The Eyes

Author's Note:  Well, I am pretty proud of myself for this; not going to lie.  It gave my teacher the chills, and me as well.  I know that there are grammatical errors, but I forgot where they were, so oh well.

“It’s dinner time!” I holler up to Bren and Luca, who are playing Dress Up, in Bren’s Room.  I wait at the bottom of the stairs, a dishcloth in hand, for a response from either of them.  Muffled giggling escapes from upstairs, I know they can hear me,  just as I am about to climb the stairs and go get them I hear a door open and close.  Seconds later, Luca is coming down stairs trying to stifle a laugh.  I get a better look at him, blue eye shadow cascades his eyelids and obnoxious red lipstick is all over the vicinity of his mouth.  Luca’s sister is steps behind laughing like hyena.

 “Nice makeup, Luca,” I say, acting completely oblivious to the fact that he resembles a clown.

 “You like, huh?” Luca says smoothly.

 “Yeah, it really brings out your eyes,” I answer.  Lucas’ littler sister Bren appears right behind him, and smiles.

 “I did it myself, doesn’t Luca look so pretty, Spencer?” Bren is too young and innocent to comprehend sarcasm.  She is only five years old, but with a brother like Luca, she will be the snappiest little spit fire by the time she is seven.

 “He looks amazing, Bren,” I smile at her and her soft blue eyes shine back at me. “Why don’t you go wash your hands, before we have dinner?”  She give a small nod, allowing her angelic blond lock of hair to fall in her face, she tucks away the stray blonde curl and hops off the bottom step.  Luca steps down, attempting to glide by me but I step in front of him.  Wielding only a washcloth, I take the cloth and gently rub above his eyes and over his lips, my intensions clear.   Luca pulls away gently, and heads down the last stair to join his sister in the bathroom.

 I follow Luca to the bathroom, but turn left into the Kitchen.  I grab the two bowls of ‘gourmet’ macaroni and cheese from the counter and set them on the table, along with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for Bren and a grilled cheese sandwich for Luca.

 “Ow!  Luca, why did you do that?”  I overhear Bren’s voice from the bathroom.  I really don’t want to deal with anymore sibling warfare so I head over to the bathroom.  As I peek around the corner, Bren’s eyes meet mine and I see the tears start to well up in her eyes.  My eyes dart to her forearm where there is a bleeding scratch mark, and blood like lava is sliding down to her elbow already.  Without thinking, I pounce past Luca, grab some toilet paper, and start to wrap it around Bren’s arm until I can go upstairs and get a bandage.

 “Luca! Did you do this to Bren?” I ask stiffly.  He is looking down, washing his hands, and acting like I’m not there.  “Luca! Did you do this to Bren?” I demand, with authority in my voice this time around.  He still doesn’t look up, completely unfazed by me, and at Bren’s crying .  I’ve had it up to here with his nonsense!  A million things are going on at once, but everything comes to a halt as Luca snaps his head over to look at me.  All I can do is choke out a gasp.

 Luca’s eyes pierce into mine.  I take them in all at once; his whole eye is black with the exception of a slim white ring in the middle of his eye where his iris should be.  His expression is vacant, but reeks of an eerie sensation.  Without success, I have tried to speak sensible word, but no words can escape my lips.  Bren lets out a sob and my eyes shoot back to her.

 “Spencer, my arm hurts.  I want Mommy!” she pleads in agony

 “Come here, Bren” I say with and urgent tone.  “Luca, are you okay?” No other words come to my mouth as I bring Bren into my arms.  Luca doesn’t reply, but he doesn’t have to because a sickly and  menacing smile floats to his face.  That is my cue to snatch Bren up in my arms and run to the kitchen for the phone.  Just a few steps from the phone receiver mounted to the wall, Luca scales across the wall, snatches the phone, and drops it in the fish tank just a few feet from the receiver.   I recoil and almost slip on the polished floor.  I must be drugged or something, because this just doesn’t happen, little seven year old boys don’t climb along the walls!

 I feel Bren’s tears soak into my shirt, and I know that I have to deal with her gashes; that cut is pretty deep and I wonder if she needs stitches.  That and a million other thoughts are racing through my head, and I can’t think straight.  Think, Spencer! Think!  My feet act before I can sort my thoughts and I am carried up the stairs and to the medicine cabinet.  With Bren still cradled in my arms, I free an arm and fling open the door.  My eyes scan the shelves as I hear a hissing sound and a soft patter coming my way, Luca is coming up the stairs! Where are you, stupid first aid kit?!!  I drop Bren to the bathroom doorway and keep looking.  When Luca is maybe five steps away from the top, my eyes find the first aid kit.  Reflexes like lightning, I grab the kit and pounce into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me.  And I sure as heck don’t forget to lock and double check the door.

 Eyes locked on the door, I back up to meet Bren, who is sitting on the toilet wearing the face of raw fear on her face.

 “Keep your eyes on the door for me, okay?” I ask her, trying to keep a calm façade.   She barely nod, but I know she will.  With fingers delicate as a feather, I unwrap the makeshift bandage that is now stained red. Without any other examination I know that she does indeed need stitches.  Four red slashes mark her arms, and I can’t imagine this petite girl’s pain.  In all honesty, I have not the first clue what to do to clean this up, but I keep my composed façade. “Okay, we need to clean your cuts so I can bandage you up,”  I declare.  “It’ll be okay, I promise,” I reassure her.

