Published April 24, 2013
I would often wonder what the world would look like through two eyes instead of one. Perhaps it would be a happier place. Perhaps it would be a sadder one. Perhaps it would be brighter than what I see now. Perhaps it would be darker. I wonder if the sunset would appear any less beautiful, or if the birth of my daughter, Lily, would be any less magical.
I moved aside my straight black hair, so I could get a better view of the skin that covered were my right eyes should be. The bright red scars burned when I looked at them through the reflection in my dresser mirror. As I moved my fingers across the soft skin, the burning sensation spread. Would this burning ever fade, I couldn’t help but wonder. In my 28 years of life, it never once disappeared only moved. When people stared at me with a look of disgust, it moved to my throat. When people looked at me with pity, it moved to my chest. And when I looked at myself, it burned all over.
I stood from my seat, and examined myself in the mirror. My jet black blazer clung tightly to my body, showing off the figure that I was always so proud of. My husband, Jacob, walked out of the bathroom, looking as dashing as always. He was the only reason that I was able to hold my head high, and not lock myself away like I used to. He was my strength, my rock. He was the reason that despite this scar, I could become the CEO of one of the largest telecommunications corporations in the U.S. He was the reason for the life I have today.
I smiled at him through the mirror. “Well, how do I look?” I asked. He smiled back.
“Stunning as usual. Did you remember to buy the cheerios for Lily?” He asked.
“Yeah,” I continued. “I’m not about to see the side of her that hasn’t had her cheerios for breakfast again.” He laughed heartily.
“Good luck with your meeting today,” he said as he ruffled his hair with a towel.
“Thanks, I’ll be back late today. Bye.”
“See ya later,” he said as I walked out the door. The burgundy wallpaper lining the walls of my house seemed duller that morning. As I walked out of the house, I noticed a slight ruffling in the bushes across the street. I froze as the faces of three small, wide-eyed children emerged. “See, I told you there was an alligator lady living there,” one of them said to the others. The two other children looked stunned, as if they had just seen a ghost. I closed my eye and just kept walking down the path to my car, ignoring their voices in the back of my head. I doubt the world would be more beautiful with two eyes. After all, with two I would never get to see the look on those children’s faces and I would never see the true cruelty behind humanity. In the end, I would be much more blind with two rather than with one.
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139,616 Literary Works • 672,626 Reviews
Hey there. I want to start off by saying that I really enjoyed your short story.
Your MC seems like a tough person. Tough in a good way, I mean. Because of the kind of people that live in this world, there's bound to some that respond negatively toward people different from them. The example in your story here is the children that are outside her house. Her thoughts in the story about people possibly seeing the world differently because of their possession of one or both of their eyes had me thinking. She seems content the way she is, which is awesome. Everyone should be happy about who they are.
The story flowed nicely, and I couldn't spot any errors in spelling/punctuation or grammar, which is great. I think this story was great, and I hope you continue writing!
Hi! I really liked this story. It really shed some light on physical appearance, especially deformities that are unavoidable.
Your main character is very realistic and it's easy for the reader to connect with her. Something I really liked about this was the beginning because I was expecting her to be in that introvert stage of accepting her flaws and hating everyone around her even if all they're trying to do is help. The introduction of the daughter blew that out of the water, though, and so did her mention of her husband. I did find the relationship between the main character and her husband a tad unrealistic, though, because he comes in, compliments her, then leaves. There's no actual development there and, as the reader, we don't get to see how it is that he helped her get over feeling sad about her scar.
However, I do like how you changed the mood in the last paragraph. She isn't happy during the rest of the story, but she isn't decidedly sad or resentful. The altercation between her and the children, and especially the comments from them that are not directed towards the main character really envelope her struggle to love herself.
And the part of this that I loved the most, has to be the last line. If the story is good, but the last line sucks, the story can be ruined. But any story is good if the last line is amazing, and yours was spectacular.
Hello there, I'll be the first to review your short story. Since this is really short compared to the other stories, I'll be going through each paragraph and some lines.
Paragraph 1: Nicely done.
Paragraph 2: I like the way you described the scar.
"I moved aside my straight black hair, so I could get a better view of the skin that covered were my right eyes should be."
I think it should be "where" instead of "were" and make use of the singular form of "eyes".
Paragraph 3: No error.
Last Paragraph: Nice.