Eyes,
Windows of My Soul
By: Neo-Queen
Serenity
E-mail:
serenausako@hotmail.com
Webpage: http://www.oocities.org/Tokyo/Shrine/6436
Since the first
time I ever glanced into a mirror, I was utterly convinced that I wasn’t
beautiful. In fact, I was an
ordinary girl. Some members of my
relatives told me I was a homely girl when I as much younger, and it broke my
heart.
Every girl in my
tenth grade had amazing blond hair and mesmerizing blue eyes that were so close
to perfection. I envied them. My mother had luxury, sun-kissed hair
which resembled a waterfall of pure gold.
To my secretive observation, it gave her a sense of motherly-caring when
those lovely curls stumbled down to frame her soft cheeks. And I, misfortunately inherited my
father’s dark curly chestnut color.
Though they were thick and rich, but I seemed like an alien when standing
in front of other girls in comparison.
As to my eyes, I absolutely hated them. They weren’t bright, clear, luminous
blue orbs like those described of a fairy tale princess, full of depth, wit and
romance. They were dull, dark green
eyes which made me almost...evil looking.
Perhaps to my comfort, I had long, thick lashes framing my insignificant
eyes so it’d bring out some shade of jade green. But overall, I wasn’t
satisfied.
I had very little
friends in school. Honestly
speaking, I had none. Mostly, I
suspected it was due to the flaws of my homely appearance, because I was so much
different from everyone else. When
many of my classmates spend their lunch talking about boys and new movies, I’d
snick into a quiet corner with a book on my lap. Eating lunch, trying to focus on the
story I was reading and forget about all around me, I pretended that I didn’t
care about their friendship. But
seriously, I do. During weekend
dances when girls decorated their beautiful hair and tried on their best dresses
to show each other off, I’d hid at home and tried to study. Many of them thought I never cared about
dancing or having fun, or that I was a nerd who can’t do anything but become a
bookworm. But who said I wanted to
be alone from everyone else and hiding when all girls were having fun? Yet I can’t, I was
an...outsider.
Girls in my class
often told jokes about my appearance, such as the "ugly shade of her hair",
"evil green eyes", and "bookworms".
I pretended I didn’t hear them, but I was deeply hurt. Every time, I felt very humble, ugly and
unwelcome. They made me a common
laughter. Hurts would erupt
whenever I walk cautiously down the hall ways so I couldn’t disturb any unwanted
attention. But no matter how hard I
tried, malicious whispers and insults hurled at me mercilessly. Sometimes I tried to think all of those
as a mere nightmare and I’d only hallucinated the whole matter, everything would
go back to normal when I wake up. Thought I knew I am the one most likely to be
hallucinating if I ever discovered my chestnut colored hair turned into sun-gold
if I stare into a mirror. But it
haunted my like a never-drift away cloud, hanging over my head every
moment.
I loathed my hair
and eyes for many years from childhood.
It was them which made me different from everyone else and unwanted
outsider. My face was too thin, too
pale to call it beautiful; my nose was too little that it didn’t stay in
proportion to the rest of my face; my eyes never possessed a slight shade of
ocean-blue. Because of that, I
seldom glanced into a mirror except when times I absolutely had to, fearing to
experience the disappointment at the sight of my thin and pale
form.
Of all people,
only one of them regarded me as a friend..
He was in my class. I was
reluctant to befriend with him at first, but since he was the only person who
had cared to approach me, and he wasn’t snobby like all other girls, I accepted
him.
His face was too
rugged and tough to be handsome, though I rather prefer not to call him
homely. His manner was sometimes
harsh, but often very tender in contrast.
He had very thick mid-night dark hairs which were very different from
other boy’s sandy blond and curly brown.
His eyes, they were the shade of soul-bearing gray. I thought I hated gray eyes then,
because it gave me a feeling that color was too dull and when a person with gray
eyes gazing at you, you’d feel like been stared right through. But I changed my opinion when I met
him. His eyes were mesmerizing gray
ones full of depth and glowing with wit.
Most of all, there was certain harshness in his squared chin which gave
him an iron determination.
