Cold Eyes

They say eyes are the window to the soul.

Her eyes. Her white, bulging eyes. They were mesmerising. She was beautiful. It stood there in the middle of my room, staring. She wasn't focusing on me. It felt like she was looking through me. Her scream abruptly pierced the night air, making me jump. She then disappeared into the night and my eyes came to rest on her shadow. The shadow her body made when she forced my window and blinds open from the outside. T he shadow she made when she let the moon's rays beat down on her back. This silhouette on the floor was still there but she, had disappeared.

This dark figure on my floor began to creep closer and closer to my bed until it was virtually beside me. I dared not peek over the edge in sheer terror of what I would see. An eerie, deadly silence stretched on for what seemed like an eternity but finally my heart began to slow. Holding my breath I decide to peek over the edge of the bed.

Eyes. Cold eyes. Cold, lifeless eyes stared back. I could look or turn away I was captured by her gaze. Pale, cracked hands stretched out for me slowly and cautiously. I was sweating buckets now. Everything inside was kicking and screaming at me to pull away, react, retaliate or at least respond. Nothing.

Her hands touched my face. She stopped. In one quick movement, she dug her nails into both sides of my neck. All my muscles relaxed. I felt something warm trickling down my neck. My blood. I was wincing from the pain but still enthralled by her. Carefully, she began to pull me towards her expressionless face. Her mouth began to unhinge like a snake showing rows upon rows of beautiful, stained teeth. I was scared. I was alone.

I woke in a pool of my own sweat and tears. Trying to catch my breath again I rubbed my eyes. Suddenly, something caught them. My window had been forced open. Moonlight was streaming in.And a shadow in the corner of my room. A shadow with cold, white eyes.

They say that the eyes are the window to the soul. She didn't have one.