Okay… it's the last chapter. Sorry, guys. I've just been so busy over finals and christmas break and MAJOR writer's block. But no worries now! I finally finished it! I want to thank everyone who's reviewed and I wish I could give them lots of candy and chocolate, but alas, my dear readers. I am broke.

When taking school pictures, the photographer always asks me, "Hey, kid, can you move your bangs for me. I want to see your pretty eyes." I roll my eyes in contempt and do as he says, just to get it over with. Right afterwards, my friends would ask me why I hide my eyes so much. They say they are very pretty. I reply with an, "I dunno" and get on with my life. 'Cause, honestly, I really don't know.

I guess it's a kind of rightful tradition I have. After all, in all my school pictures from my second grade to this year's eighth grade picture I have had my bangs roughly cover my eyes. My mother always said to me it just was my style: full of mystery and the radness of my hardcore aura. And then she would pinch my cheek and say I was so cute—yeah, totally defeating the essence of her previous words.

Now, I guess one could say things have changed in my hiding eye purposes: Cause it looks sexy. I mean honestly, How would Chad Dickson in the adjoining high school have ever noticed me if I didn't look that way? Side bangs covering my eyes in an illusion of apathy—typical teenage form. But… it's just that hiding my eyes doesn't seem right. As if I was hiding myself from my confidence, but I don't really understand how that could happen. I'm quite confident in my abilities as a leader. Wait, as a leader of what?

I'm sorry, I've been thinking a lot. I had to do this project on a certain feature of the human body as an embodiment of the soul for my Honors History Class. I chose Eyes. I submitted it last week, but Mr. Henry said that "it wasn't the purpose of the project. It's not science class, it's behavioral structure." He'd also said he'd give me another chance, but if I didn't get at least a B+, he'd keep my original grade. And now I have to do another ten-page report on the subject. Ugh. I hate teachers. Let's see what I've got so far.

Eyes, definition courtesy of Webster online, being "a specialized light-sensitive sensory structure of animals that in nearly all vertebrates, most arthropods, and some mollusks is the image-forming organ of sight ; especially the nearly spherical usually paired hollow organ of sight in vertebrates that is filled with a jellylike material, is lined with a photosensitive retina, and is lodged in a bony orbit in the skull." The purpose of the eye is to process the information concerning our surroundings to the brain to further process what purpose our surroundings reveal.

Ugh. This is disgustingly formal. The embodiment of the soul… it sounds like some Middle Eastern Guru lecture or a weekend in Berkley, CA. What do the eyes mean to me?

Maybe I should go through the day blind. Yeah! It's a Saturday. My parents still work on Saturdays (my dad's a pilot and my mom's an accountant), and my brother is playing that stupid KND game with his friends. I'll have the entire house to myself and no one will be here to bother me.

Crash!

Ow. I think I stumbled upon a piece of reality my brain did not have the ability to process since my eyes weren't capable. Maybe I should put that in my report. "The loss of the eyes permits a lack of control and valuable information."

Hold the phone… what's this. It's one of my old albums. I thought I gave all of these to my brother. Well, since I'm not doing anything really important, I think I'll have a look at this.

I flipped the pages of the album, only to find people I didn't recognize. I mean, I knew them from school, sure. They were sixth graders and seventh graders mainly, though I recognized one as an eighth grader. But they all had one thing in common: their eyes were covered. How profound of me to notice that. Maybe if I had checked their behavior patterns, the symbolic loss of the eye could mean something to me. Unfortunately, it's the weekend. And the report's due Monday.

I don't know why I don't recognize these people. I guess I just… I don't know. Maybe I can guess their personalities by their reactions in the book. After all, a picture is worth a thousand words.

I started flipping the pages, noting that the guy with the sunglasses always had that cold, hard, glorified leader like stare about him, showing all the confidence in the world, not only in himself, but in his friends. And that the guy with the goggles was always so cheerful and happy. He was so grateful for life, but somewhat ashamed of himself. Was it his nerdiness? His size? I'll never know. And then there's that short boy with the orange sweatshirt. He looked like he could fight the world, and win too. He showed determination. And then there was that redhead. She, like the Orange sweatshirt boy, was ready to fight the world, except, this girl might just be willing to dominate it too. And then there was the chocolate skinned girl. I think she's Cree's sister. I've seen her around. She's very calm and cool, very mellow. But she wants to run from something. What? Herself? And then there's that Japanese girl. She seems so carefree. I remember her from the cheerleading squad. She's always so bubbly. She's so pure.

And then I saw Chad. I didn't know I knew him from when I was a kid! He looked so happy, and yet so concerned. There he was, hanging with Cree and Maurice. They're all best friends. But they've been through some rough patches lately. They have some bad history that they just can't seem to forget, or even accept ever happened. It makes me feel like I want to help, and Chad knows I do. And every time we talk about this, he dies to tell me. But I know he can't. Why? I don't know.

How did I notice all these things just by a couple pictures? I guess the way you flaunt your eyes really shows who you are. I once read that true eye contact is one of the most intimate moments a person can have. I laughed at a few of the candids? There were so many pictures of candy fights and water guns. It was like a giant festival. But these emotions were only shown through the objects that hide the eyes. What more if I saw them. I flipped through more of the photos and saw that the eyes began to gradually peek out a little more at a time. Almost as if they were ready to experience the world.

