Real Crying Eyes Novels & Stories

She came forward and started crying "Wu hu hu... driver uncle please pity me, my eyes are burning a lot, wu hu hu... look at my eyes... hu" Crying, she took off her sunglasses and showed her eyes to the driver. The driver saw a pair of beautiful green eyes, those pair of eyes were shining like an emerald.

“It's all my fault. Everything that happened to you is my fault; I should be the one dead. I'll never be happy, I promise to never be happy.” Tears kept streaming down my face, a quiet, soundless waterfall of sorrow. My body shook slightly, but my mouth was clamped shut, stifling any audible sobs. I cried silently, hiding my pain from the world, as if afraid to let others see the depth of my emotions. Each tear that fell was a testament to the weight I carried, a physical manifestation of the grief, hurt, or frustration that had become too much to bear. My eyes, red-rimmed and puffy, were the only giveaway, a window to the storm raging within.

My eyes awfully shaking as I kept on trying to look away even though it was impossible, yet again I couldn't help but to feel more pathetic of myself. "Why are you staring, pick up what you threw now!" The raging words poisoning the air, not only did it brought me back to reality, but also made my eyes swell back up again, cause not only did he yelled out to my face, but also he did that in front of her... My eyes shifting to her brown ones as my eyes clouding up in hot tears, I blinked twice in order to stop it from flowing down, before looking back at him. "Are you crying?, did I say something wrong huh?..." My shaking looking deeply into his, even though he saw how my vision got blurry ye

I have been given a chance to change it all! I knelt on the ground and then cried, my laughter turned to tears as I cried out my eyes. Then it became soft whimpers. I stood up and then turned to the mirror, I could see my red eyes which were filled with pain and suffering, but in them there was hope.

I need to know who the sound belongs to. I strain to see, but there's nothing to see, only the oppressive darkness. The tears continue to echo, relentless in their sorrow. I need to find the source of those tears to understand and to offer comfort. With a slow, deliberate effort, I force my eyelids to open, welcoming the faintest hints of light. And there, before me, are emerald-green eyes. For a moment, I can't help but be lost in their depths. Beautiful eyes. However, as beautiful as they are, I notice they're red, puffy, and burdened by grief and exhaustion.

I blurt out my worry and break into over emotional terrified tears, fueled by knowing I’m a freak with blood colored eyeballs. My EYES are RED!! I think there is something seriously wrong with me. I snort, and wail into the emptiness of my room, gripped with actual devastation. Really not all too focused on the fact that he’s actually talking to me, because this is bigger, scarier, and overwhelming.

Fresh tears pour from my eyes. Foam pours out of her mouth, and she goes still in minutes, her pupils go above her eyelids. I pull her body close to mine, a loud painful howl erupts from my mouth in the dead of the night.

he shouted and stomped out of the house in anger. “What do I do Lord, help me. I feel so alone.” hugging herself she wept, for the scary present and the unknown tomorrow ****************** A few hours later ****************** “Mum, wake up. You will catch a cold.” Chris shook his mum slowly Disoriented, she looked at her son, “I must have slept off while cleaning.” Chris knew this wasn’t true because the glasses he broke in anger were still scattered on the floor and from the way his mum was curled up on the ground, he knew she had been crying. But he didn't say anything but helped her to the yellow faded couch in the living room.

The chilled air purged his lungs, and little tears clung on his eye bags, begging to be freed. But he was not crying, It was the air that got into his eyes, producing this salty water. He did not clean his eyes. He liked the fact that he was visibly crying. Even though these tears were not real, were not the result of heated emotions. He never cried. All his life..

I was about to stand up, when a little girl with red eyes walked inside the room. “Dad! I need your help.” She yelled and ran toward Vladimir's arms. He kissed the girl's forehead and asked “What happened, baby?” The girl was almost in tears, her eyes were completely red, her irises were in fact deep red, and the white part was red from all the crying going on.