Empty Eyes: A Short Story

Empty Eyes

There's a story under her skin, writhing, twisting to the edges of her fingers. It wants out, but the time isn't right, She's busy. She has something important to attend to, kneeling in front of her. A man.

Her name is Vi, formerly known as Avianna Yorke and she holds a gun to a man's head. He doesn't flinch, doesn't try to move at all, except his lips. They are always moving, always talking.

The story, it craves freedom, it crawls from underneath her fingernails, beckoning those who will listen close. It will force them to understand why she is going to shoot this man. She doesn't want them to understand.

Evan, his name is Evan. Was. His name was Evan. And this is what they must understand.

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"What the hell happened back there?"

"Sarah G really wanted to get her face slammed into a wall," Vi explained over the chatter of kids.

Jack raised an eyebrow, sliding around a student. "You should become a bard one day. I heard they made a ton of money."

"In the sixteen hundreds maybe." The fluorescent lights bathed the concrete hallway in artificial white light-- making it more like a prison in her mind.

"So be a writer. Basically the same thing."

"I'm about as eloquent as a bull in a china shop," she retorted, nearly body slamming another kid as she moved past.

Jack chuckled, grinning broadly at her. He gave her a light shove as a goodbye as he disappeared into his next class. Except Jack never understood how strong he was-- Vi was sent barreling into another student, sending both of them tumbling to the floor in a flurry of textbooks and flailing limbs. She hit the floor at an angle, her elbow, meant to slow her fall, smashed into the boy's stomach. Vi disregarded the blast of swearing from the boy.

Body aching from the impact, Vi clambered to her feet, picking up her Math Analysis textbook. A quick glance showed her the boy she had been forced into was a couple inches taller than her, his ash brown hair unkempt. She didn't recognize him, but he was clearly in her grade. The schedule Vi had caught a snapshot of had classes only a senior could enroll in.

"Sorry about that," she said, reaching out a helping hand. "My friend shoved me, the bastard."

The boy glared at her and climbed to his feet, ignoring her hand. He didn't spare her a second glance and slipped away into the bustling hallway.

Teenagers. Vi shook her head and continued to her next class, her thoughts more concerned about the upcoming test she was about to endure.

"Cat! Wait up!" she called out after third hour ended, her friend flashing by the door.

Vi scrambled out the classroom, shrugging on her backpack, running to catch up. Cat stood a few doors down, her dark brown hair pulled back. A few strands escaped, swatted away by a stray hand.

With a wide, white toothed grin, Cat took off, her locks flying out behind her as she dodged through the corridor. Vi accepted Cat's silent challenge and bolted after the cartoon-loving girl. Down the hallway, take a hard right, blast past the kids exchanging drugs, Vi followed. Her backpack almost whipped a kid in the face, but she moved to the left in time. She ignored a teacher yelling at her to slow down. Weaving through the last remnants of kids, Vi caught up to Cat, running side by side. Feet in sync, both girls strained to reach the entrance first.

"AHA!" Vi shouted, beating Cat by less than a second.

Deep, ragged breaths and mussed hair from the two friends greeted Jack in the parking lot. Vi gave the black-haired boy a mischievous grin, wiggling her eyebrows at him as they approached. Jack waited beside his rundown faded green truck, rust creeping along the metal above the front wheels and the bumper.