Blue Eyes
by chantel charis
Nineteen year old Chantel Charis is a second year music performance major at Northern Illinois University and writes poetry, prose, and short stories on the side. She has had short story “8.28.15” featured in Jocelyn Chambers’ book The Era of Mixed Feelings in 2015, and self published a poetry and illustration chapbook entitled -ANCE in 2016.
Published 09/28/17
Published 09/28/17
One set of blue eyes stare out the car window as rain drags down the glass, creating beads. Thoughts flow through his developing mind like electrical currents through water. Unable to speak because his mind is too young, unable to cry for the fear of being heard, he holds what he sees and hears closely to his heart. He remembers these moments for a time when he will have the option not to speak of them and he won't (speak of them). He knows that explaining the past doesn’t fix anything, and silence makes it far easier to pretend it didn’t happen in the first place. His mother sits in the driver’s seat, a lit cigarette loosely dangling between her index and middle finger. Ash bounces onto the damp pavement when she flicks the end with her thumb. Rock music blasts through the speakers, shaking the tail of the car as it halts at the stop light.
His name is Brandon. He is only eight months, and is on his way to his grandma’s house. It is five o'clock in the morning and his mom has to go to work because his father won’t. The car is filled with a damp ashy scent as it finally pulls into the driveway. His grandmother opens the screen door and hurries Brandon and his mother in from out of the rain. “Good morning Boo!” she would say, unbuttoning his coat while his mom was on the phone yelling about some quarrel between a coworker and a friend, or something of that nature. A smile brushes onto Brandon’s tired face and he falls into his grandma’s arms.
“Goodbye, Brandon,” his mother Sara says, hanging up the phone, half looking at her son and rolling her eyes. She looks to her mother, “I’ll be back around four. Some chick from work bitched about my other friend from work to my boss and now shit is messed up.” She sighs heavily and opens the door to leave. Brandon’s blue eyes turn to cold glass and his bottom lip quivers.
“It’s okay, baby,” his grandma says holding him tightly. “Mom will be back later. Let’s watch a show and eat some cereal.”
The front door slams. Sara left without another blink of an eye while her son’s back was turned. This is how every day begins.
Three years later, three sets of blue eyes stare out the car window as the sun beats down onto the room and though the windshield. It’s December and this Christmas, their father will be in the county jail and their mother will be cleaning out an apartment with her arm in a sling. Grandma is still watching them all every morning while Sara works in the nursing home. At the age of three, Brandon now has twin sisters, Kim and Marie, who are a year old. Their bodies are bruised and their eyes are scratched up. It might have been days since they’ve had breakfast and their clothing smells of dried milk which has crusted on their sleeves. Grandma takes them to the bathroom immediately and gives them each their own warm bath, trying to relax their shaking bodies. Sara’s husband, Keagan, has been more careless with his physical abuse lately. He drinks and lays around waiting for Sara to come home. The children are locked away in their bedrooms in the dark for hours on end without a meal or fresh diaper. When Sara returns from work, Keagan finds some reason to find fault with her and begins screaming and lashing out on her. She weighs only 90 pounds and is about 5’3” tall. The police have been called by apartment neighbors on several occasions, and DCSF has been called by their grandmother a few times by now also. No one does a thing and the cycle continues. The twin sisters show up one day to their grandma’s house in urine soaked pajamas and bite marks all along their arms and necks.
Two years later, four sets of blue eyes stare out the car window as they pull into a gravel driveway. Sara has been seeing a new man for a few months now. His name is Fred and he knows she is still married to Keagan. Leon is the newest addition to the family and it is believed that he is Keagan’s son. A great deal of Sara’s things are now at Fred’s house and the children are not allowed to speak of him. Their mouths are continually forced shut with heavy threats and their punishments are severe. Locked doors and empty stomachs, dark rooms and cold drafty corners are their spaces to occupy if something out of the ordinary crosses over their faces. The children are dying.
Sara puts in for a divorce with Keagan and is now living with her four children at Fred’s house before the divorce is final. The confused children are forced to call Fred their “Daddy Freddy” and are not allowed to ask questions. Keagan has a restraining order put into place after his last bought of drunkenness and furry.
Before you know it, Sara is pregnant again, this time with Fred’s child. His name is James. Born before the second wedding, history repeats itself once more, as Brandon was also born before Sara’s wedding with Keagan. And as history repeats itself, it must do so in full. Fred seems like a wholesome partner and father figure. In fact, one may go so far as to say he is a step up from Keagan. However, he also does not work and drinks excessively. But this too can be overlooked so long as no one is being physically hurt. And this is what Grandma and Grandpa and Sara say, even though he spits words like venom after a while longer of getting to know him.
But even this is excusable if there are not bruises or broken bones. There is always food on the table and bedding for the children and this is an upgrade. This is still believed to be better.
