Not Supposed to See

I was always told that I wasn't supposed to see those things. Constantly I was told to forget and turn away. All my life, my family knew me for my bad timing. I always interrupted private conversations without knowing, but most of all, I saw things I never should have.

I grew up in a large village on the east coast of Virana (the vampire realm) in a place known as Tanak Town. Most of the residents were actually apart of the Simmons family, my relatives. Being the largest family, we, of course, pretty much owned the town. My father was the head of the family, and so naturally assumed the position of mayor. I distinctively remember him telling me, "Zane, if one day you can rid yourself of your curse, you might become mayor yourself."

My mother was a pure bred housewife. She cleaned, cooked, waited on father, and home schooled me. I didn't have any friends because of this. However, one girl in the town, the apprentice of the ex-soldier Mr. Thomas, would always say a greeting as she passed the house, and sometimes would sneak a conversation to me. I never knew her name. She was fiery and sarcastic, full of energy and spunk. Her blood red eyes were bright and her blonde hair long. She was thin and tan, and rumored to be the town thief.

Because of that rumor, my father forbids me from ever speaking to her again. Around the same time, her visits stopped altogether.

A sense of loneliness inside me grew and I began to leave the house on my own. I would don my brown cloak and walk through the market, stroll along the harbor and shoreline, and visit the members of my family I liked. But I always kept an eye out for the girl with no name.

However, my days of merry "adventure" soon came to an end. It was a normal, peaceful day and the sun was shining bright over Tanak. I decided I would visit my Aunt Eriko. Eriko was the oldest of my father's siblings and was extremely fond of me. She would tell me strange stories of her life and of her dreams. They consisted of murders she had gotten away with, things she had done to make her husband afraid of her, and the deception and destruction she had caused in her hometown. She often told me she was crazy, and I only laughed, thinking that it was all a joke to entertain me.

It became routine that I sneak in through the back door as to not wake her husband (who worked at night). I quietly walked through the small kitchen and peered around into the living room from the archway that divided the two rooms.

My stomach clenched, my red eyes widened, and the dark violet hair on the nape of my neck stood on end at what I saw.

The brilliant shade of blood decorated the walls, furniture, and floor. Things were broken, torn, scattered, and ruined. But the sight that had stopped me was even worse.

Aunt Eriko stood over her husband, her sharp nails dug deep into the flesh of his neck. His eyes were unblinking and his skin mutilated and gray. He had been brutally killed by his own wife.

In a panic, I ran home and directly to my mother for comfort. I sobbed as she tried to calm me down by stroking my hair. But the voice of my father stopped the flow of tears at once.

"Zane, why were you out of the house?" he asked sternly.

"Please, Harold," my mother pleaded, "He's upset! Scold him later."

My father paid no mind to her. "You're always seeing things you shouldn't! Go to your room, and forget everything!" He exclaimed, and I scrambled up the stairs. A nine-year-old should not see such things as I.

x x x

Over the next few days I noticed a change in my father's demeanor. Before, he was simply a strict man who worked much, but now he was… mean. He tolerated nothing, and he no longer looked clean shaven and official. Stubble appeared on his chin and his hair went unbrushed. My mother seemed to be fearful of him, and would stay up late in the library reading every night.

One night after the funeral for my uncle, I lay in bed, unable to sleep. I was afraid. My aunt Eriko had disappeared, and a couple more of the family had been horrifically murdered. The town was on high alert and no one left their houses.

I got up and cautiously headed towards the master bedroom, wanting to hear a soothing song from my mother like I had always done. When I arrived I heard strange muffed sounds coming from within. I opened the door slowly, took in quickly what was behind it and fled for my room, my father close on my heels.

I never wanted to remember that night. My father had been treating my mother in the most harmful way during obviously forced intercourse. He caught me just as I reached my room.

The bruises had healed, but my mind was suffering. I never left my room. My mother had to bring me my meals and school me there.

I stayed that way for the longest time…for months. On my tenth birthday, I was sitting at my desk, flipping through the book my mother had bought for me as a gift, when I heard a tapping at my window. I turned to look, only to find the girl with no name looking back at me.

I didn't waste a second in opening the window, smiling like a human child at Christmas. The loneliness had been so unbearable, and the prospect of someone to talk to overwhelmed my heart.

"Why are you here?" I asked, moving back so that she could climb into the room. She climbed through, but leaned against the sill, not going any farther.

"I came to ask how y'were. I heard about y'r aunt goin' all blitzo and attackin' th' town," she replied, staring me straight in the face.

"I'm…all right," I said hesitantly.

She watched me closely for a few moments. "Are ya really?"

