Hazel
Eyes
By:
Harrison Chiu
“Honey,
would you mind coming down for dinner? I’ve made your favorite, spaghetti!” mom
called from the kitchen.
“Coming
Mom, just give me a second!” I replied. I paused my Spotify playlist before sliding
down the bannister, nearly avoiding my little brother, Allie.
“Watch
out, Allie!” I called, laughing a little bit as I bounded down the remaining
steps.
“You
watch out,” he muttered “you got in my way.”
“Come
on, Allie. Cheer up!” I smiled and tousled his hair as we walked into the
dining room. My dad sat at the table dressed in a collared shirt, his stern
expression offset by the crinkle besides his mouth struggling not to break into
a smile.
“Now,
now, Elizabeth, don’t pick on your brother too much,” he chided. Meanwhile, mom
set the table, heaping generous helpings of pasta onto each of our plates. As
we all settled down, my brother spoke again.
“These
meatballs look like eyeballs,” Allie remarked as he meticulously cut the
sauce-stained meatballs into small pieces. Mom and dad glanced up, slightly
concerned. Allie always had been a little… off. He tended to keep to himself,
not playing with other kids his age. All he did was look at old dad’s old medical
books. Though, to be fully truthful, he had always wanted to be an
ophthalmologist. Although his anti-social and quiet nature had caused concern for
my parents, other parents had called him “gifted” and “focused,” remarking on
his incredible academics and drive to succeed. It was almost as if he could
separate himself from the world into his own thoughts, disregarding all else.
“Alan
dear, don’t say stuff like that at the dinner table,” mom frowned.
“Yeah,
that’s gross.” I added on, smiling a bit. My little brother was a little
strange, but he joked around in his own way.
“Elizabeth,
you have such lovely hazel eyes,” he remarked as he turned towards me, his dark
eyes curiously vacant, giving the sensation of a deep hole.
“Um…
thanks?” I laughed.
“Your
brother is right, though,” mother added on, “it’s such a shame that no boys
have appreciated those eyes yet.”
Blushing
furiously, I stared down at my food. Mom always gave small insinuating hints
about getting a boyfriend. So what if I wanted to focus on my academics and
sports more? Well, it wasn’t just that, I suppose… Despite my typically
confident and optimistic demeanor, I became a nervous wreck around guys that I
liked: blushing, stuttering, shaking, you know… Bolting down my food, I put my
plate in the dishwasher before scurrying up the stairs. I swung my door open,
before collapsing on my bed. Ten o’clock already... maybe I’ll take a nap
before working…
A
sudden crash awakened me. Glancing at my alarm clock, I sighed. Who in the
world was awake at 4:44 AM? Sweeping aside the covers, I sat up and opened the
door.
“Um…
is everything alright?” I whispered to the hallway. I heard nothing in
response… except… what was that? Padding gently down the hall, I looked around.
A faint glow emanated from Allie’s room. “Allie, are you alright? Why are you
still up playing games? You have school tomorrow.” I hissed towards his room.
Hearing no response, I gently pushed open the door.
Allie
sat rocking back and forth on the floor, sobbing silently.
“Allie,
what’s wrong?” I asked. His head swiveled towards me, as if just noticing my
presence. Upon seeing me, he brightened up. “Allie, what’s wrong?” I repeated.
“Something
broke, but it is okay. I can replace it.”
“What
broke?” Glancing behind him, I saw wet remains of… something that used to be
alive, glistening in the light of the crescent moon. A small puddle surrounded
the… thing, while a shattered glass jar lay next to it. “Allie, what is that…?”
I slowly read out the label.
Mr. Robert Hoover. Deceased: 21
January 2015. Right eye and optical nerve.
Property of Robert Wood Johnson
University.
“Allie,
what are you doing with that…?” I remarked.
His
eyes glittered darkly, twin pieces of obsidian.
“Elizabeth,
you have such beautiful eyes.”
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