 “Is Luca going to be okay,” she coos.  I really don’t have any clue what’s wrong with him, let alone if I know if he is going to be ok.  Lying is not the right thing to do now, but she needs comfort so I nod my head and try to focus on Bren’s arm.  I pick her up off the toilet lid and set her on the step stool in front of the sink, keeping in my how weak her arm is.  The squeaky water handle comforts our dead silence, and the water is a thin stream.  Without glancing up, I slightly grab Bren’s wrist, she flinches but relaxes with my soft touch.  As water cascades onto her wound, the blood washes and I can clearly see how deep they are,  let’s just say they are not shallow.  A glimpse up at Bren’s face makes me uneasy, he face has drained of color.  I shut off the water of hear a hissing and slithery sound outside the door.  The hairs on the back of my neck stand on absolute end, and if I thought there was no color in Bren’s face before, I would think that she was in a black and white movie now.

  “It’ll be fine”  I lie.  Snapping open the first aid kit, I am rewarded  with gauze pads and tape and best of all, Neosporin.  Before too much blood pools in her hollow wounds again, I squeeze a generous amount of Neosporin onto her arm, cover it with gauze, and seal it with something better than a kiss; medical tape.  A taped arm later, the hissing, slithering, and now eerie moans have not stopped.  Bren hugs her knees up to her chest and is rocking back and forth as I pace the bathroom tile.  No brilliant ideas wander to my mind after ten grueling minutes, so I sit next to Bren and gather her fragile body up into my arms.  She has had the worst night, by far, whether it be getting scratched or seeing her big brother being possessed by God knows what.

 Too many tears later the hissing and moaning stops and I hear the presence flow father away.  I wait for another few minutes to make sure that I don’t even hear the slightest noise.  My hands slightly run across Bren’s forehead and her eyes flutter open.  At this exact moment, she looks like the most innocent, fragile, little angel that floated down to Earth.  I pull her up on my hip and make the ‘quiet’ gesture.  She nods in response, allowing those now less angelic lock of hair fall into her eyes; I remember just a little while ago when her strands looked like gold, maybe it’s the lighting in this bathroom but it looks like pieces of straw gone haywire.  I give her a reassuring half smile, and turn the bathroom doorknob.  If only I knew what lied ahead for us, I would never have left the safe haven of the bathroom.

 Trying to be quiet and swift like a ninja, I tiptoe down the stairs, scanning the living room for Luca, no sign of him.  I reach for the from door and turn the knob.  Almost there.  When I go to pull the door open it doesn’t move.  Looking up wildly, I finally notice that the door is locked shut by a nailed piece of plywood.  Where did Luca even get plywood from?  I let a couple choice words slip from my tongue but who is here to care?  My question to myself is answered by a slithering and moaning coming from upstairs.  More words slip from my mouth, but I just run into the kitchen, stealth isn’t my angle anymore.

 As I turn the corner to the garage door, two doors look at me.  Which one is which slips my mind, so I choose quick and bolt down what are the basement stairs, trying to escape the moans and slithering.  I haul Bren and myself off to a corner and nestle myself deep down into the boxes surrounding us.  I don’t dare move let alone breath as the door at the top of the stairs opens allowing light to stream down the steps.  The light is enclosed once again as Luca or whatever is in his body comes down the stairs, closer and closer to me.  I protect Bren’s body with my own.

 In the dim light of the basement’s window I can see Luca scanning the room predatorily.  Not 5 feet away, he stares at me and I’m sure we are caught but I see the slim white rings in his eyes keep scanning the boxes.  I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding very quietly, and relax a little but until I can’t fully relax until I am home in my own bed safe.  Just as Luca is about to climb the stairs again his head stops abruptly and he cocks his head as listening for something.  A breath catches in my throat  and my body tenses up.

 As if Luca can smell fear, he turns on his heel and head straight for us.  When he finally reaches us I let out a defining scream for help, but it only seems to fuel Luca.  He grabs my collar and yanks me out from our box cave.  For a seven year old, Luca is immensely strong; still grasping my collar, he effortlessly flings me into the pile of boxes against the wall.  Boxes rain down on me, and I hear Bren scream.

 “I’m fine, Bren,” I shout.  Pushing up off the floor, I can hear blood pounding in my ears and cold adrenaline seeping into my veins as I stand up.  Besides Luca’s looming eyes, at this angle his silhouette looks like a Damned Angel of Darkness.  He cock his head and a ominous smile accompanies his vacant eyes.  “Why are you doing this, Luca?!” I scream.

 With a voice like poison in my veins, he answers, “I am not Luca!  I am Adrian.  A damned demon who reeks havoc any claims the souls of the innocent.”

 Well, I wasn’t expecting that.  “Just leave us alone!” I shriek.  This only fuels Adrian more, and he swiftly dances over to me.  His hands are around my throat and I can’t do anything about it.  In addition to the strangling, Adrian is shaking the life out of me, choking more efficiently.  I am going to die like this, I know that for certain.


  “Spencer, get up” A familiar voice calls out to me.  I snap open my eyes and automatically reach my hands up to my strangled throat only to find nothing.  My head snaps up and I take in my surrounding all at once; I am in the living room.  “We are back.  The kids are watching TV, and they said that you put out their dinner and laid down for a nap,”  Bren and Luca’s mother’s voice fills my ears.  It was just a dream, a horrid, sick, and twist nightmare.  I reassure myself.  I give her a nod, and try to calm my nerves.  She smiles at me and helps me up off the couch.  It is already 10:00.

 She takes me to the kitchen and reaches into her wallet for my earnings, “Here is what we owe you, and thanks again for watching Bren and Luca on such short notice.” Bren and Luca’s dad chimes in.

 “No problem” I say with a smile.  “I guess I’ll be going”  They both give me a nod and a smile and I’m on my way out the door.  I look for any nail or screw marks on the door or next to the door but noting is there, but smooth wall.  I shake thought out of my head and push open the door and out to my car.  Just as I am about to get in, Luca comes out the front door.

 “Thanks for coming over and playing with me,”  he says with a menacing smile and the vacant stare that fills his black eyes with the slim white rings.