The Glass Eye

Chapter 3: Silver Bullet

     "Hey," I said as I got through the door. My dad was standing by the door arms slightly folded. Not too folded though, after ten years my father's arm still never recovered from the bullet he took for me. 

At least, tried to take for me.

   "Hey, is that all you have to say? I was worried about you Rayne. I though something had happened to you out there." he said with the utmost concerning look and the saddest puppy dog eyes one has ever seen. I didn't realized I got home two hours later than I told him. Of course, he would worry, I'm a moron. "I'm sorry dad, I fell asleep on the bus and I had to wait for another." I lied, well that wasn't a complete lie. If only the cold hard ground was a bus, then that would be the truth. "Alright, at least your back at home safely. Your mother fell asleep crying because I wouldn't let her paint the town red looking for you." He laughed, and so did I. My mother was bat shit crazy.

As we hugged, our silver bullets the ones around our neck clung to each other. We laugh again as we tried to untangle them from each other. If you're wondering why we have silver bullet it's from that night. That night my dad's arm got shot, and my eye was replaced with a glass eye. 

We kept the bullets to commemorate how we cheated death.

Yea, yea I know what you're thinking. Why would you keep evidence? Why would you want to remember that scarring moment? Shut up, okay. My uncle is a detective, he gave me the bullets when I ask for them because he said he only needed one bullet to find the culprit. After all, we were shot at three times.

After ten years, he never found the culprit and the bullets didn't leave scars. They left holes. Holes, that even years later, could never be filled. 

After I untangled, myself from my father I quickly ran upstairs."Goodnight!" I yelled as I gently closed my door. I didn't need my mom waking up and questioning me. Even though what I said had holes in it, my dad didn't question me. My mom, on the other hand, was different. 

When I talked to her, it was like playing clue. 

I quickly hopped in the shower and a thought came to me. What happens if I stared into the bullet? I got out the shower, put on clothes, and I hurried back into my room. I stared into the bullet. Nothing happen.

I stared into the bullet with just my glassed eye. Nothing happen.

Maybe I was just dreaming. Maybe I'm just tired. Maybe the platform is too small. 

Oh well, I think it's about time to hop into a real bed....

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