the evil eye

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Mystery and Crime  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: October 23, 2018

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Submitted: October 23, 2018

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My name is Earl Jenkins. I grew up in the historical town of Boston. My mother was a drunk alcoholic and my dad was always at work. We didn’t have very much money. I was born prematurely, therefore I suffered a defect in my left eye. I was legally blind. The cost of the eye surgery was way out of our budget. The doctor had given us a second option and that was to purchase a glass eye. Just one issue, it was 2x too big. My mother had died from alcoholism when I was a teenager. When I finished school I was hired at a semi decent job. The payouts were definitely reasonable. I continued to live in my parents house and hired a caretaker.

The chiming of the clock had awakened me from a terrible dream. The sweet smell of syrup had filled the morning air.

“Good morning Mr. Jenkins”, a cheerful voice exclaimed.

“Same to you Henry, this smells magnificent” I replied.

There was a peculiar sight in my alphabet cereal. It seems as if there was a message, the letters spelled out, “You’re gonna die”. After seeing this mysterious message, I looked up at Henry and he had given me a strange glare. I thought maybe this was just a strange coincidence. When I was finished with my breakfast I had Henry help me outside so I could sit in my chair outside and watch the trees sway. Of course, it began to rain so I came inside and sat at the table where lunch had been prepared. There was nothing unfortunate(this time), but an unsettling feeling slept in my stomach. I went upstairs to my room to think about all that had happened today. My exhaustion led me to sleep for several hours.

It was 9 P.M. and the climes were chiming again waking me up. As my eyes began to open, I saw as if there were a shadow standing by my door. In my head I thought maybe it was just my eyes adjusting to the darkness. My body had froze in shock because now it was moving closer to me. I hid under my covers hoping this sense of imaginative shadows would go away. It was gone, I don’t know how or why, but it’s gone.

I woke up the next morning and heards strange sounds coming from the hallway. My door was creaking open…. Henry was just standing there watching me. He didn’t move for like an hour. I pretended to be asleep even though I wasn’t. Next thing i know, there’s a pillowcase over my face making me lose consciousness. I knew it, he was after my eye, that’s why he always gave me a glare.

The police had arrived at my door around 9 p.m. Supposedly there were strange squeals coming from my house. Henry had finally answered the door after he calms himself down. Henry had used his charm and persuasion to mask what horrible crime he had just committed. When henry and the 2 cops had went to the bedroom to talk, I made bumps and bangs on the boards, to ensure him that I was still alive. I chuckled demonically watching Henry go absolutely bonkers. His head was filled with craze and madness. The “, in his head drove him to confess his wrong doing. Though the cops wouldn’t listen to him, nor see his tantrum, he’d finally grasp their attention. Worst comes to worst he was escorted to a mental asylum to spend quite a few years alone and isolated. I was just in his head, taunting his soul for what he has done to me.

 


© Copyright 2018 Christian Bridegroom. All rights reserved.

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