Behind Her Eyes Book Review Novels & Stories

I have to touch my face. Then, years later, I had the chance to look into her eyes again. They weren’t light, but not too dark either—big, alert, always curious. And strangest of all, watery, because that wicked woman was sensitive about everything. Not that she cried easily, but her eyes revealed how she saw the world. They showed her fears and joys everywhere she went. What magnificent eyes! Like something out of an anime.

For her, it was a war she hadn’t survived. Her eyes stayed on the ceiling. Not crying. Not screaming. Just staring — because there was nothing left to do. She couldn't even understand what had happened to her. She was too innocent, too young and inexperienced to all of it. Her eyes were the first thing you’d notice — or would have, once. Wide, gentle things once full of questions and quiet wonder, the kind of eyes that still believed in kindness even after life had shown otherwise. They were the color of baby blue held by the lightest shade of ocean, but now they held no warmth. Only glass. Only distance.

She shrugs, “I can see better now. There are three more over there in the distance. They seem worried about approaching.” She looks back at them and glares at them. She sees them talking to each other, and then turn and dash away. “They seem to be leaving.” He nods. She blinks and her vision slowly returns to normal, and everything seems dark again. He takes her hand and opens the van door, the inside light turning on as he does. She hops back inside. “What are you?” She raises an eyebrow, moves across the bench seat to the far side, and sits back. She closes her eyes, and sighs,

But before she exited the room, she turned around and asked: "Professor, might I suggest the next reading passage? He gazed at her, sizing up her audacity with icy eyes — but inside, he was seething. "You may." "Story of the Eye, by Bataille", she stated, with the calmest voice in the world. He held her gaze. "Approved. But remember... some readings are irreversible." She blinked. "I'm counting on it." And she walked away. Her skirt swaying on her hips, like a definitive period without any regret.

Hand on the knob. The house burned behind her, slowly, elegantly. The kind of fire that didn’t destroy, only reminded you what had already been lost. She didn’t look back. Didn’t breathe. Didn’t cry. She turned the handle. The door creaked open. And behind it, There was no sky. No ground, Just a single chair. Facing away from her. Someone sat in it. Reading, A book made of bone. Their voice hummed. And the page they read out loud was Chapter 101.

She asked, but her voice was frighteningly calm. I gulped. "I got tired of using it, Your Majesty. I want to see the world with my eyes, while I still…" I need to be quiet. "I mean, I want to see everything that I couldn't all those years. I'm tired of being afraid of what I'm going to see, death comes to everybody and there's nothing we can do about it. It's not like I'll cause someone's death with my eyes, I'm just going to see it. Although most people don't seem to understand that, or rather, they don't want to. And that's okay, I don't mind people blaming me for it, not anymore. I just won't stand being accused of something I didn't do, like killing someone especially because I didn't wa

, Fleki whispers, “No, I can hear her heart beating.” Rubbing my eyes as they opened, briefly blinded by the late afternoon sun beaming through the forest canopy above where I lay. I squinted, and when my eyes finally focussed, I realised a pair of eyes glistening with gold, and long black lashes that curled upwards, so intensity that made me gasp, were staring right back at me. “Please don't hurt me “. Frantically I started searching the ground for something to protect myself with. Then, realising my search was futile, I abruptly sat up, trying to muster as much dignity as I could.

I remained mute to the spots as I mustered the courage to face the group once more. They all had the same look I had on my face as they stared in a particular direction. Behind, an outstandingly beautiful girl sat staring deep into my eyes as if trying to pierce my soul. Her skin glowed like melted chocolate in a saucepan, as her hoodie laid on her effortlessly on her head. She lifted her head so I could see her face. She had blue glasses which made it difficult for me to see her stunningly carved eyes that loomed angrily behind the shades. I couldn’t guess the colors her eyes were made up of, but they will either be black or brown.

But What? Taking a seat beside the window, elegantly she removed her shades and placed it on the small table. Her eyes that lacked light and spirit peered outside the white floating clouds. They were no longer hidden behind those brown contact lenses. Her natural emerald eyes were dimmed with gloom and exclude melancholy. The scene from the previous night began to play before her eyes.

The look in her eyes was something I hadn't seen since, either with people far too disillusioned -like me- or people who held darker, more sinister thoughts towards the place, and me. The look she gave in contrast to both of those was bright, almost blinding. At first, everything about her was a mystery. Yet, the more I got to know her, the more I believed she was an open book. But it was more complicated. Looking at her now, it still felt like there was something empty. Something I hadn't figured out. “Would you like to get some fresh air?” I offered it instantly. Her bright dark eyes practically glittered against the golden hue of the lights, disarming me for a moment. I cleared my throat.