Blind Eyes

Chapter Six

I wake up to the sound of someone banging on my door. I sit upright in my bed, confused, but then, I remember.

I remember walking home in a daze, stunned and in a bewildered stupor.

I remember stumbling into my house, my mind feeling like it had been emptied.

I remember running Will's knife under water from the kitchen tap until no spot of blood remained.

I remember collapsing on my bed and falling into a deep sleep in a matter of seconds.

This morning, I feel like I am in a trance. I feel so unfamiliar with my life. From the other side of my door, my father keeps on knocking, and calls out my name. I walk to my door and open it.

"Do you know where your mother is?" he asks, panicked. "She wasn't here this morning when I woke up."

My father is panicked because my mother never leaves the house without letting him know, especially this early in the morning. When she wakes up early, the first thing she always does is make breakfast for us, and if she has to leave the house when we are asleep, she always leaves a note.

I know my face must be completely drained of colour, but I can't help it. I shake my head slowly, because I don't know if I am able to form words right now.

My father looks at me curiously. "Are you sure she didn't say anything to you?"

I think back to Will, the way he could paralyze me with terror, how he told me to keep my mouth shut, and I try to regain my composure.

"No, she didn't. She would tell you if she was going somewhere; we don't talk to each other. You know that."

He nods. "Yeah," he murmurs. "It's just unusual for her to leave. She probably had some errand to do, although I don't know why she got up so early. I'll try not to worry too much, and hopefully she'll be back. soon." He pauses and looks at the ground. He does not usually speak this much in such a short period of time. "Do you have work today?"

Again, I just nod my head. He knows that I have work today, but he says it as a way of ending the conversation, I'm sure. It's not that my father does not like talking to me, it's that he does not like talking much in general, making conversations feel slightly uncomfortable at times.

"Okay then, I'll leave you to get ready," he says, relieved to have wrapped up our small discussion.

He exits my room and closes the door behind him. When he is gone, I let out a shaky sigh. When I sit down on my bed, I look at myself in the mirror and am shocked at what I see. I look so frightened, so scared. My shoulder is bloodied and purple from where the brick hit it, and it hurts desperately when I try to move my arm. I know that I cannot go out into town, and to work, looking like this.

I walk right up to the mirror until my face is almost touching it, and I stare at myself, willing myself to look normal. I must stand there for at least ten minutes, and tears start to fall down my cheeks, again. I hate crying. But, eventually, I stop crying and manage to make myself look dull and devoid of anything. I have to keep it this way.

Wiping away the last of my tears, I tell myself that I will not cry. I cried because of my mother and the horrible way she died, but also because I was scared. But crying because I am scared of what Will might make me do is a sign of weakness, and weakness is the thing I loathed most about my mother.

I don't want to become like her, end up like her.

I finally get dressed and bathed, and leave my house to go to work. I will have to find some food on the way, as my mother isn't here anymore to prepare any food. As I walk to work, I find myself dreading the moment I have to come back to the house. By then, my father will be fully alarmed, and I'm sure he will have notified the mayor that my mother is missing. Then I will be questioned, understandably, and there will be a search for my mother. I doubt they will find her - I have a feeling that Will is too smart for that - but I know that the questions won't stop until the town has found an answer. I am anxious because I do not know how well I can lie, and I cannot afford to raise suspicions of my father, or of the town. Perhaps the best way to deceive the others is to imagine Will watching me as I am questioned, his scary eyes boring into my skull. Maybe that will be make me be convincing enough. I do wonder, though, what Will might do if I fail, if I give everything away.