Soon enough, school starts for Brandon and his younger twin sisters. He is in charge of getting them on and off of the bus every morning and afternoon and gets their lunches in the morning. When they return from class, he completes his homework as best he can, and also helps them with their’s. At the age of five, Brandon is a mother to his 4 younger siblings. Not only does he protect his sisters on the school yard, but he also is left in charge of keeping everyone out of trouble, and administering punishment if one of them behaves out of line. Brandon soon stops eating breakfast and has a short temper with those around him. His grades drop and he no longer enjoys loud music. All he wants is some peace and quiet. Often, he breaks down and cries, throwing his arms about as grandma holds him tightly in her arms. “It’s okay, Boo. I love you,” she would whisper in his ear, rocking him back and forth. Those last three words always caused him to wail louder than any others.
Fred is in and out of work and still heavily drinks on the weekends, as the four oldest children are sent to Keagan’s house for the weekend due to his partial custody. They return with empty stomachs, matted hair and bruised ligaments most times. But Sara doesn’t mind because once she gives James to grandma for the weekend also, she can enjoy the weekend with Fred and drink until she can’t remember she’s required to be a mother. So for two days a week, she is permitted to ignore this crucial fact.
This is all still fine, until one day, Sara opens up about what has truly been happening. Fred has a short temper and is always inebriated. He beats her and screams at the top of his lungs, profanity and dehumanizing insults. Sara is not the only recipient of this abuse. Brandon is next in line for the back of his hand and cutting words. Before you know it, each of the children are bruised and fear Daddy Freddy. Sara is also bruised and fears for her life every night she goes to sleep by his side. His threats were empty until he threw a baby stroller onto the roof of their house and closed Sara’s head in the door one evening. She couldn’t properly speak for days.
It’s been two years. Sara finally decides to leave Fred. Before the divorce is final, she moves all of her belongings and children with her to an old friend’s country house. Grandma takes every day still to watch the growing family and watches as her daughter and grandchildren endure severe physical and emotional trauma. She has tried calling the police and DCFS since these incidents have taken place, but again, no legal action is taken. Joey, Sara’s newest man, has two children that live in Florida. He seems like an upgrade from Fred. At least he is a father figure to Sara’s children. Sara is working again and Brandon is still in full responsibility of his younger siblings. No one has been around Joey long enough to tell so far, but he seems better than the last two. Only time will tell.
Five sets of blue eyes stare out the car window as grey clouds collect in the sky, forming a grey blanket above a grey atmosphere. They are all on their way to Grandma’s house for school. It’s five o'clock in the morning and their mother is tightly clenching a cigarette between her thumb and index finger, vigorously inhaling the toxins. Five mouths are glued shut and the electrical current in Brandon’s head is still bouncing around, rapidly firing thoughts that no human should have to endure, let alone at the age of seven. He closes his eyes and remembers that history repeats itself, so he hopes he’ll have it better in the next life.
His name is Brandon. He is only eight months, and is on his way to his grandma’s house. It is five o'clock in the morning and his mom has to go to work because his father won’t. The car is filled with a damp ashy scent as it finally pulls into the driveway. His grandmother opens the screen door and hurries Brandon and his mother in from out of the rain. “Good morning Boo!” she would say, unbuttoning his coat while his mom was on the phone yelling about some quarrel between a coworker and a friend, or something of that nature. A smile brushes onto Brandon’s tired face and he falls into his grandma’s arms.
“Goodbye, Brandon,” his mother Sara says, hanging up the phone, half looking at her son and rolling her eyes. She looks to her mother, “I’ll be back around four. Some chick from work bitched about my other friend from work to my boss and now shit is messed up.” She sighs heavily and opens the door to leave. Brandon’s blue eyes turn to cold glass and his bottom lip quivers.
“It’s okay, baby,” his grandma says holding him tightly. “Mom will be back later. Let’s watch a show and eat some cereal.”
The front door slams. Sara left without another blink of an eye while her son’s back was turned. This is how every day begins.
Three years later, three sets of blue eyes stare out the car window as the sun beats down onto the room and though the windshield. It’s December and this Christmas, their father will be in the county jail and their mother will be cleaning out an apartment with her arm in a sling. Grandma is still watching them all every morning while Sara works in the nursing home. At the age of three, Brandon now has twin sisters, Kim and Marie, who are a year old. Their bodies are bruised and their eyes are scratched up. It might have been days since they’ve had breakfast and their clothing smells of dried milk which has crusted on their sleeves. Grandma takes them to the bathroom immediately and gives them each their own warm bath, trying to relax their shaking bodies. Sara’s husband, Keagan, has been more careless with his physical abuse lately. He drinks and lays around waiting for Sara to come home. The children are locked away in their bedrooms in the dark for hours on end without a meal or fresh diaper. When Sara returns from work, Keagan finds some reason to find fault with her and begins screaming and lashing out on her. She weighs only 90 pounds and is about 5’3” tall. The police have been called by apartment neighbors on several occasions, and DCSF has been called by their grandmother a few times by now also. No one does a thing and the cycle continues. The twin sisters show up one day to their grandma’s house in urine soaked pajamas and bite marks all along their arms and necks.