He was very
intelligent and talkative, to my great relief. I soon found him
interesting. I couldn’t remember
more specifically how our friendship really started, but for one thing I am
plenty sure of was that I enjoyed his company a great deal. We talked about anything our mind could
come up with and made it vivid with mirth and laughter. I was often amazed by his ability to
speech and entertain.
It seemed that he
had been rejected from our school’s little society for the reason he was not
good-looking as well, or it could it his dislike to befriend with them. But we didn’t care at all, we’d make
jokes, helping the time past faster and laugh gold into the air. All occurred to me was that I really
trusted him and shared my feelings with him. After all, he was my best friend,
perhaps the only good friend I ever had. Sometimes, it made me wonder what made
me, a homely girl so attractive to him that he chose me as a friend, rather than
a bunch of beautiful girls. But he
always assured me that he liked me for my ability and talent, not my poor
appearance. Flattered was I,
because that was the first compliment I received from someone beside my
mother. Finally, someone made an
effort to judge me based on what I truly am.
Time grew
on. I felt I just couldn’t live
without him. I relied on his
judgement, his opinion, as if my whole life depended on him. But for one thing I am certain of, he
has a good heart. Rescuing me
everything when I was caught up in a storm of embarrassment, he also offered me
a shoulder to cry on. He’d rid me
of all the humiliations when he volunteered to dance with me every spring
festival and diverse my troubled mind with dashing humor, so other girls
wouldn’t have anything to gossip about.
When members of my class spent their time applying make-ups and worry
about their body fats, I’d sit with him on a bench in the school yard or have a
long walk along the quiet little river, truly enjoying the poetic and tender
atmosphere of friendship.
Soon I turned
eighteen. Mom dressed me up with a
dress she bought for me last weekend.
It was a simple designed black velvet gown. There was nothing fancy about this
dress, since I got used to very plain and simple clothing long time ago. I sat in a chair, without even bother to
give a single glance into the mirror at my reflection, while my mother did my
hair. Because I knew, no matter
what I wear or how beautiful my hair was styled, I was still an insignificant
girl who deserved no much attention.
Mother told me I looked beautiful when she finished, but I knew she only
said so to comfort me, like she always did. I said thank you and left to face my
high school graduation.
Something strike
me differently when I entered the auditorium. Some of the girls who criticized me
from head and toe just a few days
ago turned around to look at me and gasped with envy and awe. I thought I was hallucinating. Because they looked wonderfully
stunning. And I must look awful.
All girls were all in their best gown for this rare occasion, their blond curls
startling shiny under the lights. Even their amazing blue eyes were brought out
by thick layers of eye shadows, and I had no make-up on. I did not have the
slightest idea what they were discovering.
For one thing I was certain, I was humble in
comparison.
I was somehow
pleased when the principal presented me the medal with the highest honor. At least, those long, tormenting hours I
spent study had not gone wasted. I
knew I deserved it, I earned it.
The dance
started. I was looking for him
then, because it had occurred to me that since the moment I arrived in school, I
haven’t yet seem a sign of him.
There was something unusual strike me again. Many students again turned to look at
me, with confused admiration. I was
confused. They wouldn’t possibly
envy me because of the medal, there must be something else they were discovering
on me. It made me slightly embarrassed.
Then, something else happened which made me more uneasy. Several very popular boys approached me
and tried to invite me to dance. I
was startled and flattered and surprised at the same thing. ME? Those boys had never bothered to give a
single glance in my direction, even if they did, it was more of disgust and
mockery. I thought it was my turn
to dreamor I must fell into an unforgivable imagination of
madness.
Just as I was
torn between disbelief and confusion, someone approached me, "May I have this
dance?" It was a voice deep of wisdom.
He smiled politely as he cut in.
I winked and let him led me to the dance floor as others reluctantly went
away.
The moment I
looked up at his face, I cursed myself for ever mentioning that he was
plain. He was everything but plain
and ordinary. The tuxedo he was wearing made him something very powerful and
demanding, it empathized his broad shoulders, which provided a sense of security
and loyalty. He looked down at my
dazed face, mischief twinkled in those startling gray eyes. His black hair were streaked with
amazing shades of brown under the luminous light. Then I noticed for the first
time that there were certain indefinable emotions hidden in the depth of those
gray gaze which settled intensively on me.
