I Have His Eyes
Ten minutes.
Charles Lee Ray has been staring at his own reflection in the bathroom mirror of his and Tiffany's trailer.
For ten.
Whole.
Minutes.
Ten, silent and excruciatingly painful minutes.
People have always said he looked like his mother. They had the same auburn brown hair , same ivory skin, even the same smile. And though people have pointed out his and his mother's resemblance, Charles always paid more attention to the resemblance he had…to his father. He was tall, just like him. Skinny, just like him. They had the same angular facial features.
AND HE HATED IT!
But the worst thing, the WORST thing he got from him...was his eyes.
They both had icy, cornflower blue eyes that could see right through you, as if they're looking directly at your soul. And right now, it was like his father was looking right at HIM.
Like he always did.
Charles ran his long fingers through his hair. He shut his eyes.
Inhale
Then opened them.
Exhale
They moved to the pair of scissors he had resting on the edge of the sink. Was he really going to do this? Was this really that necessary? It was. These eyes are the reason he hates looking at himself in the mirror. The reason he constantly asks himself why his late mother ever loved him when he looked like the monster that knocked her up. The reason he hated himself for having even a slight resemblance to the person who abused him and his mother for years. The reason he had nightmares EVERY FUCKING NIGHT ever since he was kid.
Yes, he had to do it. He had to get rid of this constant reminder. Well, these TWO constant reminders. He picked up the scissors and leveled it with his right eye. He guessed his hold on them wasn't steady enough. He missed and gave himself a gash from the bridge of his nose to edge of his cheek. He cried out in agony. He cradled the right side of his face with his hands. He could feel the blood leak profusely between his fingers.
" Chucky?"
His breathing became unstable.
It was Tiffany.
She was lying in bed when she heard the commotion from their bedroom. She looked to the right which is where her boyfriend usually slept. The spot was empty. When she looked around the room, she noticed the bathroom door was slightly ajar.
And the light was on.
She got out of bed and made her way to the door and what she saw terrified her.
" Chucky?"
Charles didn't move. Tiffany didn't move. There was a crippling silence between them that went on for what seemed like hours. Tiffany took a few steps towards Charles.
" Chucky? What are you doing?" She asked, her voice shaking.
" Go away, Tiffany" She could hear his voice cracking.
He didn't turn around. His hands were still on his face. Tiffany could see his lips quivering, shaking in his reflection and noticed the blood going down his arms and the bloody pair scissors on the floor. Immediately, she grabbed his arm and tried to pry them from his face, despite his protest.
" Damn it Chucky! Put your fucking arms down and let me see!"
Eventually, he complied. Allowing her to see the damage he had done. The expression she had could only be described as genuine shock and concern as she lifted her hand towards the gash. Bruises were already started to form around the cut which was an inflamed crimson red. Her fingertips only grazed it before Charles jerked away from her due to the searing pain form the open wound.
" Chucky, what did you do?"
"..." He didn't answer. He just stared down at his feet. He felt like a fucking disgrace. Blood was beginning to make a pool around his feet. Tiffany grabbed her boyfriend's hands.
" Come on."
Charles sat down in the middle of their bed watching Tiffany take out their very often used first aid kit. She took out the necessary materials to patch him up. The tension in the room could be cut with a knife. Neither of them opened their mouths to talk until Tiffany started to disinfect the cut. The pain was unbearable, but no sound emitted from Charles Lee Ray.
" So, " she started to thread a needle, " Are you going to tell me why you cut your face open or what?" Still no sound. Tiffany sighed. Once she got the thread through, she told him to lie down.
He did.
The bedroom was soon filled with Charles mumbling curses under his breath as his girlfriend quite skillfully stitched up the gash under his eye. ' You really did a number on yourself.' he heard her mutter as she finished that final stitch. She placed a couple bandages over the closed wound and sat back to take a look at the man she loved. At this point, there was a huge bruise under his eye. His long, brown curls were standing up in different directions. His shoulders were slouched. His face had a look of sheer depression and self hate. She felt sorry for him, she really did, but she couldn't stand the fact that he would never let her help him. He always kept his emotions in and never told he-
" I have his eyes."
" ...What?"
Hot tears began to streak down his face. " I have his eyes, Tiff...my dad's." He sat up, laying against the headboard. He brought one of his knees towards him and cradled it.
" A-and I hate it. I FUCKING HATE IT. I hate looking like him. Every time I look at myself, I see him. So I thought...I thought..." he trailed off.
" You thought if you got rid of your eyes, everything would be better." She finished, cradling his face in her hands, bringing him closer to her, " Chucky, you're nothing like your father."
" When I met your father, that one time, I did notice those small similarities between you and him, but your eyes aren't one of them"
He rested his forehead on to hers, " What do you mean?" At this point, they were looking directly at each other as if they were looking into their entire being.
" Your eyes are the brightest,most gorgeous shade of blue I have ever seen. Whenever I look into them, I can see everything that you feel. I notice the way your eyes light up when you're happy and the way they get dark when you're upset...the way your pupils dilate every time you look at me...
" Do you know what I saw when I met your father?"
Charles shook his head 'no'. Tiffany beamed, raking her fingers through his thick unruly hair.
" I saw nothing."
Tiffany noticed the slight change in her boyfriend's features, that shit eating grin she loved so much appeared. Charles's arms found their way around her waist. He leaned in and kissed her. When their lips parted, he pressed their foreheads together. " I'm sorry."
Tiffany leaned up. The moment he closed his eyes, she gently kissed his eyelids. Laying her head into the crook of his neck, their embrace tightened as the moments went on. She inhaled his scent and smiled.
" You don't need to apologize. I just hope you one day learn to love your eyes as much as I do."