Those Eyes 17

This is my first submission to the site. All comments are welcome...

-Santana-

I paused at the library doors and stared up at the sun. It was particularly blinding that day but I barely squinted as I stared straight into its brightness. I thought back to another day like this one, a day where the sun was blinding and the air was muggy and humid. I was 17 then and so much different than I am now. I hated days like this, they always reminded me of another hot, muggy day five years ago.

My mom died when I was 13. She had cancer and watching her slowly drift away was probably the second most traumatizing event in my life. The first being when my father died. It was the spring before I was to go off to college and it was incredibly hot for a spring day in Virginia. I had gone outside without sunscreen on and my strict adoptive Vietnamese father was yelling at me for my irresponsibility. Despite my darker skin tone, I was incredibly sensitive to sunlight and I wasn't supposed to leave my house without sunscreen and sunglasses. I had forgotten both that day and my father had walked in on me as I stared at my reddened shoulders in the mirror hanging in the foyer.

I could hear his voice like he was here, "Tại sao các bạn rất vô trách nhiệm?" Why are you so irresponsible? I used to hate when he yelled at me in Vietnamese, it always sounded so much harsher.

"Dad, please speak in English." I said as I rolled my eyes.

"I don't understand why you do such stupid things, Santana! Forgetting your glasses! Forgetting to put on sunscreen! Not taking your vitamins! Why must I always have to keep such a close watch over you? You're almost an adult!" He shouted.

"Exactly, Daddy! I'm almost an adult and I don't need or want you breathing down my neck every two seconds!" I decided in that moment that it was a good time to tell my father about my decision regarding college. I visibly gulped and inhaled deeply trying to find an inner strength. "Daddy, I'm not going to Virginia Tech. It's a great school, amazing really but not for me. I don't understand why I can't go to NYU. I can apply for grants, I can get a job. I'll do anything, Daddy!" I pleaded.

He looked me directly in the eyes and for a second I saw what looked like fear and desperation. "That's not happening, sweetheart. You WILL go to Virginia Tech and you will live at home and commute just as we decided." He said in a calm, matter of fact tone.

"WE didn't decide anything! Stop trying to control my life and just let me go! I'm almost convinced you want everyone thinking that I'm crazier than cat shit just like they think you are!" I screamed and before I had a chance to realize the words that had just left my mouth, I felt his hand come crashing down against my left cheek. Startled, I quickly placed my hand over the place he had just hit. Tears stung in my eyes." Mỹ, cha. Nhưng tôi sẽ không bao giờ tha thứ cho bạn." Fine, Father. But I will never forgive you.

He looked as stunned as I felt and when he reached for my hand I pulled back. Staring at the hardwood floor of the foyer, I slowly turned around and exited the house that I had grew up in. I stood on the front porch for a few seconds and then I ran. In that moment, running seemed like the most logical thing to do. It was a compulsion that I failed to refrain. I took off into the woods surrounding our home. I had always found comfort in the woods and welcomed its shade from the beaming sun. I had always felt like I could run forever and over the years I had gotten quite fast, strangely fast.

I stopped when I reached the impressive fort that had become my sanctuary since I was five. I went there when I had had enough of all of the other kids picking on me because I couldn't go out into the sun for very long and because I couldn't eat all of the same things they did, or because of how thick my glasses were and my hearing aids. I was borderline blind and deaf, a result of my birth mother doing too many drugs, my parents would tell me. The kids used to call me, "Bubble Girl" and then just good old fashioned, "Freak" or "Nerd." Being an outsider allowed me to fully invest myself in my school work and I excelled academically which in my high school just caused me to be called more names. Growing up in my small, rural, southern, town engulfed in the Bible Belt hadn't been easy for me or my family. It went way past being a minority in a predominantly white town, the bigotry and racism I could handle. Being called a chink and the "n" word was something I could ignore but I couldn't handle the direct attacks aimed towards me and my father.

Many of the kids that I had gone to school with were going to Virginia Tech also. I couldn't bear the thought of another four years of hell. Why couldn't Daddy understand that I needed to leave that place? Hell, I never understood why he didn't just go with me. I grew angry as I thought of all the things that people used to say about my father. He was paranoid yes, and slightly eccentric but he never deserved their harsh words. I reigned in my temper as I was thrown back into my flashback.

I was sitting in my hidden fort, cursing my father and the day he adopted me. I was blaming him for everything wrong in my life even things that I knew were far beyond his control. I was so lost in my thoughts and self-pity that I barely heard my father screaming my name. I peeped through the small hole that I had drilled years ago and watched my father as he screamed my name and searched for me. I planned on making him search for me all night but changed my mind when I noticed the sky darkening. It was going to storm. I was prepared to emerge from my hiding spot when I saw two men walk up slowly behind my father.

"Where is she?" One asked. "You said you would bring us to her, now where the fuck is she?"

"I don't know." My father said, desperately.

One of the men roughly pushed my father and he fell hard to the ground. I gasped and quickly covered my mouth to prevent being heard. I watched as my father tried to lift himself off the ground and the other man delivered a swift kick to his midsection. My father coughed and groaned a little and attempted to once again life himself up from the ground.

