Eyes Accursed
folder
Horror/Thriller › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
4
Views:
1,188
Reviews:
5
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Horror/Thriller › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
4
Views:
1,188
Reviews:
5
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Prologue
There was once a girl who went by the name of Arsenia. This is her story. This is no story of some teenaged girl with teenage angst; this is no romance novel; this is no love story. Believe me when I say this story will be nothing you may think it will be. This story is about a teenaged girl, yes, but this is the story of her curse. This IS a story of death; this is a story of blood and guts; this is a story of pain and agony. And it all starts here…
There once was a girl standing in the middle of an opening in a wood, listening to her family fight. The girl was only seven, but she knew the meaning of pain. She often sat and listened by her bedroom window to her father beating her mother for a minor mistake, not making dinner on time for instance, and she was often included in the beatings. Even as she stood outside, hidden within the trees of their small plot of land, she could hear her father slap her mother. She listened, hidden carefully in the trees, trying to make the least amount of noise she possibly could, for she knew that if her father heard her hiding from him he would most likely come after her too. Of course she felt horrible for her mother, but what was she to do?
She turned her back to the house and leaned against a fat tree she knew would block her from view of anyone looking out from the house. She put one of her hands up on her head and grabbed her hair tightly, 'this isn't happening, this isn't happening.' She thought to herself. Sometimes this method would work and she would forget everything that happened soon after it was over, but for times like this one she just had to hold tighter to her hair and close her eyes tight. 'this isn't happening, I won't let this happen, this isn't happening,' she continued thinking, 'when I am old enough, I will pay him back, this isn't happening.'
****************
She was seven then and four years came and past and everything continued, gradually getting worse and worse. Arsenia, of course, continued going to school and she found it her only safe place and stayed well after her last class those days. One day, as her usual routine, she stayed after school in her homeroom teacher's classroom and finished her homework. Five o'clock rolled around and her teacher asked if she would need a ride from home again. Arsenia nodded and gathered her stuff and met the teacher at the classroom door. She kept her long sleeves pulled down over her hands and her long brunette hair in front of her face. She always hid the bruises, she always hid the scratches, the cuts, the burns. The only person that ever knew about these wounds was the only person who cared. Ms. Thatchet, her homeroom teacher.
Arsnia sat in her car, more quiet than usual, and thought of the trouble she might be in when she got home so late. As she looked out her window, the city thinned as she came closer to her farmhouse home. The trees started getting thicker and the sun started its journey down to the slopes. She had an unusual feeling about today. She knew something bad was going to happen and just as they pulled into the driveway she knew that she was right.
Police tape was around her front door and there were police all over the place. Arsenia jumped out of the car in spite of her teachers hushed commands to stay there. She ducked under the tape and dodged the police trying to stop her. She ran as hard as she could to the kitchen where she saw the most police. She ducked under the blocking arms of a detective and slid under the legs of another. Arsenia gasped as she saw the seen. Her mothers mutilated body lay sprawled out on the floor, her insides out and flung across the floor, a bullet hole through her head. Blood was splattered on the walls and the counters.
This scene didn't shock or startle Arsenia, it only saddened her because her mother finally allowed her father to do the worst; then it angered her, because her father had actually done the worst. She stumbled and fell to her mothers side, looking at the mangled body with tear filled eyes, but only for a second was she allowed there, for the detectives had run after her and picked her up by the arms and covered her eyes.
As they were dragging her out of the house, familiar words ran through her head, 'This isn't happening, this isn't happening,' though this time it seemed if the words hadn't come from her mind at all.
****************
Another six years passed, Arsenia was adopted by Ms. Thatchet and life went on. Not quite the same though…
After she had seen her mothers body strewn across the kitchen floor that day, she was drug outside and thrown onto the ground. The detective had tried to ask her who she was and why she was there, but Arsenia only stared at the sky, listening to the comforting voice in the back of her mind, 'this isn't happening, this isn't happening.' The detective shook her and asked her once again who she was and why was she there. Arsenia blinked and stared at the officer, "I live here, and that was my mother." she snarled, and then passed out.
