Amson, 18, "Eyes For Those Open"

My torso sprung upward, forcing me to sit upright. In less than a second, I was in my bed, again, as if I'd never left, the morning of my birthday. I sat in that daze, trying to process that odd dream, but as all of my dreams usually ended up, it'd escaped me, slipping into the void behind what I considered my consciousness. Typically, memories of dreams like that never resurfaced unless I had the same or similar, again, so it was safe to assume I'd never dig it up.

Just like that, I made no qualms about dropping the thought, as quickly as it'd came to me. Still, there was something I was forgetting; it was as if someone'd cut a hole into my memory.

'What happened last night?' I thought, but this time, my failure to remember startled me.

The fact that I would forget something, not a dream but an actual, truthfully real event, was a bit frightening, especially since it was so important. The day of my birthday-- rather, the day of my birthday "party," was so clear until that one, precise moment... the moment I put those damn shoes on.

I peered over the edge of my bed, and there they were, chilling at my bedside like my shoes usually did. My usual shoes were nowhere to be found, however, and I sat estranged, slowly mustering up the courage to leave the comfort of my bed.

Eventually, I climbed out of bed, picked up my phone, and surveyed the surroundings of my bed. My sneakers, the grey sneakers I'd worn since the start of high school-- it was like they'd vanished into thin air. It couldn't have been the case, though...

I knelt down, peering underneath my bed in hopes that I'd getting that passing, familiar glance, but again, it was in vain, leaving me alone with those loafers. For some reason, I was apprehensive about putting them on again, but all the same, something called me-- beckoned me toward them. It was as if the fabric had me caught, tightly knit into the shoe itself...

I shook my head free of that strange, nearly hypnotic rambling. This was about shoes, mind you, shoes my mother and father bought for me, at that... But, why? What was making me so hesitant?

I grabbed the closet door, turning the knob and opening the door.

'Oh...' I thought, looking directly at my grey sneakers as they lie comfortably inside.

///

The school bell rang, and I walked, alone, through the halls, red squares checkered along the cracking, ceramic floors. I was undeniably lost in a sea of thought, retracing my steps as Baun had taught me, but I still came up with nothing.

Just as she said, Lore was nowhere to be found once I left my room to leave, her room barren yet unfortunately not lifeless, and Mom and Dad'd given me my keys back, thankfully. I found it strange why they never thought to buy a car for themselves; both Lore and I have one, insured and all through their efforts.

I guessed they just enjoyed the company of one another on that rinky-dink bus.

Another thing, stuff I never had before were littered around my room, things that, looking back, I don't think I'd ever consciously buy unless held at gunpoint. Specifically speaking, clothes, men's clothes, but they weren't any style I'd spend money on, more Lore's style.

Wait a minute...

'That was Lore's present?' I sighed. 'Seems like she was shopping for herself more than anything...'

Yet, I was inclined to appreciate them. If I squinted my eyes a little, they didn't look like I was trying to whore myself out. Aside from unnecessary metal galore, black leather at the end of summer, and the tangible loneliness hiding behind the fabric, they might've been considered designer... by a blind man.

'Maybe I could pawn them off to that Asian chick in homeroom.' I chuckled a bit at the thought. 'Bet she'd pay good fucking money.'

Out of respect for my sister, that was a joke, though in hilariously poor taste.

Finally, I'd made my way to homeroom, and entering the door, I felt the eyes of everyone dart toward me, meeting front and center. I was greeted by Mrs. Dixie in her typical, cheery nature.

"Mr. Grinner!" She yelled enthusiastically. "I thought we might miss you, today!"

"Y-Yes, ma'am." I responded. "I'm sorry for any disturbance."

"Ooh..." She gasped. "So polite."

"T-Thanks." I rubbed my neck, laughing awkwardly and closing my eyes.

For a moment, I reopened my eyes, catching a glimpse of amber red. Tora sat in her seat like she'd never left, but she stared me down, our eyes locking for that split moment. Though the stare, on the surface at the very least, didn't seem malicious, it made me feel oddly uncomfortable, making me want to hide myself.

I turned my body toward Ms. Dixie as a reflex.

"Actually, Mrs. Dixie..." I asked, and she looked at me with intrigue. "Could I talk to you for just a moment?"

She looked at me for a moment, then turned toward the class.

"Study hall time, children!" She clapped furiously.

///

"Is something wrong, Mr. Grinner?" Mrs. Dixie looked into my eyes with compassion.

We stood outside the room, and I leaned against the nearest locker as we spoke. I had to gather my thoughts; something brought me away from that room. I thought I was going to be the guy I always wanted to be, free of control, but looking into those eyes... I couldn't bring myself to bring out that sort of confident bravado.

Something rose within me in that moment, the moment she looked into my eyes and I looked into hers. I felt almost frozen, unable to think properly.

I think... I was scared, scared to look at and be looked at by her.

"Y-Yes, ma'am." I started. "I hope it's not much trouble."

"Of course." She said, smiling. "Say whatever you'd like; it looks like you've got something on your mind. I'm no counselor, but if I can help, I'd love to."

Her demeanor was strangely different. In fact, it was completely opposite. She was chill instead of that usual, forced and annoying, chipper tone. She seemed-- well, like a normal, though younger than the usual teacher, lady. I guess I'd just removed the possibility that the usually sketchy teachers would be human in any regard. Nonetheless, the change was welcome, and I felt more comfortable with each word we exchanged.

"I just..." I struggled. "I wanted to apologize how I might've acted... I think it was Friday. I had a lot on my mind, and I shouldn't have taken out that anger toward you."

"Hmm?" She looked at me, curious. "I don't remember anything like that... At least, maybe, in that moment you remember, I didn't take any offense."

"Really?" It was odd, the feeling in my gut.

I'd been so involved, mentally, in that moment, but she didn't take notice of my aggression, my anger at the world for the wildness of my mind.

"Really, Mr. Grinner." She smiled, looking into the sky like Tyriq had on that hill.

I felt my heart shiver, hearing her words.

"The world inside one mind is much different than the other." She extended her arms. "You might be feeling broken, utterly destroyed by regret... and yet, to the other mind, you might seem completely fine, or at least, no different than their usual."

She pinched her hands.

"When you're stressed, your mind might close, and with eyes to look, hands to reach, and a mouth to speak, we still feel that same apprehension... to open that pain of thought and maybe even of feeling to the other mind. Yet, its through that same exchange that people can-- well, sense that pain, the humanity of another."

She lowered her hands, looking into my eyes.

"Most people seldom consider the other mind, but each mind's unique perception and interpretation of the world, their world, is completely different than what you might think reasonable, even plausible. Follow?"

I blinked, trying my best to retain.

"I--uh... I think I do, Mrs. Dixie." I stammered. "Does that mean you'll forgive me?"

"For me, in the most brutally blatant honesty, I don't think there's anything to forgive you of..." She looked into my eyes again. "Yet, for your sake, I'd have to say I forgive you, Mr. Grinner. You ready to learn yet, kiddo?"

"Y-Yes, ma'am." I said. "Sorry."

She turned her back to me, but for some reason, she stopped right before opening the door.

"Do you forgive yourself, Mr. Grinner?" She asked, leaving me there, motionless.