"Santana, mật ong, ở nơi mà bạn được! Hãy yên tĩnh và ở ẩn!" Santana, honey, stay where you are! Be quiet and stay hidden! He screamed.

"What the fuck did you just say?" The one who had kicked him yelled.

"I just told her to come out, that's all!" My father said, frantically.

"Fuck that! What did you really fucking say?" The man asked once more delivering a kick to my father's side.

"Ở trong pháo đài!" Stay in the fort!

Those were my father's last words.

"Fuck this." The man who had pushed my father said as he pulled out a small handgun and shot my father three times in the back of the head.

I had almost forgotten what happened next. Something clicked inside of me that day. It was like I could feel this energy traveling through my blood stream, the ultimate rush. My vision sharpened dramatically and I tore my glasses off my face, stunned and confused. I began to hear loud thumping in my ears, two unique rhythms. I realized later that I had heard their heartbeats. I didn't have time to think about what was happening to me, all I could think about was the anger that I felt; anger at the two men, surely still searching for me without my father's help. I quickly crawled through the opening leading me out of my sanctuary. It was almost like I could smell where the two had gone and I followed my senses.

I stopped short of a small clearing and watched as the men crept through the woods. My anger peaked and before I knew it I was running towards them, screaming wildly. Before they had a chance to draw their weapons, I leapt. I had somehow latched onto the first man and my instincts told me to bite. I aimed for his throat, sank my teeth into him, closed my jaw tightly and pulled back. I fell to the ground with him and spit out the flesh that I had removed from his body. I set my sights at the other. He was too stunned to draw his weapon and I capitalized on his surprise with one swift swipe to his throat with my hand. I watched as my nails slashed through his skin and listened to him gasping for air.

Suddenly the smell of the blood turned tantalizing and I was suddenly on top of the man drinking from his throat as he bled to death. The sound of thunder tore my attention away from my meal and it was then that I realized what I had done. I threw myself away from the man and stared in horror at the gore filled scene before me and I vomited. I looked down at myself; I was covered in blood and my own vomit and as if the skies sensed my needs, it began to rain. I stood there shaking as the rain washed away the blood of the men who had forever changed me. I refused to let myself think about what I had just done. And instead I walked back to my house avoiding the path that would lead me back to father's dead body.

Once inside, I picked up my cell phone and dialed 911. Once the operator picked up, the lies came out much too easily. "There are three dead men in my yard. One is my father, the other two killed him. The guard dogs killed them...Santana Nguyen... 1567 Ardmore Drive. Yes, the house with the huge gate." "Yes, I'll be right here. Thank you." I said as I hung up. I then hit the release button for our guard dogs knowing that they'd quickly find the bloodied bodies in the clearing.

I laid down on the hardwood floor of the foyer and like a freight train, it all hit me. I began crying uncontrollably. I was an orphan. My father died protecting me. I cried for five days straight but I cried for my father, not for what I done. In my head, it may as well have been the dogs that killed those men.

I shook my head to clear myself of the thoughts of that fateful afternoon. My eyes had started tearing up and I wasn't in the mood to have an emotional breakdown on the steps of the library. I hadn't gone to NYU. A friend of the family who had taken me in after the incident convinced me that I didn't need such a dramatic change of scenery and I decided to go American University instead. My father had left me more than enough money to live off of for a very long time and I didn't want for anything except to have to my family back.

I stared at the doors of the library and decided that maybe it wasn't a good time to study. I was much too distracted. I sighed and headed towards the bike rack where I had secured my bike. I pulled my helmet out of my bag, climbed on, and took off towards home.

Once inside of my apartment, I began to strip immediately. It was something that I had grown accustomed to doing and every day I was grateful that I could afford to live alone. I walked into my bathroom and stopped at the full length mirror. Since that day five years ago, I no longer needed to wear glasses. I was almost convinced that my vision was better than 20/20 but I was too scared to go to an actual eye doctor. I also no longer needed my hearing aids or to wear sunscreen whenever I wanted to go outside. All of my senses had changed that day. A lot had changed that day. And I had successfully avoided thinking about it until today.

I had developed a fascination with the way that I looked but I would never have referred to it as conceitedness or shallowness. I was more so amazed. I possessed a look that was almost other worldly. I stared at my form clad only in black cotton boy shorts and a simple black bra. My caramel skin almost glowed with its golden undertones. My thick black hair cascaded in waves down to my waist. My eyes were a little too bright and their natural olive green color made them the focal point of my face. My cheek bones were high and my dimples were incredibly deep. My nose was slightly wide but fit my face well and my lips were full and tinted red, like I was always wearing a lip stain. I smiled at myself, I had a slight gap between my two front teeth but it certainly didn't take away from my beauty. My neck was long and graceful and flowed perfectly into toned shoulders. My breast were C's and incredibly perky. My waist synched in slightly then flared out into well rounded hips leading to supple, thick, but toned thighs that were the beginning of ridiculously long legs. Yes, I was certainly beautiful, but it was a sort of beauty that was disconcerting.

I stared at myself in the mirror. "What are you?" I whispered.