Two years later, four sets of blue eyes stare out the car window as they pull into a gravel driveway. Sara has been seeing a new man for a few months now. His name is Fred and he knows she is still married to Keagan. Leon is the newest addition to the family and it is believed that he is Keagan’s son. A great deal of Sara’s things are now at Fred’s house and the children are not allowed to speak of him. Their mouths are continually forced shut with heavy threats and their punishments are severe. Locked doors and empty stomachs, dark rooms and cold drafty corners are their spaces to occupy if something out of the ordinary crosses over their faces. The children are dying.
Sara puts in for a divorce with Keagan and is now living with her four children at Fred’s house before the divorce is final. The confused children are forced to call Fred their “Daddy Freddy” and are not allowed to ask questions. Keagan has a restraining order put into place after his last bought of drunkenness and furry.
Before you know it, Sara is pregnant again, this time with Fred’s child. His name is James. Born before the second wedding, history repeats itself once more, as Brandon was also born before Sara’s wedding with Keagan. And as history repeats itself, it must do so in full. Fred seems like a wholesome partner and father figure. In fact, one may go so far as to say he is a step up from Keagan. However, he also does not work and drinks excessively. But this too can be overlooked so long as no one is being physically hurt. And this is what Grandma and Grandpa and Sara say, even though he spits words like venom after a while longer of getting to know him.
But even this is excusable if there are not bruises or broken bones. There is always food on the table and bedding for the children and this is an upgrade. This is still believed to be better.
Soon enough, school starts for Brandon and his younger twin sisters. He is in charge of getting them on and off of the bus every morning and afternoon and gets their lunches in the morning. When they return from class, he completes his homework as best he can, and also helps them with their’s. At the age of five, Brandon is a mother to his 4 younger siblings. Not only does he protect his sisters on the school yard, but he also is left in charge of keeping everyone out of trouble, and administering punishment if one of them behaves out of line. Brandon soon stops eating breakfast and has a short temper with those around him. His grades drop and he no longer enjoys loud music. All he wants is some peace and quiet. Often, he breaks down and cries, throwing his arms about as grandma holds him tightly in her arms. “It’s okay, Boo. I love you,” she would whisper in his ear, rocking him back and forth. Those last three words always caused him to wail louder than any others.
Fred is in and out of work and still heavily drinks on the weekends, as the four oldest children are sent to Keagan’s house for the weekend due to his partial custody. They return with empty stomachs, matted hair and bruised ligaments most times. But Sara doesn’t mind because once she gives James to grandma for the weekend also, she can enjoy the weekend with Fred and drink until she can’t remember she’s required to be a mother. So for two days a week, she is permitted to ignore this crucial fact.
This is all still fine, until one day, Sara opens up about what has truly been happening. Fred has a short temper and is always inebriated. He beats her and screams at the top of his lungs, profanity and dehumanizing insults. Sara is not the only recipient of this abuse. Brandon is next in line for the back of his hand and cutting words. Before you know it, each of the children are bruised and fear Daddy Freddy. Sara is also bruised and fears for her life every night she goes to sleep by his side. His threats were empty until he threw a baby stroller onto the roof of their house and closed Sara’s head in the door one evening. She couldn’t properly speak for days.
It’s been two years. Sara finally decides to leave Fred. Before the divorce is final, she moves all of her belongings and children with her to an old friend’s country house. Grandma takes every day still to watch the growing family and watches as her daughter and grandchildren endure severe physical and emotional trauma. She has tried calling the police and DCFS since these incidents have taken place, but again, no legal action is taken. Joey, Sara’s newest man, has two children that live in Florida. He seems like an upgrade from Fred. At least he is a father figure to Sara’s children. Sara is working again and Brandon is still in full responsibility of his younger siblings. No one has been around Joey long enough to tell so far, but he seems better than the last two. Only time will tell.
Five sets of blue eyes stare out the car window as grey clouds collect in the sky, forming a grey blanket above a grey atmosphere. They are all on their way to Grandma’s house for school. It’s five o'clock in the morning and their mother is tightly clenching a cigarette between her thumb and index finger, vigorously inhaling the toxins. Five mouths are glued shut and the electrical current in Brandon’s head is still bouncing around, rapidly firing thoughts that no human should have to endure, let alone at the age of seven. He closes his eyes and remembers that history repeats itself, so he hopes he’ll have it better in the next life.