Glass Eye

**The following is from the writing prompt in my previous post, talking about exploring different story types by just changing your setting preference. This is my own take on it.**

The glass eye feels cold and unnatural whenever I first stick it into my skull. It would always be a painful reminder of what I’ve lost, and why I am here. My blood boiled as I stared at my reflection, seemingly unaltered. Brown eyes looking back at me, blinking, and emotionless.

I have mastered being unreadable, I had to. They would never understand my hatred for them. Just as I can hide my missing eye, they can hide the fact that there is a war raging, right under their noses. All because of the simple fact that if something is out of sight, it’s out of mind.

However, I am all to aware of my hindered sight, and too close to the destruction they can blissfully keep at arms length. And that is why I can’t look at anyone here without wanting to scream in their face, “There is blood being shed, INNOCENT BLOOD! And you do nothing, YOU DO NOTHING! You hold the very key to saving so many worlds, but you do NOTHING.” 

Here they are, the Serven, sitting on possibly the only device with the power to stop it all, but they’re too scared of it failing to try, too scared of becoming a target again.

They could of saved my world, they could have saved their’s. Instead they retreated here, inside a hunk of metal to avoid confrontation, and it doesn’t even seem to bother them in the slightest. Ha, and everyone says Humans are the ones with the flawed thinking.

Maybe it wouldn’t phase them if I went off, though there’s not much I could do besides make a scene for myself. The Serven only see Humans as a race of ticking time bombs with unnecessary emotions, and irrational decisions. It would do nothing besides get me a deportation pod.

Letting go of a breath I’ve been holding, I finally realize that I can’t sit here stewing all day. I can see the way they all look at me, like I should just be happy to be here. Like it doesn’t matter that everyone I love is dead because I’m still here. And I know why they think that, it’s because behind those beady eyes of their’s, is only a brain that can think about itself and survival.

Well let me tell you something, as a Human, life isn’t worth living if you don’t have anyone else to share it with. No, I have to get out of here. Before I completely lose my grip on why I need to be here in the first place. Time to put on my good Samaritan cap and act as contributing citizen. A hard day on the job is usually what it takes to get rid of some steam anyway.

I packed up early, and suited up, going out before most had finished their breakfast. Standing alone on the loading dock, out in the open like this, it hasn’t yet failed to wipe my mind of everything. Everything, except for the great awe of space.


2 thoughts on “Glass Eye”

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