Hazel Eyes

I stood under the blazing water. My sensitive skin was in frenzy as I tormented it for hours in the small space filled with blinding steam that is my bathroom. I scraped layers after layers of it every day by scrubbing my entire body vehemently with a soap bar. By the weeks of torture, my skin was now familiar with the whole process every night. Which was a good thing, my skin was now numb.

A piercing scream filled my ears as the memories flooded my mind. His arms, his hands, his fingers, his lips, his sinister smile and his touch. Soon I realised the scream was my own. Hot, thick tears ran down my eyes. Heavy sobs left my knees wobbling and buckling. I gave up on the whole institution of standing and crawled to the corner of my shower and let misery have me.

As much as I wanted, I could never get the images out of my mind, I could never forget the feel of him. I could never forget the light brown orbs that stared down at me with evil intent. Those hazel eyes haunted me day and night. I would wake up screaming in bed because of those hazel eyes. I would be afraid to step out of the safety of my home because of those hazel eyes. I had lost everything because of those hazel eyes. My life was ruined because of those hazel eyes.

It was the 8th of December. The chilly winter air made me pull my purple sweater closer to my body. I was dressed in simple black jeans and a white button down as I made quick steps to reach home. The unknown street was eerily silent. I had been out late with friends and was looking forward to the warmth of my bed. I was well aware of the late time and the yet to face livid behaviour of my parents. But, I'd rather have the incensed glares than walk on the lonely streets any longer. My wildest fear came alive when I heard light footsteps behind me. Immediately I quicken my pace further and so did he. On a brave impulse, I turned around to look if there really was a reason for my palpitations. I wished it would be a random street dog.

I wished too late. The man behind me was well-built and appeared quite attractive and young. He wore a leather jacket over his white shirt and worn out black jeans. He looked at my body appraisingly and a taunting smile covered his face. I wiped my head back and began to run. Heavy footsteps resonated around me and suddenly a pair of hard hands caught me and held me in a vice like grip.

"Help!" I cried, but no one was there to help me. I struggled in vain to free myself, but there was no stopping him. He turned me to face him. A pair of hazel eyes stared into my black ones. His pupils were diluted with lust, a menacing smile displayed on his chapped lips. His rough hands held me tight, almost painfully against his chest. His odour was pungent and overpowering. I was paralyzed with fear. Every warning from my mother, every headline from the news channel, and every cruel act I had ever heard of blared loud and clear in my head.

"Let me go!" I screamed with all my might. All he did was laugh and slap me hard across the face. His strong arms carried to an alien place away from the streets against my futile struggles. He ripped away the fabric that protected me. He ripped away my dignity. He ripped away my life, with a smile on his face the whole time.

A slight movement in my belly brought me back to reality. Harsh sobs took over me; my ribs collided together in protest. Every part of my body shook under the burning water. I cried my heart and soul out with the smouldering vapour around me.

It had been nearly a month since the ghastly night and I still remember every moment of it. I placed my hand on the small and almost non-existent bump growing in my stomach. The news had spread out fast, not about the unjust done to me but, about the fact that I was pregnant.

Everywhere I go, I would hear whispers and remarks about my promiscuity. I would be named names. A harlot. A slut. A disgrace. My own friends kept their distance without knowing the real truth. All eyes would look me with potent disgust.

My father, a police officer, would stay till dawn at his work place unable to come home and look me in the eye. He couldn’t bear the fact that he failed in protecting his only daughter. He suffered knowing that this was a mistake he’d repent for with every breath.

My mother, an ordinary housewife, as every other mother, blamed herself for the excessive crime done to me. She looked at me with pity and misfortune. Her snide remarks and “I told you so” would often replace her habitual sympathy.

In the short sixteen years I‘ve lived, I had never left so alone. Even with the presence of the life growing in me, I felt empty. Everyone I knew left me stranded in the time of my need.

Every moment I lived with constant fear and dread. I was afraid. Afraid to face society. Afraid to let anyone in. Afraid to relive the past. Afraid to think about the future. Afraid to let the innocent life in me to be brought to this cruel world.

In every way, I was aware that I had been done wrong. The depth of the crime did weigh in on me but, I had no intentions in finding the sexual predator that must have ruined many naive and blameless girls’ lives. It would bring me no joy as the act was already done. I was already harmed.

One criminal less would bring no change in the brutal, vindictive and malicious world we live in. Even if the authorities hanged him or served him the most horrible retribution of all time, it wouldn’t satisfy me. It wouldn’t make up for a fraction of what I’ve felt in the past month. It wouldn’t give me back the perfect life I had before he laid his eyes on me. I wouldn’t be able to get rid of the marks he left behind on my skin. I wouldn’t be given justice.

But, most importantly it wouldn’t take back the unwanted life within me. As much as I hated the ingenuous child, I had to have it. I couldn’t bring myself to terminate the life of something so helpless. I would rather live with the constant reminder of the misdeed done to me. I would have the molester’s child. I would nurture him and bring him up with the right values and save him from following the steps of his father. I would do everything in my power to give him a future and I would do it alone.

However, I could only hope that I was that brave. In the last few experiences of my being, every ounce of courage and confidence was stripped from me. I was felt hollow with the biggest responsibility weighing me down. I was forced to stand up and fight but, I couldn’t bring myself to struggle anymore.

If it was only me, I would have carried on. Found a way to bear the disgustful glances and dodge the spiteful interpretation. Yet the little bump said otherwise. I had to learn to fend for two. I had to protect not only mine but, the life of another. A responsibility I would happily take up under different circumstances. Circumstances that involved a true father, not a molester, it would make more sense to me if I could have a beautiful baby with the man I loved when everything in life was figured out. When I had a job, house and freedom of my own.

That would be a life I would never have.

I will never face reality, even if I wanted to. My life would now be a series of “What if’s”.

What if I never went out that night?

What if he hadn’t found me?

What if help had come?

What if I ended my life?

What if?

I wouldn’t do it. I wouldn’t bring a spotless baby into a world so twisted to only be corrupted. I wouldn’t be able to bear if my baby would ever go through the pain that I had to. I wouldn’t be able to take up the responsibility. I wouldn’t be able to protect the innocent from the ruthless and unforgiving human race. I was a coward.

I got up shakily from the bathroom floor and turned off the deadly shower knob. A towel was securely wrapped around my body as I walked across the hallway into my parent’s room. The room, as expected was empty. I pulled out the forbidden drawer and took the metallic object in my hand.

My eyelids fluttered close as I reinterpreted my jumbled thoughts.

A pair of hazel eyes appeared in the darkness. The hazel eyes that I had grown used to but, always feared. A monstrous face slowly formed around them till my hands trembled. It changed and morphed into some new. Surrounding the haunting eyes was now a delicate membrane of a flawless face of a tiny soul that rested peacefully in my arms.

I opened my eyes and placed the gun to my temple and prayed.

Prayed that my baby and I would reborn in a better world.

And then, I pulled the trigger.