THE EYES

By Anna

The eyes are always there, wakening us from our slumber. They make us relive our happiest and our most painful memories. We have felt despair, some more than others but no being has felt the traumas we have; so repetitive, so never ending. Sometimes we whisper to each other in our vertical resting places, but most commonly we stay in our own tribes but no one can stop a few traitors, they stay on the end of the line and talk to the different genres; Moby Dick and Tom Riddle are quite good friends.

Our peace has been disturbed by the eyes for thousands of years; we get picked up and taken away. Some are careful, but others bend our spines so we can never sit properly again. Our only times of peace are as we wait, spines exposed, on the shelves which we call home.

But, those eyes are never content they eagerly read through our most terrifying times, they are emotional vampires feeding on our sadness. Such pain attracts more eyes and we get plunged into a pool of despair. Some must suffer being so used millions of times across decades. They don’t even seem to be aware yet they emerge from our troubles enlightened, they get joy through our sorrows.

But not everything is bleak and miserable, we live happy moments as well as sad. We are joyous as we are reunited with lost family members, as our parents come back from war or even just being with people who we care for, these moments are the best things that happen to us, but doing the same thing over and over can get tedious and eventually we take even the greatest moments for granted. No matter how great the triumph, no matter how elated the moment or how evil the defeated we are empty our lives achieve only indifference. Boredom is our master.

But there is a hope, more and more we are put back upon our homes. We spend most of our time at peace. The eyes visit less and less. Why are they not visiting us? Do they at last care for us? No, for they have found new pastimes to gorge themselves upon: First it was theatre, then cinema and now the television who took pity on us, but their rule has been short. Ours was much longer. Already new entertainments have taken the eyes away. Facebook, twitter and instagram have taken away the glory of the arts. Chatter is the new god.

Now we get picked up less and less for the good lord has given mercy. We are at rest. However a new whisper of hell has come. We hear of a place called “Kindhell”. What a strange name for a place of everlasting pain. A place that doesn’t even truly exist, merely a flow of electricity. We can’t be certain of the name, all we know is in “Kindhell” we are awake and available to everyone for all eternity.