Sky Eyes

There was this girl without a choice in her head. All she had were these two eyes. Her hazel eyes shone against the starry sky each night. She could stare into the great beyond in the darkness. During daylight those eyes glittered green like the forest. She longed to be home. It was most impossible for this girl to maintain a life of normalcy. She hated to feel so self-conceited, but in her heart that she was meant for something greater than a rolling chair behind a desk. Self-exploration, she realized, was the key to her own happiness.

This night dreamer was not without fear, however. She wondered constantly how anyone ever found the time to follow their heart. She felt that there were standards in life which she had to live up to. She did not want to let her loved ones down. They never seemed to understand her calling. She did not want life to be all about money. This nameless face pushed herself as well as any slightly depressed woman could. She worked. She schooled. She took medication for her anxiety. The medication helped, but the job did not.

It was not so much the stress of the jobs which scared her away. It was the lack of fulfillment interfering with the girl's belief that life should be worth living: not worth paying for. She had never been good at keeping her jobs. Sure, she excelled at all of them. She gave them all up in trade for her freedom. The nature outside of her office windows screamed, "Come to me," and she listened. To chameleon-eyes, nothing was worse than the tease of independence when she could only gaze from afar. So with each job she proceeded to make a name for herself, and then desert it without so ever a telephone call.

She often wondered where her story would end. She always worried that it never would.

At times she felt so weak for giving up those cash-swallowing jobs. It shamed her to face up to the fact that she just was not the working type. She often concerned herself with what that meant: not the working type. Was she going to be the old woman behind the register at the greasy diner down the road? Would she be yet another chain store employee, working for a pathetic dollar above minimum wage? How much does love count when she refused to keep an unsatisfying job? Would the love of her life give up on her; like she did those constantly displeasing jobs? She felt more dumb than fearless.

There was nothing to look back upon, unless she wished to remain at a standstill. Life did not work that way, she realized one night as she mesmerized herself with her precious stars. Each conclusion gives way to excellent opportunity for a new beginning. It didn't matter how much money she made if she was not satisfied with the results of her life. She concluded what she must do. Her eyes twinkled as she wiggled her toes into the cold sand. This was her defining moment. Did she simply run away and start a new life, or build upon her current one? She made a choice. The girl did not stop to consider who would care or what the consequences would be. She knew from the way that her own heart was pounding so rapidly against her chest that nothing but life could touch her now. Though life consisted of everything, she found herself in the darkness each star experiences throughout its lifetime. Upon entering that darkness, her dumbness slipped away. As she emancipated herself into the morning light, the warm of the sun reached her eyes. Their reflection upon the window told her what each coming day meant for her: freedom. She smiled as she slipped a red rose into her hair on her way out the door.