Novel & Cerita One Eye Blinking Slower Than The Other

Then one of Mike’s fingers, resting at his side, twitched. Just once. Barely. “His finger moved,” Dr. Zimmer said, his voice breaking with excitement. And then, right in front of everyone watching the monitors and the operating table, Mike’s eyelids, closed for three long months, trembled too. One second. Two. Three. Seven seconds later, his heavy eyelids slowly, painfully, opened a narrow slit. At first his gaze was unfocused, clouded. Then his eyes closed again before opening once more. No one in the room dared breathe.

Alina I blinked. Once. Twice. The light was too much. It pressed down on me, like fingers prying into my skull. My heartbeat pulsed in my ears, and I could hear things. Too many things. A rustle here. A sigh there. The ticking of a clock far away, though I wasn’t sure if it was real or imagined. Was I going mad? I shut my eyes again, breathing slowly. One breath. Two. Three. Then, I opened them carefully—slowly, like peeling back a wound that hadn't quite healed. I blinked again, trying to focus.

I just kept talking, wanting my voice to dominate over the eerie sounds of the winds blowing against the trees. Wiping my face with the back of my hand, a low light shimmered brightly against my eyes, almost blinding me. Shielding my eyes, I moved away a little and tried to blink multiple times to adjust to the bright light it shone with. Blinking I tried to get rid of the tears that soaked my sensitive eyes, and the blurriness that invaded my vision.

He stood at least a foot taller than me with his every defined muscle in full revelation through his tight black shirt. Suddenly, he lifted me and placed my feet upon his. While continuing his gaze into my soul, he rested my hands upon his shoulders, and his hands at my hips. His movements ever swift and graceful, that my eyes could not keep track of them. I remember reading once that the human eye can only see up to thirty to sixty frames per second. His movements are so much faster than what I can perceive.

"It's very faint, it looks like he's dead." I suddenly felt a bit anxious. I leaned in and lifted his eyelids. Not sure if it was just my imagination, but it seemed like his eyeballs moved. I looked at the other eye in confusion. Then I realized, that eye was actually open, with a cold and clear black-and-white iris staring at me.

A whoosh of air, a sudden release that hauls him back and pushes me away, so I’m dropped on my a** in the dirt, blinking stupendously. It’s all a whir of mere seconds, as though I’m in slow motion and the world is speeding around me. My vision is blurry with tears, and my left eye is burning so bad it’s streaming. As I try to acclimatize, I can see the fluid form of a trained fighter, a silent, deadly movement and intimidating presence.

Why was my face staring back at me? "Say something, please. You have been staring at that wall for minutes now, and I am scared shitless of how glassy eyed you are. So I am going to need you to take a deep breath, and repeat after me, okay?" Was I talking to myself? I blinked. Then blinked again. My reflection was not blinking. There was a frown on the face instead, and maybe I was the one frowning, but something was weird. What was weird? "She's not responding still. She just keeps blinking like something is in her eye," my reflection said, and my lips parted in surprise.

Right then, someone tapped his shoulder. "I'm right here." He spun around and saw Hayley standing there, perfectly solid and real. He froze for a second. "Wait… You were just here. What's wrong with me?" "You've only got one eye. Makes your vision glitch sometimes. That's totally normal," Hayley said casually. Griffin didn't even know how to respond. Hayley was more than satisfied with the result. If even Griffin, who knew her best, could overlook her, then everyone else didn't stand a chance.

He blinks and turns away. “Do you have to do that?” I ask. “Do what?” “Blink?” “Oh.” He seems almost surprised by the question. “I suppose not. My eyes won’t dry out like humans, but if dirt or dust gets in them, it’s still irritating. And it’s like breathing. Many of us don’t let those habits go. It’s something you don’t even think about.” “So weird.” He playfully nudges me. “I thought it was interesting yesterday.”

Now I see why she did. She opens both eyes but refrains from looking at me. Her eyes, both swollen and purple, are focused on the ceiling, and although the swelling has significantly reduced, you can just tell that the left eye was swollen shut just hours ago. It’s also bloodshot red compared to the right one.