2018 Writing Scrapbook

The Technicolored Eyes

The jade and gold flecks in her eyes amounted to nothing as she stood before the gate. Now that her body was deserted, torn and in disrepair amongst the people still on the planet, this new recreation, she could see, was not seeming to work.

The gate did not open.

She clanged and banged at the stone cold metal, seeing that there was a vast, golden light from beyond. She reached her hands through the slats, trying to grasp at it. But open it, she couldn't.

Tears flooded out of her ducts, slipping down her wet cheeks. She gazed at the top of the gate and the heavens above out of habit. "Why can't I be let in?" she cried. "Would somebody please tell me?"

When none of her senses picked up any form of response, she yelled out again, "I have heterochromia! I deserve to be in there!"

Her voice only echoed into the silence, and she began to grow angry. Her patience grew short, and she stomped her foot down on the ground.

"Where are you? Don't you see the color of my eyes? Let me in! Open the gate!" she screamed.

Soon after, she discovered a snake slithering on the stark white ground beneath her. It had copper scales, with a white one here and there. Its eyes were black pits of nothingness. There was no light, no life, no serenity to be found in them.

The girl jumped, startled when she caught sight of the creature. Then it spoke.

"Do not be afraid, dear child. I may be a creature of evil in your realm, but my venom cannot hurt you here," it whispered, voice deep and vibrating.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"My name is irrelevant, but I think that my occupation is of significance. I am the gatekeeper. The judge. The jurisdiction. You are my sole task," it explained.

She brushed away the tears and stared in wonder at the snake, trying to sort out its sudden appearance in her mind. "Certainly you must have other clients, then. You can just let me in and be on your way," she suggested, anxious to seek out the golden light.

The snake circled her ankles, and there was no fear in her at its touch.

"Ah, but dear, as that may be true, the ways of this realm are not as they were for you. There is no time, no space. You are not living or walking. There is no dark, no light, no dimensions."

"Then where am I?" she asked.

"You're nowhere and everywhere," the snake told her. "An immortal being is omnipresent. As such, I am here for you, and your neighbors, and every creature that ever scurried across the planet."

"So I'm already past the gate? I'm already inside?"

"You could think of it that way. This is merely an illusion, for you have never encountered a world without an atmosphere or ground. You have never seen a place without light or darkness. I am merely here as a barrier between you and the knowledge of all the universe."

"Why keep me from it? Why not let me see?" she asked, barely comprehending the world the snake spoke of. She still wasn't entirely sure how it was there, or where she was. It didn't follow the rules of Earth, and this fact confused her.

"No. That's not the correct question. You are not obligated to have a place here. I am not the obstacle. The question is why should I let you in?" it slithered up her arm, its face right in front of hers.

She was wondering if it was blind, or if it just hadn't noticed her eyes yet. When they sat in silence, the snake awaiting a response, she motioned towards this feature. "Isn't it obvious? Look!" she commanded the snake.