The Eyes

8NK7QTGQY8****I couldn’t wait until Friday to post this one. This is my attempt at a story less than 500 words. Hope you like it!!********

She never imagined she would see another soul like her again. In fact, she never thought she would see anything again. After a childhood car accident, she lost her eyesight. Her other senses tried to make up for it, but she never felt the same.

Grown-ups would always say she was lucky to have survived and lived. Was she, though? Was she lucky to be alive and have to hear her parents fight over the accident every night? To feel the anger vibrat the air when her mother confronted her father for cheating? She never felt lucky.

Ah, but to see with eyes again. Her heart beat with delight watching the light of the sun dance through the gauzy curtain in her mother’s bedroom. Or it would, if she were still alive.

Death was not what she pictured. She had imagined her soul flying through the clouds to Heaven or plunging down into the lake of fire her grandmother always talked about. But, nope. She was just hanging out in her mother’s room, watching that sad woman’s body decompose.

It just laid there on the neatly made bed, hold a phone that had 911 displayed on the screen. The signal in the house never was that great, being out in the country and all.

Rural America. She had spent most of her life out there as a strange little girl, who was an even stranger young lady. Her mother’s voice echoed in her ears. She looked around for her. Nope. She was still alone.

In the pit of her non-existent stomach, she felt something stir. A fear of sorts. Her life was gone, along with her mother’s, but she was the one to stuck around. That nagging, wretched twinge of loneliness rested upon her head and started laughing. Stop it! Stop it! I am happy now. I AM happy now.

“Of course you are, child,” a faint voice said to her. She looked and saw a figure with a slanted smile, standing by the old oak tree. “It’s time to go, Penny,” the voice said without the figure’s lips moving. The Reaper had come for her.


Author: samanthafn82

I am forever creating worlds within my mind and place them on paper when I cannot take it anymore. My muse is the vibrant life around me, from the icy blue sky above to the humming of Earth beneath my feet. I live to tell a great story and amuse everyone around me.

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