The Color of a Soul

People say eyes are the windows to the soul. It's a ridiculous sentiment. In my opinion people are too complex and often too closed off to be so easily read. I never liked the saying growing up, but of course it is kind of hard to when you are told your entire life to hide your eyes in fear that someday a person will come by and see more than they should in them. For me, my eyes are a reminder of my life's lie. The lie that has defined and controlled me.
Looking at my eyes, my real eyes not the deceiving coloration displayed by color contacts, is always strange. After years of seeing the same dark brown my natural color ends up seeming out of place on my face. Even now staring at myself through the fogged-up glass of my bathroom mirror the sharp contrast is unsettling. I find that even now after so many years the natural hue of my iris still leaves me with a slight feeling of homesickness. It left me longing to see the similar color of my mother's eyes, and her mother's, the color of my country, a home I was too young to really remember, but just old enough to miss. The feeling was bittersweet for every good aspect there was also a bad one that eventually took its place.
My eyes are the only proof and only connection I have to my home, my family, and my birthright as the eldest princess of Lafrain. So, I'm forced to hide them away to protect myself, and my people.
This is going to be the story of the day that I found freedom.
*There will be light cursing, and no update schedule, but I sincerely hope someone out there enjoys reading this story as much as I love writing it. Sending out all my love.*