Through everything, the eyes peered at her. They had always been there- she knew it to be true. They were there before she was born, before anyone was born. That hole in that corner watched on forever, and she- only she- could see those eyes.

They moved and scuttled about, rolling over each other in ever-shifting gazes that never blinked. And they watched her world through that corner.

She was six when she first noticed the crack. She knew it had always been there, but she only noticed that crack the day someone had turned all her LEGO blocks inside out. She had sat there for hours wondering how it could be possible when dusk brought a faint glow to her attention.

There in that crack stared one little eye. She blinked at it, and it saw her. She knew it was inside of her; that eye peered through her own the way Billy Thomson’s bright blue eyes could see through everything.

She tried to tell her parents that night, pleading for them to come and look at the eye that looked at her, but they only laughed and said “Oh childhood minnow cents!”

She didn’t know what minnow cents was, in fact she had no idea minnows needed spare change. But it kept her parents from inspecting the eye the way parents ought to, she knew. And after tossing a few of her coins into the pond didn’t work she let the eye keep watching, and every day more strange things came from that corner.

With each new day came a new eye. And with each new eye came a new dilemma. At two eyes all of her dolls wore their shoes on the wrong feet, despite not owning shoes the day before. The third eye brought flowers made entirely of stems with petals lifting them towards the sun. The fifth brought glowing will-o-wisps about the garden outside. And these went on for a year, until all her pillows were made of stone and her clothes and underwear grew with her.

She grew to care for the eyes in the corner, all 372 of them. She would whisper to them at night. She told them of her brother off on the western front. How there were people in Amerfrica who wore no clothes all day and no one told them they were naked. She spoke of the lost city of Atlantis, where an ancient race of superior beings couldn’t swim to save their lives.

And for the longest time, they said nothing.

But on the day she turned eight, whispers came from that corner. They were hisses and hushes, spips and swashes, but that was all at first. By the third day they had named her hhhheeliTTle Ghaarl. And she liked that she had made closer friends in the eyes.

And soon they could tell her things, like where the cookie jar was, and why her mother and father went to bed in the same room.

And then they asked her if she’d like to see them.

“But I can see you- you’re right there.”

“hhhNohhh, hhyou hhseee hhonly hhhhhhhour hhhhheyes, hhhheeliTTle Ghaarl.”

“Then How is it I could see more than just your eyes?”

“hhhhhhBy hhhhLoooking!”

She thought a bit. About looking, about how one sees with all they have. And so she got up, and she moved to the corner, and there she placed her face to see. From there she saw an infinite black, a darkness beyond all dark, and then everything.

It was brilliant and beautiful- everything that ever was and ever would be she saw as it expanded and expanded. That everything formed into balls of light, beautiful stars in the distance which exploded and formed more, and more. She saw vast oceans form where once rocks had held together. She watched explosions of lava and shooting stars. She saw giant lizards walk and eat, and she watched tiny men with seventeen legs and four hundred teeth build towers to worship their sky. She watched fish with wings become spiderlike and monsterous.

She saw everything for all time until one day she saw a little girl.

She had forgotten who that little girl could be but she knew her. She knew that that little girl couldn’t see everything like she could. The little girl had no eyes that could see what eyes should see. She tried to tell her what she needed to do to be able to see, and so she took the girls rectangular prisms and pulled the in from the out.

It wasn’t long before she had done almost 380 things to show the girl how to see, and so she called to her, but her voice hadn’t been used for so long, and she could only say:

“hhhheeliTTle Ghaarl”

And the girl without eyes turned to greet the girl who saw everything.

_________________

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you liked it.

A lot of stuff has happened in the past couple of days so you should look around the site! First, I’ve Opened the store and added a few goodies that you might like! I’ve also been setting up the next episode of Trying to Focus, which sadly is the last one until next semester. However do not fear! On Friday you will get a new podcast from me that I think you might find useful!

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10 thoughts on “The Corner

    1. Oh what horrors lie beyond that mirror, I thought, and reached to pull it from its nail.

      “Hello.” Said the mouse, with a hat and a vest fitted neatly on his person, “I was wondering if you wouldn’t happen to have any peanut-flavored butter. I can pay you, if you’ll take Musbits.”

  1. I love it how this draws me in and makes me wonder more and more and more about what is going on. Sign of a great story, draw your reader in and keep them guessing. I would Love to hear your synopsis. Happy everything, my friend.

    1. I’m glad you liked it! It took me for a surprise how it morphed the way it did. I’ve been getting more interested in trying to mold cosmic horror with the point of view of a child. I feel the innocence makes it more compelling.

      I do imagine the little girl as having no eyes though. And it’s a horrifying intrusive thought in my head.

      1. That is a really horrifying thought. The child “minnowcents” makes horror so much more horrifying. Great to hear about your writing process. Keep up the great work!!

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