I blushed. He chuckled at my
obvious shyness and held me tighter on the waist, as I suddenly realized the
indescribable emotion I previously discovered were pride and admiration. He smiled down at me again and mentioned
me to follow him outside.
So I did.
He paced beside
me in silence. I tried to start a
conversation but fear to ruin the atmosphere when he appeared to be very
thoughtful. After painful long
minutes of waiting he broke the silence.
"You are
wonderful tonight. I am proud." He
looked up at the dark sky instead at me like he usually
did.
"Thank you." I
said shyly.
"You are
beautiful, most girls were startled, boys were amazed."
I was
confused. For once, someone thought
I look beautiful. And OTHER girls
had thought I look nice as well? Sensing my doubt, he told me
more.
"Yes you
are. You should have noticed
it. I admire the way how you
handled yourself." He stopped a little, cracking me with a heart-warming smile I
had not discovered which exited in the handsome planes of his
face.
"You didn’t look
bad." I didn’t know how to react to the way he complimented me, so I decided to
go on and praise him.
"Really? I
thought I’d make a fool of myself trapped in this tuxedo." He chuckled, playing
with his tie a little.
"You look-almost
like someone else. I am proud of
you."
"How charming! We
are both proud of each other." He looked down at me, his eyes regarded me with
genuine interest. "You look wonderful."
"Me?" I said,
disbelieving.
"Did you look
into a mirror before leaving?" He suddenly asked, that mesmerizing smile never
leaving his lips.
"No." I bitterly
admitted. "I didn’t want to look at something that’s always...the
same."
"Come with me."
He reached for my hand and started to walk back to our
school.
Then I knew why
he brought us back. In front of the
front foyer near the main entrance, the school had a full-length mirror, which I
numerous times avoided in the past few years when I got
in.
He led me there,
urging me to look. Reluctantly taking a glance, I gasped.
I thought I never
believed that the ugly duckling could one day become a beautiful swan, but what
I saw proved me wrong.
My reflection,
wasn’t the pale, sick girl I loathed.
In fact, I looked taller than I thought I’d be, the black dress suited me
extremely well, even if that was nothing fancy about the design. One look at my hair, I didn’t want it to
be blond any more. They were rich
and thick in texture, wavering down to land in a soft array of molten copper
around my shoulder, shining like a dark halo. And my poor, insignificant eyes
looked wonderful with my thick eye lashes, casting a small shadow on my rosy,
soft cheeks. They looked
expressive, clear and radiant with intelligence. Under the light, even my skin seemed
fair. I stared at my reflection in
utter disbelief. That was ME? I
even managed to look...beautiful.
It certainlywas a very unfamiliar wording to my ears. But I couldn’t believe
it.
"I told you," He
came up behind me and the pressure on my shoulder increased, "you look very
beautiful."
I looked up at
him in the mirror. Admiration and
pride glimmered in those hard gray eyes again.
"Perhaps it’s
time you start to believe in yourself and gain confident in your appearance." He
told me. I felt like a little child
listening in awe.
"But I look-" I
gazed at my face again, still couldn’t registered the fact that was my own
face.
"beautiful." He
simply stated. "Even if you hadn’t had this beauty. You still have something to be proud
of," he gently pulled at my arm where I was holding the medal I received. "This is your REAL
pride."
"Thank
you."
"Don’t ever lose
faith in yourself. If you believe,
you can call yourself ten times better than everyone else." He gently turned me
around and looked at me tenderly.
"Those eyes, even
if they are not the striking and amazing blue ones you wanted them to be," he
smiled, "but they represent your own character and personality. Eyes, they are windows of your soul."
Then he lowered his head and kissed me.
Later that night,
I walked home alone. Admiring the
beautiful scenery of summer’s night, I thought I gained a great deal. First, I proved myself worthy to reach
something brilliant; second, I found out I wasn’t at all very humble and ugly
like I thought I’d be; at last, I had a great friendship and received my first
kiss.
I started
skipping when home was in sight, remembering his last words: Eyes, they are
windows of you soul...
THE
END.
Neo-Queen Serenity's Crystal Tokyo was originally established on August 18th, 1998.
It is owned and operated by Neo-Queen Serenity
