>If I concentrate, I can still remember the touch of his hands on my face. Huge, rough and black, clasping my head tight, slowly squeezing. The headaches came back to me just thinking about it. But every time I'm alone, all I have to do is close my eyes or let my mind wander and suddenly I'm back there. Back on the grass, on my back, eyes shut in a desperate attempt to stay alive, to not provoke this creature further. The panic wracks my body, leaving me shaking and horrified on the floor, damp with sweat and dripping saliva.<
>Yet I saved him. Out in the rain, I saw him teleporting, stumbling about with his hands over his head, that familiar scream louder than the thunder that pursued him. I saw his flesh steaming, peeling where the rain hit the flesh. And did I wonder about whether to go out there or not? Did I stop to think about it? No. No, I did not. I almost wish I had, just so I would have some reason why I did what I did, running out in the worst storm I could remember, throwing my quilt around his dying body, hauling him back indoors, feeling him go limp.<
>Why save someone who just wants you dead? Why bother helping someone who hates you so badly? All I can do is sit by his bed, watching him groan and cry out in his sleep, and wonder if I was just the doormat everyone says I am, or if I made the right choice. When he woke, I couldn't look at him. Even with his eyes closed, I couldn't look at him. I'm still scared. He reached out and for a second I nearly froze. His hands terrify me.<
>But I saved him. But I keep taking care of him. Day in and day out, I checked his wounds, cleaned what I could, assured his friend it would all be okay. I even tried to learn his name. What am I thinking? Why am I trying?<
>And now. Now I'm in my kitchen, sitting behind the smoker, waiting for them to finish eating. And I'm staring at the opposite wall, wondering what's going on. All these questions and doubts and conflictions whirling in my mind, louder than the thunder on that eventful day. I don't know what to say to myself. I don't know what I'm doing or why or how it's going to end. I just know I'm trying to do what I can to survive...<
>I came here long ago. I was just a kid. I ran away from a home I didn't ever want to go back to. I found this world. This land. These waters and mountains and valleys. I found the sun. I found...I found friends. People who helped get me set up. People who praised me, told me I was good from the start, that I knew what I was doing. Only I didn't really. I just gathered and planted and harvested and built. All with the idea of something safer and better than what I left. Nothing more. Is that knowing what I'm doing? I had no plans beyond that.<
>Mobs were a constant problem. My friends showed me what to do with them, how they never spawned in the light, how their parts were useful. I found that skeletons were annoying but easily killed. If you could call it killing. Zombies gave themselves away by groaning and growling and they just kept coming. Creepers scared me so bad I ran when I saw one. But Endermen were fascinating. Tall and black with purple eyes, teleporting anywhere and doing nothing unless provoked. Sometimes I saw them holding a piece of dirt covered in grass. I didn't like the idea of killing them, so I just...avoided it. The others eventually stopped asking me if I had Ender eyes.<
>Time went by and I felt safe here. I don't even remember my parents much anymore. I hardly recall my school or the car my mother drove. This is all I want and this is the only home I'll ever need. Living here was easy. It didn't take much to build, to plant and grow. I'm wealthier now than I would ever have been back where I came from. It was fun. Like a game.<
>And then some Enderman walked into my house not once but several times, taking my things, rooting through my chests like no other had done before. I was intrigued. I liked the sounds he made, the way he stared at me, daring me to look at him. I never took him seriously until I was on the ground. What was I thinking? And now he's in my home....<
YOU ARE READING
Look me in the Eyes
MaceraThe world of Minecraft has always been a dangerous place. Lava bubbles up from the earth or slowly crawls down rocky cliffs, pitfalls and caverns yawn in unexpected places in the earth, oceans stretch for miles and deserts scorch in the blazing sun...