Girl With the Silver Dragon Eyes

1. Memories

       Dragon eyes...thats what people called me in my small town in Kentucky. Why? Well ever since I was born I had enchanting eyes that seemed to shine even at night. My pupils almost looked like slits, hence my nickname.
       Dragon eyes, some taunted me from behind curtains with this name. Others used this name to show respect, but I'd rather just be called my real name. As if it wasn't magical it'self...
       I don't know what my mother was thinking when she named me Nyx. I know she was a rare person, but I would like to have a more normal name. I don't like sticking out of the crowd, but mom would say I was born to stand out.  I guess I couldn't argue with that, I always stood out. Even when I didn't mean to.
          It takes me back to the time when I was 5, preschool... I was in a play about a girl moving to a new school. She was a strange girl, like me. Maybe that's why they chose to put my part as the girl. Her name was Sandra, she had bright neon green hair, naturally. I never knew how a person would have natural neon green hair, but then again I'm the one to talk when I have slits as pupils... She was bullied often and was given the nickname slime. Maybe because bright color reminded them of slime toys and whatnot. They have me a wig and I played my part, because I knew how the character felt like because I deal with the same thing. It all came natural, the same went for the children with the bullying parts. My bullies, but none the less I did a fair job at acting.
            I never knew how much that play would be replayed in my mind over my lifetime. As I got older it played over and over again more and more. The older I got the more I forgot, memory after memory disappeared. Only a few from my childhood remained. I don't know why my memory is fading, I'm only 14...
          One of my memories that I can remember is when I witnessed the death of my mother... I was only 3 when her long black hair turned crimson as the blood from her neck covered the floor. My hands covered in her blood, my eyes flooded with tears, my heart shattered  as the bandit stared in shock at the scene he just created. My screams filling the air as even sirens couldn't rage louder than me. My mother's life stole from her forcefully from her grasp for a few...Diamonds...
          They tired to shield me from the scene but my innocence spared me no longer, the ignorance I lived in for years was no longer there. I realised more than I should've but it was bound to happen. We live in a beautiful world, but people make society horrible. We destroy ourselves and everything around us.
        My father was none to bright and tended to point fingers. This time he pointed them at me... He said if I hadn't had gotten out of bed that night to get some water my mother wouldn't had died. The bandit would've token what he came for and left. We could've replaced jewelry but you can't replace a life. She heard me scream that night and came to protect me... Maybe it was my fault but I never asked to lose my mother. Over the years my relationship with my father deteriorated, and soon I felt nothing to him.
           School was my get away for the yelling and torment from my father, but it was no walk in the park. Everywhere I went I was taunted, stared at, and judged. Children ran from me and hid, Parents gasp, and teens snickered. I never asked to look so demonic but I guess these things can't be helped...
          There was another memory that always seems to flood my mind. Maybe the only memory that I can call on that is happy. I was 6 and the death of my mother set in like the morning fog. I couldn't see a way out and it never seemed to let up. Forced to go to school I made my way down the long school hallways with my head to the ground... "Hey!" One of my classmates taunted and sneered as I look up. "Dragon eyes Dragon eyes!" She sing songed as her friends and herself skip around me. Her name was Brianna, she was very tall for her age and intimidating to me. She was a popular kid and I was an outcast. Someone who she could taunt mercilessly without getting in trouble.
          Quite sure I'd get a beating I stood there motionless. Until I heard her voice. "Leave her alone you sorry scum!" She sneered at Brianna and her crowd of prissy girls. I had never seen this girl before, she had to be around my age. She had short brown hair just a little to short to be a pixie cut. She wore masculine clothing and had a scar on her hand, a large scar. Like me she was small but she made the phrase " dynamite comes in small packages" come alive. I don't remember what happened after that buy she's now my best friend. She was almost the complete opposite of me. She's a skinny giant now, while I am a curvy shortstack. She still has very short brown hair while I have long pastel rainbow dyed hair.
         She wears overalls with a white shirt under and sneakers, I wear Black shirts and skater skirts with healed boots or sneakers. She does martial arts, and I visual arts. She makes B's and C's, and I make A's. She's strong, yet I am weak. I don't know what I'd do without her, she has made my life from bitter to sweat. My memories with e her face but that's why I write my memories, so I can remember and recall.