He felt fear well up inside of him and turned away from her, stumbling over to the looking pool. What he saw in his reflection was more terrifying than what she had said to him even; the centers of his irises just around his pupils were glowing with an intense, spreading orange, and he knew deep inside him that the other was pushing outward, trying desperately to take control. And he realized then that it would come down to that; desperation. Who wanted his body more? Himself, or the other?
She had read The Princess Bride before, and had enjoyed it simply for its dripping satire and unfathomably dry and poignant humor, but one thing about the book that strangely stuck out to her then as she gazed up at the night sky in regretful reminiscing was the phrase "to the pain". That was how far they'd gone with her in their abuse and corruption of her life. They had gone to the pain, to the point where the only thing that could have made life bearable was death.