Their Eyes Were Watching God Novels & Stories

He was scared of the look in my eyes, the look that said I was not afraid of him. I whispered these words in the lit room. "The second my father is stable enough to survive the transport. We are crossing the state line." The words just hung there. "You can watch us through your hidden lenses. You can log our coordinates through your tracking loops. You can use every satellite in the Vane network to map the rest of my life." I said this to Julian. I wanted him to remember one thing every time he looked at the screen. Julians breath hitched in his throat. His fingers curled into a fist against his trousers. He stared at me with dark eyes.

I just learnt how to get a hold of my powers, and the witch hunters were going to be here soon. The woman screamed again. The labour was proving difficult. I could hear the baby straining. It was a girl. I had to think fast, so I did the only thing I could do. “Sameli”. I whispered into the air and everyone fell asleep. I walked slowly to the pregnant woman. She was asleep too. I woke her up. It was dangerous for the Baby. She opened her eyes slowly, and they were the prettiest blue eyes I had ever seen. I saw worry etched on her face. Her veins popping out and going in. Pain. She was in pain.

Chapter 8 - The Watcher “The woman was blind according to the information provided, correct?” a man in his thirties stood against a lamppost across a grocery store, a phone against his left ear as he watched Georgia through the glass wall of the store, taking a bag of goods she just paid. “Yes, you have been watching her all this time and now you are asking?” a harsh voice snapped over the phone, laced with irritation. “Of course, she’s blind! She wears a blindfold due to her disgusting eyes.”

"The watcher has witnessed many equinoxes. But this year—this year it is witnessing with us. With all of us." Clara leaned her head on Morwen's shoulder. "The watcher is witnessing through us. We are its eyes now. Its hands. Its heart." The gold flowers pulsed, and the watcher's attention was soft and warm. Yes, the watcher said. You are my witnesses. My keepers. My garden. --- The story was not over. The story was just beginning. End of Chapter 117

Then she looked at Lilly, who was watching her with those clear, bright, recovered eyes — eyes that had once been dark, that had once stared at nothing, that now saw everything. She nodded. “Yes,” she said quietly. “It is.“​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

A thousand eyes followed her as she walked the bridge, the cheers of the people masked behind veils of pity and curiosity. Among them stood Ryder Coldclaw, his amber eyes fixed on her as he watched the procession. His gaze was sharp, calculating, a predator eyeing prey. He didn’t flinch, not even when their eyes met across the distance. Eva forced a neutral expression, but beneath her composed exterior, her mind raced. Her pulse quickened, the bitter taste of iron in the back of her throat. He was dangerous. She could sense it in the way his stare held her, like a wolf sizing up its next move.

And Titus yelled, "What are you staring at? Get to work immediately!" I blinked the teardrop away from my eyes as I went back to working on the farm. We weren't allowed to drink any water until we finished clearing all the weeds. By the time I was done weeding a large hectare of land, I was breathing heavily and sweating profusely. "Damn it." I collapsed on the soil and saw a pair of dark eyes watching me, but I didn't bother to see who it was. A part of me knows who owned those eyes that had been watching me work since morning as the sun was so hot and roasting me on the floor.

Just a little. She saw someone above her. Not clearly. Just a shape. Or maybe a shadow. A figure bending over her. She tried to focus, but she couldn't because everything was blurry. But she saw his eyes very clearly. They were blue and glowy. That was the only thing she could see. Blue eyes looking down at her. Nothing else about his face was clear. Just the eyes. Then all of a sudden, it felt like flashes. Like broken pieces of light. Her vision shifted, and she saw an old woman standing to the side. Not close. Not far. Just watching. Silent and still.

A fire. A scream. Silver eyes watching as I burned.

Another tightened his grip on his weapon. Nobody laughed. Nobody dismissed it. Because everyone could feel it. The world was changing. Then the fracture widened. Only slightly. But enough. Something moved behind it. The entire wall fell silent. My heart stopped. Because for a brief moment I saw an eye. Massive. Golden. Watching. Not through the crack. Behind it. The eye blinked once. The fracture immediately sealed. Gone. Vanished. As though it had never existed. The storm remained. The rain remained.