A birthday present for one of my friends (:
Loved, she was. Her red hair was envied by many, her smile by more. Her eyes were a completely different matter though, one blue and one green. Piercing green, it was. They found it scary, all of them. But they loved her long, red hair, all of them. ‘Thank God she’s pretty,’ they whispered behind her back and when she wasn’t there. No one ever looked her in her eyes though, they didn’t dare, none of them. Weaklings. One like shallow water, one likely to see right through your lies and burn all your truths to ashes. But she was, oh, so pretty, who could hate her but for her eyes? Not her, not the pretty little girl with the red hair! Like flames it was, the kindest flames. It wouldn’t burn you, not like her eye would; it would only caress you like the very clouds of God’s Heaven itself.
Then them came, they took her. Away she went, never to come back, they said. She never did, even. Loved, she was. And then they forgot her. ‘Thank God she’s pretty,’ they kept repeating a few times, shrugged and then forgot her. Just like that, simple as that. Ungrateful beasts. She was our everything, until them took her away! Those mongrels! Her eye, they said, that’s why. It was the eye of the devil, they said. Paid no attention to her sex, they did. They took her away, never to come back. Never to come back. Took her away, they did. The eye of the devil. The devil, they called her. The devil. The devil. The Devil!
Thank God they didn’t know how close they are.