I broke our gaze and looked to the floorboards. "…No," I replied quietly, hesitantly.

"I can understand," she said, standing up. "And y'probably don't wanna tell me all of y'r reasons, righ'?"

I looked up at her in surprise, wondering how she knew what I was feeling, just to find her grinning. I nodded, unable to really respond. "Why…why did she suddenly snap?" I asked, even though she didn't know the answer.

"Years of mental stress most likely," She replied nonchalantly. "At least, that's what Thomas says." A small mew came from outside the window and she turned to look outside quickly.

"What was that?"

"My cat. I have'ta go." She started to climb out of the window but lingered at the sill for a moment. "He tells me when Thomas is returnin' home. I can't be found here."

"Wait!" I exclaimed and ran to the window, watching her climb down. She paused and looked up at me. "What's your name?"

She smirked. "I'm Shane Reynard. You?"

"Zane Simmons." I smiled.

"It's nice to meet ya, Zane," she said and then began to climb again down into the darkness, until she was entirely engulfed and I could no longer see her.

x x x

My father got fed up with my isolation not long after my visit from Shane. He sent me a formal letter summoning me to his office. I walked into the room and was immediately struck with fear. It was a large room, the whole perimeter covered by books shelves. Large windows made up the back wall, and in front of these windows was a large desk made of cherry wood. Standing in front of this desk, leaning against the edge, was my father, looking worse than ever.

For the longest few minutes of my life, we stared each other down. No matter what I wanted to do, I couldn't tear my gaze away.

"What is wrong with you, Zane?" he asked quietly, his voice sending chills up my spine. "Why are you cursed?"

"I…don't know," I replied in fear.

"Really? I do. You intrude. You always see things you shouldn't because you break my rules. I tell you not to interfere, I tell you not to speak to people"—I froze, he knew about my conversation with Shane—"yet you do so deliberately!"

"I don't ever mean to interfere, father," I replied. The anger I felt was immense, but the fear overwhelmed the anger, causing me to stay buried to one spot.

"You always see things you shouldn't," he repeated. "And what do you do when you're caught? You run and hide!" He laughed and slammed his hand down on the desk behind him. "One day you'll lose those eyes as payment for your deeds!"

As if on cue, a figure shot out from the dark corners between the bookcases and tackled my father to the floor. With horror, I realized it was my Aunt Eriko. Blood chilling screams erupted from my father's body as he was torn and mutilated. But I could only stand and watch.

My father was most definitely dead by now. His blood pooled around him and slowly crept towards me, where I was frozen solid to the floor.

With a wicked laugh, Eriko wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "Your father is right. And I can fix that problem."

A lightening bolt exploded within my body and I turned to run, but my aunt leapt into the air and pinned me down to the floor. I struggled, screamed, pinched, and bit…I tried everything to get away but she proved to be stronger.

"The red of your eyes is so beautiful, but it makes my blood boil. I want them!" She thrust her claws through the tops of my eyes and dug around the socket. My screams pierced my own eardrums and the pain was excruciating. Everything went black as she pulled the eyeballs from their holes roughly, snapping the veins and admiring the spheres like gems.

My hands immediately went to cover the empty sockets as blood poured over my fingers. The sight must have been gruesome. Bleeding sockets, ripped eyelids, and a blood covered mad women admiring her newly acquired "treasures". I screamed until my throat was sore, my voice was hoarse, and my lungs were ready to rip.

Eriko stroked my hair with a bloodied hand and then disappeared. She could have been sitting next to me for all I knew. I was blind and writhing in pain. I was afraid of the darkness. I didn't know what was around me, what could hurt me… I was completely unaware of my surroundings. My wits were scattered and my mind concentrated solely on the pain.

My mother found me hours later. The pain had not completely subsided and I couldn't move. I didn't want to move. I couldn't see, and the tears that were flooding into my sockets from the damaged tear ducts stung horribly.

"Oh, Zane…" My mother said softly and placed a soothing hand on my cheek, causing me to flinch involuntarily. "What happened?" Her tone cracked with sobs and her hand trembled.

"Eriko," was all I was able to say.

I didn't receive a response, all I heard was sobbing. My heart broke into many pieces.

To hide the hideous appearance of where my eyes once were, my mother brought me a black cloth to tie around my head. It was a soft fabric that didn't irritate the wounds, so I soon grew used to it.

Eriko had satisfied her revenge by taking my sight. My father knew it was so, or at least that's what I believed. Both believed that my sight was a curse, and that without it I would whither and die. I've decided to defy them both and live a long life as a blind man.

I'll never see things that I shouldn't again, but I'll also never see things that I should.