To this day, that detective swears he saw something about her eyes. He said they changed color after she blinked, a bright orange he said, but when the medics checked her as she was lying on the ground, fainted, her eyes had returned to her natural grey-blue color.
There once was a girl standing in the middle of an opening in a wood, listening to her family fight. The girl was only seven, but she knew the meaning of pain. She often sat and listened by her bedroom window to her father beating her mother for a minor mistake, not making dinner on time for instance, and she was often included in the beatings. Even as she stood outside, hidden within the trees of their small plot of land, she could hear her father slap her mother. She listened, hidden carefully in the trees, trying to make the least amount of noise she possibly could, for she knew that if her father heard her hiding from him he would most likely come after her too. Of course she felt horrible for her mother, but what was she to do?
She turned her back to the house and leaned against a fat tree she knew would block her from view of anyone looking out from the house. She put one of her hands up on her head and grabbed her hair tightly, 'this isn't happening, this isn't happening.' She thought to herself. Sometimes this method would work and she would forget everything that happened soon after it was over, but for times like this one she just had to hold tighter to her hair and close her eyes tight. 'this isn't happening, I won't let this happen, this isn't happening,' she continued thinking, 'when I am old enough, I will pay him back, this isn't happening.'
****************
She was seven then and four years came and past and everything continued, gradually getting worse and worse. Arsenia, of course, continued going to school and she found it her only safe place and stayed well after her last class those days. One day, as her usual routine, she stayed after school in her homeroom teacher's classroom and finished her homework. Five o'clock rolled around and her teacher asked if she would need a ride from home again. Arsenia nodded and gathered her stuff and met the teacher at the classroom door. She kept her long sleeves pulled down over her hands and her long brunette hair in front of her face. She always hid the bruises, she always hid the scratches, the cuts, the burns. The only person that ever knew about these wounds was the only person who cared. Ms. Thatchet, her homeroom teacher.
Arsnia sat in her car, more quiet than usual, and thought of the trouble she might be in when she got home so late. As she looked out her window, the city thinned as she came closer to her farmhouse home. The trees started getting thicker and the sun started its journey down to the slopes. She had an unusual feeling about today. She knew something bad was going to happen and just as they pulled into the driveway she knew that she was right.
Police tape was around her front door and there were police all over the place. Arsenia jumped out of the car in spite of her teachers hushed commands to stay there. She ducked under the tape and dodged the police trying to stop her. She ran as hard as she could to the kitchen where she saw the most police. She ducked under the blocking arms of a detective and slid under the legs of another. Arsenia gasped as she saw the seen. Her mothers mutilated body lay sprawled out on the floor, her insides out and flung across the floor, a bullet hole through her head. Blood was splattered on the walls and the counters.
This scene didn't shock or startle Arsenia, it only saddened her because her mother finally allowed her father to do the worst; then it angered her, because her father had actually done the worst. She stumbled and fell to her mothers side, looking at the mangled body with tear filled eyes, but only for a second was she allowed there, for the detectives had run after her and picked her up by the arms and covered her eyes.
As they were dragging her out of the house, familiar words ran through her head, 'This isn't happening, this isn't happening,' though this time it seemed if the words hadn't come from her mind at all.
****************
Another six years passed, Arsenia was adopted by Ms. Thatchet and life went on. Not quite the same though…
After she had seen her mothers body strewn across the kitchen floor that day, she was drug outside and thrown onto the ground. The detective had tried to ask her who she was and why she was there, but Arsenia only stared at the sky, listening to the comforting voice in the back of her mind, 'this isn't happening, this isn't happening.' The detective shook her and asked her once again who she was and why was she there. Arsenia blinked and stared at the officer, "I live here, and that was my mother." she snarled, and then passed out.
To this day, that detective swears he saw something about her eyes. He said they changed color after she blinked, a bright orange he said, but when the medics checked her as she was lying on the ground, fainted, her eyes had returned to her natural grey-blue color.