Her Eyes

“I don’t want to do this,” I told my mother, my voice thick. She was brushing through my hair with a comb. It got stuck in a knot, she pulled at it roughly. I bite my lip to stop the groan of pain in my throat. She started to twist pieces of hair and pin them.

“You have to.” She said. Her voice was commanding, and I knew she would not budge. Not now, not ever. If I pursued it anymore she would get angry. I wouldn’t want that. “Besides,” she continued. There was another harsh tug at my hair before she pinned the last piece. She brought up the mirror to my face. “Wouldn’t you like to meet the man that would be marrying this beautiful girl?” My eyes flickered to and from the mirror. I hated mirrors. They showed my reflection; me.

I wondered if I, too, would curse myself if I looked into it for a long time.

My hair fell around my face in dark waves, pieces were pinned back in twists. I pushed my bangs over my right eye — the bad eye — the eye no one must see. My mother drew back the mirror and I felt my body ease. “Are you ready?” She asked. She started to get up, I did too, straightening my dress.

“No.” I replied.

She smiled, “Good.”

Today was a slow day. Only a few men came to the main room. Most of them with a mother, father, or relative, accompanying them. I couldn’t blame them. I would want to protect my family from myself if I were them too. Each time, I had to draw back my hair to reveal my right eye. And each time, they failed the test.

By the end of the day, I was exhausted. Who knew it drained so much energy from me, making people fall in love with me.

I started to get up. I wanted to leave, but my mother — who was sitting next to me, cross-legged, and calm — stopped me. She pulled at my wrist. “There is one more,” she said. “And I believe this one is promising.” A quick smile. I did not return it.

I sat back down.

There was no such thing as ‘promising’. Everyone failed at this test. Everyone. One look at my right eye and bam. It’s head over heels love. A curse, I call it. A gift, my mother calls it.

A curse.

He was tall. Everything about him was black. His hair, his clothes, his shoes; the only thing that wasn’t black were his eyes. They were blue. A gray-blue that reminded me of the ocean on a cloudy day. I thought I could almost see-through them.

And they were glaring at me. Those eyes.

I swallowed as he walked in. Behind him, was an older man. His father, I inferred. My mother stood up and bowed towards them. The father returned it. The boy did not. He just stood there. I shot my mother a glance, she ignored it, and motioned them to come closer.

I noticed the father was helping the boy walk towards us. A jolt hit my stomach as they got closer. He wasn’t, in fact, glaring at me. He wasn’t even looking at me.

“Welcome,” my mother beckoned. She finally sat down.

The father nodded, “This is my eldest son, William–”

The boy turned his head to his father, “I can speak for myself, father. I’m not deaf.” He interrupted. The older man nodded silently. He cleared his throat and looked back; straight. “I’m Will Brooke.”

My mother nodded, “Good, good.” She motioned towards me. “But do you think you’re the one, dear?”

Will was silent. His father answered for him. “Of course, he is.” His confidence was overflowing. It surprised me. My mother gave me ‘the look’. I took in a deep breath and pushed back my bangs. The father looked away. My bad eye was showing. The eye that was blue, instead of brown — like my left eye.

The dark haired boy stared. He made no movement, no sound. There was no change in his expression. My mother gasped. It had no effect. “How…?” I whispered. I covered my eye again. The father looked back in our direction. He was smiling.

“Couldn’t you tell?” He laughed. I stared at him, puzzled. My mother was speechless. She didn’t know anymore that I did.

“I’m blind.” I boy said suddenly.

Of course. Everything fell into place in my mind. It all made sense. He couldn’t see it. It couldn’t affect him.

He was the one.

My mother hit my shoulder. “See?” She exclaimed. “I told you he was ‘promising’, didn’t I?” I didn’t reply. Just a few seconds ago, she couldn’t believe it either. She just got lucky.

Will stepped forward. His eyes were pointed towards me, but I knew he could only see darkness. “But I do have a bit of a change — to your agreement, that is. If I could?” He waited for my mother’s approval.

“Go ahead.” Her eyes were narrow.

“I wish to transfer the money given to me, to my family instead. I’ll agree to live with and marry your daughter, miss. But, just…please, give my family the money.” His voice was ragged. His father said nothing.

My mother thought for a moment before agreeing. “It can be done.” She said.

“Thank you,” Will said. A small smile, and then he tried to bow — which was almost unrecognizable as one. His father had to assist him up. “And, Abigail?” His eyes searched for me.

“Yes?” I replied. His eyes locked on where my voice came from.

“I won’t disappoint you.”

I wasn’t sure what to say. Now it was my turn to be speechless.