And then I flipped the page, and realized that Chad was gone. The eyes receded. And even I, happy and honored as I looked in the pictures, realized that I had been… hurt? Betrayed? By Chad? What? I was confused.

I was about to call Chad when the phone rang. I asked who it was. The speaker said it was Chad. I was relieved. I was about to tell him of my findings, but he said it was urgent. I decided to bring the album and ran to meet him at the café nearby the school.

When I got there. I was completely astonished. It was Chad. And he was sad. Don't get me wrong. We've been through hard times before. But this time… he was going to lose himself. And then I looked around. The people… from the pictures… they were here… It just wasn't possible. I was crying to Chad about what was going on, but he told me to sit down and he would explain it all to me.

It turns out, that the game by brother plays with his friends is real. And when I was a kid, I was a part of it. Not only was I a part of it, but I was the Supreme Commander of Global KND. I was the head of an organization large enough to threaten most countries worldwide. I was in charge of the world''s future.

Then the boy with the sunglasses stepped in. "I see you have already found most of that out." He motioned to the album I was holding.

I tried to explain. But I couldn't. It seemed that these memories were held sacred to these kids, including Chad. "Ummm… I was working on my report on the spiritual embodiment of eyes… when I stumbled blindfolded… that sounds so lame… but… and then, I saw Chad in there… and you too! I had no clue what was going on… I promise!"

"It's okay, Rachel. We understand. But Chad invited you here to tell you something very important," said the boy in goggles.

"Didn't he already?"

Chad looked up from his misery, "No. I didn't. What I needed to tell you is that I am getting decommissioned. After today. I will have no memories of Cree, Maurice, or the KND. And because you were once a part of it and could be a secret TND agent behind my back, I will forget you. And my parents are sending me to boarding school in Los Angeles to ensure this fact."

I tried to protest, "but our memories? Our lives? Why can't you live through this?"

"I don't think you could handle some of the things I've done as a teen ninja. I quit that life to get away from it, but with you and Cree and Maurice… it's going to stay forever. I'm sorry, Rachel."

The redhead vanished with Chad into the backroom and I could hear the sound of a rocket coursing into space.

I sat there stunned. It was over so suddenly. It wasn't even as if Chad was even gone. He was still here, in Cleveland. It didn't make sense in my head. The gang sat around the table with me. Attempting to console me, but knowing their place as "inferior kids," dared not say a word. But this did come out that made me rethink Chad's motive:

"We didn't force him to do this, Rachel. He came to us." I looked up at the speaker. It was the girl in the red cap. "He asked a favor of Fanny when you were with the girls during lunch period. He wanted to tell you personally, and we're not allowed to speak to you anyways." She paused as if confused by her own words. Then, with a bit of confidence, looked up again and smirked, "You're not the only one with this problem. I have Cree."

The sunglasses boy stepped in as if proudly ashamed."I have my dad and leadership."

And then slowly, they all began to cheer me up.

"I don't have my dad."

"I have my anger."

"I have nothing to fear."

The last speaker said it with all the hope the world could ever muster. And she looked around the room, not speaking a word, but softly, ever so softly saying, "and so does everyone else"

I finally realized what these kids have come to mean. And I believed them. They then told me that I could keep my memories of this day, but swore never to speak of them. This meeting was hardly even legal by their standards. It was helping an old friend that got them to do it.

When Chad came back, he wasn't Chad anymore. He was cool and slick. His hair was spiked instead of swept to his eyes. And he had no idea where he was. His eyes though, were completely devoid, in a trail of teenage apathy. The emotions began to confuse me again, bursting my small bubble of a utopia with this group, now trapped in that frame of time. And I ran home.

When taking school pictures, the photographer always asks me, "Hey, kid, can you move your bangs for me. I want to see your pretty eyes." I roll my eyes in contempt and do as he says, just to get it over with. Right afterwards, my friends would ask me why I hide my eyes so much. They say they are very pretty. I reply with an, "I dunno" and get on with my life. Because, honestly,

I hated the fact that I knew.

Eyes, definition courtesy of Webster online, being "a specialized light-sensitive sensory structure of animals that in nearly all vertebrates, most arthropods, and some mollusks is the image-forming organ of sight ; especially the nearly spherical usually paired hollow organ of sight in vertebrates that is filled with a jellylike material, is lined with a photosensitive retina, and is lodged in a bony orbit in the skull." The purpose of the eye is to process the information concerning our surroundings to the brain to further process what purpose our surroundings reveal.

But the spiritual purpose of the eye is not to process the information, but more of a screen to the information. The eye tells us all of the emotion hidden within the brain. Like a two way street, not only can the eye receive the data from the reality and fabric of the universe, but also sends the universe back to whatever object it pleases. A prolonged eye contact can usually lead to a state of nirvana through meditation or the intimate knowledge of the person you so happen to share your gateway with.

Concerning life in the general public. The eye as seen as something shameful, as it holds such emotion. Hence, the coming fads of side bangs, emo bangs, messy layered hair, and large sunglasses. In truth, eyes should be very important in society as they hold truth. In a society where truth is revered, why should it not be displayed regally, instead of hidden behind style and beauty? They beauty is not in the eye of the beholder. It is the eye in which the beholder carries his or her own true beauty and sends his thoughts to the world. They eye is the way in which we can be heard, quoted, and felt best. To speak, we must first see.

Rachel Shea A+