So Hide Your Eyes

Chapter ONE - That Time My Classmates Drowned Me

Chapter ONE

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My mama told me when I was young, "so hide your eyes when they come."

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Part One - Revival

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    WHEN I WAS ELEVEN, my classmates tried to drown me. They forced me down on the boat, the boys wrenching back my hands, while the others giggle and grabbed my hair. Then they dunked my face into the river. A splash. The world underwater was grey and cool. Different from the sunlight-speckled sorrowful waters I'd saw from above. I blinked my eyes and breathed, but the water rushed in so I choked, gulping then gasping, and writhing my head like a freshly caught fish. My lungs burned with water.

  After a while, I stilled. My eyes slipped close and I died.

    When I opened my eyes I stood in no where. It was empty and ominous and chilly. Beneath my feet was a vaguely sandy floor. It was also dark, so I couldn't see anything beyond. But I knew that the only place worth travelling was forwards. To the future. 

So I stepped ahead.

 It was more difficult than expected, because my leg felt sluggish like it was in some viscous liquid. Still, I carried on. After almost an eternity, I was exhausted and sleepy.

  A silhouette appeared. Spirits revived, I trod on. When I reached, I realized I was staring at the back of a boy. To my surprise, he was no more than thirteen years. He was scrawny, like all Khoel village kids were, from years of famine and unfertile fields, but pale as the devil. Gleaming starkly and wet, was his black hair.

  When he turned around, I shrunk away, hoping the dark would conceal me.

    The boy laughed. "Does this eye scare you?" He teased on the black string stitching shut his pale right eyelid.

    I shook my head fervently. It was a lie.

    "Don't shy," said the boy. He beckoned me with a broken finger and crooked smile. "We're family after all."

    I didn't remember anyone other than my mother who would dare speak in such a familiar tone. So I did as he said, because no one would ever lie about that. The boy sat down and patted the space beside him. I lowered myself to the sand and slid my legs behind me.

    "How'd you get down here?" he said.

   "Where is here?" I said, uncertain but not afraid.

   The villagers always said that when I died I would go to hell. But then they also called me the devil.

Which meant hell would be my heaven. I glanced around and surely, it didn't seem quite so.

Hell was supposed to be red. Red and black. Red for blood and black for death. Here was just sad and blue.

    "It's the bottom of the sea," he replied confidently. "When we die, we come here."

    We. I felt thrilled at the word. "We?"

    He nodded. "We have the eyes," he said, in his low and lilting voice. I thought it was lovely.

  He plucked away the string on the remaining eye. He opened it. The iris was red and, but the rim was pitch black.

    "You have it too." He tapped my eyelids.

    The tapping on my eyeballs felt odd. I shirked.

    "But you haven't answered my question," he added.

    I kept silent, wondering if he would laugh if I told him.

    "Thought so." he sighed, and frowned. He tousled his hair. "I'll go first then. I'm here because the fishermen and the bar crew have killed me for the twenty-seventh time."

    He raised his eyebrows pointedly.

    "I'm here because my classmates drowned me," I said this in a quicksilver jumble of anxious words. I glanced up at his eyes, and wondered if mine were as pretty and magnificent as his.

    The boy whistled like a bird in part admiration and part surprise.

  I jumped.

  "Children these days are so frightening." He shook his head and said.

    "Aren't you a child too?" I asked, curious, but a little furious with my bravado.

    "I don't think so," he said. "I think I'm plenty old enough." He smiled wryly.

    That twist in his lips fascinated me. How wise he was!

    "How old?" I pressed and my cheeks grew warmer. I'd never thought I'd be capable of such rudeness.

  "Eleven."

  His answer only cemented my faith in this ageless, otherworldly creature. His posture was ever casual as if death, destroyer of all men, was not an obstacle. Nothing could stop him. Despite the fact that we were the same - physical - age, I knew the gap between us could never be breached. He was a god.

    "You're short," he suddenly mused. "Shorter than my wife."

    I nearly choked.

"Don't look at me like that." he sounded insulted. "Priest wanted protection for his daughter so I deigned to accept his offer in marriage."

"It's nothing dubious," he assured. He crossed his arms into a severe 'X'. "She's only four years older."

Four years. That was normal. I nodded cautiously. "What do they call you?"

He grinned devilishly. "Demon. We'll be Devil and Demon."

And I knew I was in love.

He began to waver like a reflection in the sea; fading to transparency, and I was gripped by a childish fear that perhaps, this wonderful, benevolent boy was simply another lonely dream.

He noticed my expression. He lifted a hand to wave farewell and smiled. "Come find me," he mouthed. His voice had already vanished.

I hung onto his last sentence, caressing its perfection in my mind and nodded quickly, like he might retract the invitation at any moment. Then he was gone.

The sea was empty again.

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After a long time, I woke up in bed.

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Chapter preview:

"A moment later, he was inert. The dead boy seemed peaceful, unlike the cackling beast he and all his other cowardly friends had been."