Izabelle's Eyes

Even after hearing his mother knock on his open door, Sebastian didn't look away from the ceiling as he lay down on his bed. "Hey, honey. I brought you some dinner." She said gently, walking into the room with caution, afraid of upsetting him further. "I'm just gonna put it on your desk. Okay?" He still didn't respond. His mother sighed with sorrowful defeat. After setting the tray down on his desk, she turned toward him and said, "I'll be back to get your food in a little while." She paused. "Please eat your dinner, Sebastian. You need it." Once again being ignored, she slowly left the room, lingering as much as she could as she closed the door behind her.

Sebastian lifted his head off of his pillow, propped his elbows up, and leaned back. Across the room on his desk sat a tray of cheesy scrambled eggs, sizzling bacon, and fluffy pancakes. A little jar of warm maple syrup sat in the upper right hand corner of the tray and a glass of homemade apple cider in a cup on the opposite side. Sebastian stared at the food with a solemn expression, ignoring the gurgling sounds emitting from his stomach due to the mouthwatering aroma. 

An image began to materialize inside his mind. It was Izabelle, there was no mistaking that. She stood there, smiling at him brightly, her lips painted with her favorite maroon lipstick. The picture in his head almost made him forget, gifting him with a smile he hadn't worn in days. He imagined himself wrapping his arms around her, placing his hands on her hips while she reached up for a kiss. 

Sebastian's eyes snapped open in an instant. The picture had changed.

Now she lay on frigid cement, the ground covered with a thick layer of crimson blood sluggishly oozing out from her stomach. Her dark green eyes, that had once held so much life inside of them, were now staring blankly to the side. The blood had coated the tips of her glistening black hair, forming grizzly new highlights. A man stood over her body, a dark hoodie covering most of his face. The gun in his right hand, however, was perfectly visible. As visible as the malicious grin he wore while he stared at the masterpiece he had just created.

Sebastian laid back down on his back, his elbows shaking too much to be able to support him for much longer. As much as he tried to fight it, tears began to swell up in his eyes, falling rapidly down the sides of his face. The more and more he cried, the more he thought about never being able to hold her again, never hearing her voice. And the last thing he said to her? That was just too unbearable to even consider letting into his head. The guilt was too strong, too overpowering.

"Leave me alone! Never talk to me again! I mean it.

"I hate you, Izabelle."