Status: There will be a total of four chapters.
The Left Eye
Prelude
Those words my father always told to me as a child still rang in my head like a clock tower bell. I never listened to him to that much. Never did to anyone. Just the idea of authority sickened me. I never had an obligation to listen to anybody, so if there was no reason to heed one of my parents' illegitimate rants I searched for any reason I could to drown them out. Rarely did I listen. Except for once. And not a thing special or out of the ordinary was about this one moment. I tended to do crazy things when I was teetering on the brink of total boredom. And listening to my parents was one of those things, as crazy as it sounds.
Now, I'm glad I listened. Not that it helped any, but I'm glad I listened. But at the same time I could kick myself for not heeding any of their other adages in the past. I could still quote that phrase word by infectious word.
"Those people you see in the movies, those sociopaths turned psychotic killers, I know it's hard to believe. But a man's capacity for evil goes far deeper than anything you can show on the screen."
At least I think that was how it went anyways. I'm not sure at the moment right now. That night, I would sleep with that. And the next night, and the many nights to come as well. Not a day passed I didn't give it thought. He always boasted about this theory he had. About evil only being an illusion, a concept humans themselves invented. It was no theory. Corruption ages and matures with humans, and is as old as humanity itself, and we both knew that for a fact.
Listen to me, getting all nostalgic. Who am I kidding? My father was a cold, heartless prick. It pleasured me greatly when the accident happened, and I was finally rid of him. No amount of sage-like advice or remorseful words could paint over what he had done to our family. Whenever he tried to apologize, I would only laugh, and wait in my room in silence until my mother threatened to call the local police again to get him out of her sight.
I remember, how petrified I was, especially of his face. His sickly-toothed grin whose enamel that smelt of hard liquor and violence, his yellow and quaking eyes, and his brooding stare that crossed my face like heat. I never did like that vein in his left eye. His right looked just like any other, but if you looked closely you could see a crisp throbbing to his left. It would move and slither like a snake. It even angered me to so much as think about it.
I was scared of pretty much anything I guess. After all, at the ripe old age of 10, it was hard not to let go of the leash a little and allow your imagination to roam free and explore. But a young mind is only a seed, and should be treated with the utmost care. I was never aware of that at the time. Unaware of the darker realms of life that I had yet to lift their veils and show themselves. A person's will to take advantage of one other. How one could throw his own brother under the bus for a meager profit, or even for another's clothes off of their back. They always said it was dangerous to let a kid stray too far from his home. This kid never listened. Nor did he care. And now it looks like I'm finally paying the consequences for it.
Now, I'm glad I listened. Not that it helped any, but I'm glad I listened. But at the same time I could kick myself for not heeding any of their other adages in the past. I could still quote that phrase word by infectious word.
"Those people you see in the movies, those sociopaths turned psychotic killers, I know it's hard to believe. But a man's capacity for evil goes far deeper than anything you can show on the screen."
At least I think that was how it went anyways. I'm not sure at the moment right now. That night, I would sleep with that. And the next night, and the many nights to come as well. Not a day passed I didn't give it thought. He always boasted about this theory he had. About evil only being an illusion, a concept humans themselves invented. It was no theory. Corruption ages and matures with humans, and is as old as humanity itself, and we both knew that for a fact.
Listen to me, getting all nostalgic. Who am I kidding? My father was a cold, heartless prick. It pleasured me greatly when the accident happened, and I was finally rid of him. No amount of sage-like advice or remorseful words could paint over what he had done to our family. Whenever he tried to apologize, I would only laugh, and wait in my room in silence until my mother threatened to call the local police again to get him out of her sight.
I remember, how petrified I was, especially of his face. His sickly-toothed grin whose enamel that smelt of hard liquor and violence, his yellow and quaking eyes, and his brooding stare that crossed my face like heat. I never did like that vein in his left eye. His right looked just like any other, but if you looked closely you could see a crisp throbbing to his left. It would move and slither like a snake. It even angered me to so much as think about it.
I was scared of pretty much anything I guess. After all, at the ripe old age of 10, it was hard not to let go of the leash a little and allow your imagination to roam free and explore. But a young mind is only a seed, and should be treated with the utmost care. I was never aware of that at the time. Unaware of the darker realms of life that I had yet to lift their veils and show themselves. A person's will to take advantage of one other. How one could throw his own brother under the bus for a meager profit, or even for another's clothes off of their back. They always said it was dangerous to let a kid stray too far from his home. This kid never listened. Nor did he care. And now it looks like I'm finally paying the consequences for it.