My Eyes On You

Gray clouds moved swiftly across a black sky, riding with the anxious winds. The sky was ready to rip apart at any moment,and the trees were tossing and swaying as the temperatures plummeted. A storm was coming, that was for sure: the town of Early Winter hadn‟t seen an inch of rain for two months. The air was misty and the tree frogs were humming in a cacophonous symphony, and the moon, a half- crescent of radiant light, was casting an eerie glow on the streets of the town. Leah‟s stepmother stood behind her in the mirror as she tried on a new dress. “That one looks beautiful on you,” she said.Leah squinted into the dirty full-length mirror, examining her twelve-year-old figure with disdain. “I don‟t like it,” she said. Connie brushed her soot-black hair back gently behind her shoulder as Leah adjusted the straps. “You‟re just going out with Mona,” she said. “She doesn‟t care what you look like.” Leah was slight of figure and had big, angular bones. Her skin was yellow and when she was born, all the nurses thought she was jaundiced. Her lips were lush and full and red, and her eyes were the color of mint gumdrops. Her skin, though yellow, was flawless: she possessed a certain glow that was unmatchable by any of the girls her age. From outside, a branch of pine needles brushed against the window. “It looks like a storm is coming,” Connie said. “You might need to take your umbrella.” That night Leah was going to go to a party with her best friend, Mona Child. They had been best friends since the second grade, ever since a bully had taken one of Leah‟s drawings and ripped it up. Later, Mona found it in the trash and taped it together with scotch tape and gave it back to her, saw the tears on her face, and offered to give her the French vanilla pudding from her lunch. Connie was a wonderful stepmother. When her mother Danielle had been alive, Connie was a friend of the family through the Methodist church. When Danielle died seven years ago from breast cancer, she was an immense support to the female members of the family. Five years ago, when her father came to her with the news that he wanted to remarry, Leah was happy. Leah finally found the right dress. “I think this one will work,” she said. Connie smiled at her with love in her eyes. “You look stunning.” Connie left the room and Leah turned back to the mirror. She examined her eyes and saw two bright jewels shining back at her.She picked up a silver charm bracelet from the top of the bureau and gingerly fastened it to her wrist. She owned several charms from the various cities she had traveled to during to her life—Seattle, New York, Chicago, Detroit, Los Angeles,Philadelphia—although so far, she had never been out of the country. Around her neck she fastened the ruby necklace that had once belonged to her grandmother. “Grammy” didn‟t have a lot of money, but she liked having nice jewelry, and in particular she liked rubies, which were her birthstone. Leah noticed how her collarbone jutted out from her creamy flesh. Even if she weren‟t so thin it would have still done that; but the recent weight loss certainly accentuated her prominent bones. The dress she chose was black, short, and sleeveless. Her long legs exposed, Leah could have passed for a few years older than she was. Satisfied, she twirled around in the mirror, smooching at the seventeen-year-old who stared back at her. She left her long hair down, and she wore no make-up.She didn‟t need any. She was already seductive in her own right.But leaving the room, she felt the oddest sensation,like the rush of wind against moist skin. She stopped dead in her tracks, her delicate fingers still on the light switch. “Mama?” she called. There was no answer. Leah felt a shiver run through her body. “Mama!” She began to run. Fear overcame her; all her other senses were dulled. Thoughts of murder and blood and horror flashed before her eyes in a fit of panic. But in climbing down the stairs, her heel caught in the wooden railing, and she fell. Tumbling awkwardly down the carpeted steps, Leah felt the wind knocked out of her as she went blind from confusion.At the bottom, she landed with a loud kerplunk! “Leah, I‟m right here.”Connie was standing over her, looking very concerned.Leah felt childish and stupid sitting there in a heap, a rug burn on her knee. “Need some help up?” But Leah was relieved. “Yes, thank you.” As Connie helped her up, Leah noticed a tear on her dress. “Oh, no.” Connie dusted her off and examined the tear. “Oh, it‟s nothing. I‟ve got a sewing kit and I can fix you up in no time.” Shakily, Leah walked over to the mirror and straightened her tousled hair. Just then the phone rang. As Connie answered it, Leah checked her handbag. Ten dollars and a cell phone just in case she got stranded somewhere and needed to call home. “It was Mona,” Connie said. “She says she‟s running a little late. I still don‟t understand why you want to wear a dress for a girls‟ night in.” Leah was close with her stepmother. She confided in her about all the little things that happened to her, and over the years, a mutual trust had built up between the two of them. Which was why she felt a pang of guilt that she was lying to her about this party. But why would she let her go to a high school party?