Nightmares Are Fun

Ever since Mia Cassidy could remember her father had never batted an eye at her. He completely ignored her. His abusive sights set on her poor mother. She always heard them at night. They would yell and scream at one another. Things would be broken, and then for a moment silence. But then her mother would start screaming. Not in anger, but in agony. Bruises traced all along her mother's body, from head to toe. It had always been a losing battle for her mother. So one night when her father Dave went out for a drink Mia tip-toed down stairs to grab something sweet. Her mother and her would relish the moments when he was gone. They would talk, laugh, and act like nothing was wrong. Not that night.

Her mother wasn't in the kitchen so Mia walked for the living room, thinking maybe her mom was already starting a movie. Mia saw the end of a revolver pointed at her left eye. She looked up at her mother's crazed expression.

"Mommy what's wrong?" she innocently asked. Her mother's hand trembled as she put her finger over the trigger.

"Mommy loves you Mia, always remember that." And she pulled the trigger. Mia awoke to lights and sirens around her, a paramedic leaning over her crying out in astonishment as she sat up. Police officers surrounded her. She looked at them all curiously with one question on her lips.

"Where's my mommy?" The paramedic took her in her arms, and told her that her mommy had gone somewhere far away. Somewhere nice. Mia just sat and stared. Later on when the police were leaving the paramedic was talking to a lone officer waiting for Dave to get home.

"She was dead you know." the paramedic whispered.

"What?" the woman looked at the officer uncomfortably.

"She had been shot through her left eye. The bullet went straight through her head. Her eye had been gone. But when she sat up, it was like nothing ever happened her eye was back and everything. But you know what I noticed?" The cop looked a the woman like she was crazy but went with it.

"What?"

"Her right eye had been brown, but the left was a lavender."

(Present day)

That had been five years ago. Now at a week away from being fifteen I now felt the wrath of my father. The beatings never hurt any less, but they never got any worse either. Maybe Dave was finally getting to old for it. But that didn't stop the bruises from trailing up and down my frail body. Being only five two my father had an enormous advantage over me. I was smaller by height and by weight, and I was only ninety pounds. He would throw me around the house, crashing into whatever was hanging from the walls, and then beat me as punishment for "breaking" everything.

One night when my birthday was only two nights away I had finally had enough. He came at me with his usual threats and the belt in his hand showed trouble brewing. Behind me on the stove was a frying pan heating up on the open flame for me to cook his food. I grabbed the handle and turned on him. I only got him in the face once before he had it knocked to the floor. He grabbed me by my hair, and whispered in my ear his breath smelling like beer and shots.

"Feisty, just like your mamma. You wanna play with fire princess, fine. Let's play!" he took my face and put it in front of the left on stove flame. If he hadn't been holding my hair back it would have caught fire. But no, he had something different planned.

"That left eye o' yours just don't match the other one. Let's even that out shall we." he tilted my left eye towards the flame. All I remember after that was hearing the popping sound of my flesh beginning to burn.

I woke up the next morning in my room. I ran for the door. Locked! He must have pad locked it from the outside. Considering I was on the second floor I didn't want to risk breaking my leg, at least not yet. I tried to remember what went on last night, the memory blurry from me waking. Then...MY EYE! I ran to my mirror hanging in the corner. I stayed a distance at first afraid of what the damage could be, but I could still see out of my right eye, so that must have been a good sign. I looked into the mirror get closer and closer until I noticed it. My once brown right eye had turned a lovely hazel, yellow.

Not a single scar lay on my face. It looked as if it had...never happened. I looked from my left eye that was the lavender to the right that was the hazel/yellow. With my pale skin and black ringlet hair. What a match. Note my sarcasm if you please. I was never a pretty girl no matter what my friends told me. I felt awkward in my own skin at times. This just made it even more awkward. I sat back on my bed heavily. Trying to adjust to the difference. My father had told me that my mom shot me and I got the lavender. Her burned me and I got the mixed yellow.

Both had attempted to kill me, but for different reasons. Both times I had lived and an eye changed. What was this? A knock at my door made me jump. Dave came in with a tray of food. A sheepish grin on his face.

"Hey sweety just thought I'd bring my princess food." I backed instinctively against the wall. Princess?

"Oh yeah that reminds me, happy birthday! Looks who's already fifteen!" he walked over and wrapped me in his arms. He smelled like liquor and whore.

"You know you look just like your mamma with your hair and all. But your eyes are a little different. But that's what makes you sexy." suddenly I was pulled from the wall and pushed onto my bed. He sat on top of me and began to undo my button up shirt. I screamed and tried to punch at him, but he acted like he didn't even feel it.

"Yup, hehehe just like your mamma, I could just eat you up." Oh shit, this was really happening. My own father was trying to... I just couldn't think of it. Abusive bastard that her was I just found the idea impossible. That's when the panic finally set it. With newfound adrenaline rushing through my veins I pushed him off with all the strength I had. The closest blunt object was my bedside lamp. I leapt up and grabbed it. Bludgeoning Dave in the head a couple times took him out.

I ran to the door. Still locked DAMN! I turned to my window. I ran to it and pulled out the screen. I looked at Dave, and felt...nothing. No sympathy, or love, or even pity.

"Good riddance." I spit at him. I jumped from the window.

An hour later

Somehow I had made it out the window without breaking anything. I ran across town to a friends home. I didn't knock or walk to the door. At all my friends' homes I hid a small amount of money and a note. If I ever took the money out I would leave the note for them telling them that I was okay and gone from town. I also asked them in the notes to not tell Dave where I went. But left them an address if they needed me. Or if Dave tried to come looking for me. Usually the letter would reach me before he did, and I would be home. Telling him that he was drunk again, and then getting hit in the head. This time. I left no address or number. Just put that I was leaving, and not coming back. I knew they would understand. Dave never got in trouble for hurting me or my mom. He was after all a cop. Just not a good one.

I went from the friend's home to the bus station. I had just enough money stashed to where I wanted to be. After all grandma was expecting me. She lived a state over from me, on the coast near the sea. I sat in my bus seat hoping beyond hope that she would be home when I got there.

"This seat taken?" I looked up surprised. A boy of maybe thirteen stood before me. Black hair shaggy hair was brushed away from his eyes, and sunglasses covered them.

"No go ahead." he sat down heavily, and put his backpack between his legs.

"Where you headed?" he asked nonchalantly. I looked at him. Suspicion edging at me, but I brushed it off, he looked ok I guess.

"To the coast, going to visit family." he smiled brightly.

"I'm heading there too! But I'm just coming back from visiting family. I'm really held up on my work." I looked at him a little surprised. This guy was probably if anything thirteen years old. What kind of job could he be working?

"my names Richard what's yours?" he stuck his hand out, and I impulsively took it smiling at his contagious grin.

"Mia nice to meet you." he nodded his smile growing wider.

"I like your eyes, contacts?" I shook my head and he whistle in astonishment. I giggled at his reaction. It had been the first time I had laughed in years, but it felt good and his aura made me comfortable. He reached into his bag and pulled out a deck of cards.

"You know how to play poker?"

/

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