Beyond the Iris

Damaging Flames

Mom and Dad were yelling again. I could hear their screams echoing around the house like cannon shots. I covered my little brother, Matthew’s, ears, trying to block out the voices.

“Sing to me, Karlee. Please. I can’t hear them when you sing.” His soft voice was a whisper, still beautiful, even though he was already fourteen. He could sing better than I, but I humored him.

“What song?” Matthew giggled, and squeezed my hands. “The one about the demons, and how you defeat them.” I smile, then start singing. “When the days are cold, and the cards all fold, and the saints we see are all made of gold.” I sing on, my voice rising in pitch and beauty. Demons, by Imagine Dragons.

I don’t hear my parents stop arguing, or them coming up the stairs. I don’t hear them open my door, or sense them standing in the doorway. I just sing, my voice elevating the verses, and lilting over the lines like water.

“They say it’s what you make, I say it’s up to fate. It’s woven in my soul, I need to let you go. Your eyes, they shine so bright. I want to save that light. I can’t escape this now, unless you show me how-.”

I break off, finally sensing the two people standing in the doorway. I bow my head, fire rising to my cheeks. Matthew scrambles off my lap, leaving for his room. Mom and Dad let him go, keeping their eyes on me, their disgraceful daughter.

Once Matthew was in his room, Dad closed the door. Mom stood with her arms folded, her perfect skin gleaming in last fading sunlight coming through my window. Dad frowned at me, his black eyebrows knit together into a V.

“We’ve told you a thousand times not to sing to him. He’s perfect. He doesn’t need to know songs that’ll bewitch his mind.” Dad’s voice was iron, just as Mom’s eyes were steel. All the anger in the room was palpable, but no one except me seemed to notice.

I kept quiet; I knew better than to speak. A bruise on my side started to throb at the memory of the last time I had spoken out of turn. Mom stepped forward, then grabbed my hair, pulling my head up. I didn’t scream at the sudden sharp pain.

I sensed her raise her fist, speckled with bright jewels. Dad didn’t say anything as the punch came, striking my cheek. The silver rings cut my skin, leaving thin trails of red. I whimpered a bit, but bit my tongue.

Dad kneeled next to me, taking my chin in his grasp. I imagined his eyes glittering with amusement, and tried something that I hadn’t for years. I did something that I called quaying.

My mind reached for Dad’s, entwining around it like a serpent. I struck, my mind seeking the parts of his brain that enabled sight and thought. In a flash, I saw what Dad saw, and heard his thoughts.

Before me sat a girl, a thin thing of twenty-four. Her pale skin was turned even whiter by the sunlight, and the white tile of the floor was starting to be speckled with red blood. Her hair was a peculiar thing, with blond bangs that darkened to brown, then finally to black as it traveled down her scalp.

But the strangest thing was her eyes. Vivid, beautiful, deadly. Green, from the darkest emerald to the lightest yellow. Star bursts of light over dark forest, of sparkling emerald over the darkest of green-blacks. But her pupils were blue. The left was a dark blue, almost the color of the night sky. The right was the color of ice, with thin strands of sky to separate the icebergs.

She seemed to stare straight at me, even though that was impossible. Her cheek would have scars on it, but that wasn’t my concern. My concern was focused on her power, on the power that she had once shown, many years ago. When she had spoken into my mind...

I unwrapped my mind from Dad’s brain, leaving the sight that I lost long ago behind. Darkness shrouded my vision once more, but my senses returned to their normal heightenedness. I kept my gaze on the man that had no care for me. Who only cared about the power that I possessed in my body and mind.

Dad let go of my chin, then stood, and opened the door. Mom left, her short hair swaying slightly. Dad smiled at me, but it was a cold smile, full of malicious joy at seeing my blood. “Oh, yes, Karlee. Clean up the blood. I don’t want red stains on my tiles.” Dad left, laughing slightly.

I sighed, then got up and went to the bathroom to fetch my red towel, once white, but turned red from the years.

Matthew was silent at dinner, his eyes glued to his plate. My messy cleanup of my cheek made eating hard, as each opening of my mouth caused the horrible stitches to break a little more.

Mom was to my right, eating a salad like normal. Dad was across from me, eating a steak. Matthew was barely touching his steak, even though I could hear his stomach growling like a pack of wolves. I had already devoured my meager portion of steak, along with most of the salad and bread.

“Eat, Matt. Steak’s good for you,” I said, trying to cheer him up. My cheek burned, and I felt the blood beginning to trickle down my jaw. Matthew looked at me, but I sensed his eyes were on the blood.

Dad huffed, then set down his napkin. “Karlee, clean up the blood. Matthew, eat. Honey, eat something besides salad.” I bow my head in acknowledgment, then shuffle upstairs. I hear Matthew’s chair scrape the floor, and his feet following me up the stairs to the bathroom in my room.

I turn on the water faucet as Matthew gets the towel. I take off the white-now red-bandages from my cheek, and soak the red towel in the warm water. I dab at the blood streaming from my cheek, flinching at the sharp pain it brought me when I hit the scratches.

I handed Matthew the needle and thread, and turned my cheek to face him. He shivered, but put the cold metal to my skin, and started to sew my cuts shut. After a while, I turned towards the mirror, even though I couldn’t see it.

Matthew sighed, then sat down on the floor, putting the red towel in the tub. “I don’t like you getting hurt, sis. It scares me.” Startled by the word sis, I almost missed the depressed tone of Matthew’s voice. I kneeled next to my brother, and wrapped him in a hug.

“They won’t hurt you, Matt. They love you. You’re perfect. I’m-I’m not. I’m ruined.” Matthew turned towards me, and I felt a hot spike of anger come off of him.

You’re just as bad as they are! You aren’t ruined! You’re perfectly fine! I wish you guys would stop saying that!”

I unwrapped my arm from the boy’s shoulders. I looked him in the eye, and said,”It’s true. I’m ruined. There’s no changing that. Now, get out. I need sleep for tomorrow. It’s a long plane ride.” Matthew stood, then stormed out of my bathroom, taking his anger with him.

I went to my bed, and climbed under my thin covers. I shivered as I lay on my right side, letting my muscles relax. As my conscience sank into the blackness of dreams, red blazed before my vision, bringing pain with it.

A boy stood before me, his hand linked with mine. Flames blazed on either side of him, shaping into wings. His dark blue eyes gleamed, and the alien emotion in them was hard to decipher. I reached out my hand, taking the boy’s in mine. His flaming wings expanded into a wall, barring my way.

I turned, and saw Matthew, for the first time, actually. My vision, given to me in my dreams, told me that Matthew was a thin boy, with large brown eyes and tousled black hair. The wall of fire hit Matthew square in the chest, burning his clothes and flesh.

I screamed, turning back towards the boy that was causing these damaging flames. He looked at me, the alien emotion still in his eyes. He whispered,”Only from the darkness inside does the flame of love ever bloom. The demons inside you have no place to live, so set them free.” I whisper back,”Love is a dream, and darkness is a friend. And the demons inside me have a home, though I shalln’t harm anyone with their freedom.”

The boy laughed, and the flaming wings encircled me, pulling me closer to him. I closed my eyes, willing the vision to disappear. I opened my eyes, but the boy was still there, still smiling, still having the emotion in his eyes.

“I haven’t met you, yet, Karlee. But I sense that we will be amazing friends.” I shook my head, and let go of the boy’s hand. I turned to run, and found a way through the flames. I ran, looking back only once. The boy now held a baby girl in his arms, who waved pudgy fists at me. I blinked away sudden tears, and kept running.