Hi everyone! Just thought I'd post my most recent short story on the forums for some constructive criticism. I'd love to hear your input, so let me know how I did and how I can improve my style. Thanks!
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He entered the room again. Cold beads of sweat ran down his face, and he ran his fingers through knotted brown hair. It was always the same. Narrowed eyes glared out at him from the darkness. All over he could see them-some brown, some blue, others green, but all tinted with a bloody red.
The door had vanished behind him, leaving him standing alone next to a blank wall. The eyes glowed around him, but they didn't seem to want to get closer. It was like he was some sort of disease which they didn't want to catch. He knew they wanted him gone. Their silence was confirmation enough of that.
He took another step into the room, and the eyes narrowed further into fiery slits. Why did they all hate him so much? Not that he cared. The darkness continued to thicken. If only it would blot out those eyes...
But the eyes grew steadily brighter, burning through the darkness. He looked around at the glowing slits, scanning each pair and trying to discern the faces of the owners. Finally, the only eyes that mattered appeared in the void. Large hazel orbs gazed at him from the far end of the room as he knew they would.
He trudged through the black mist, which became more dense with each step. He would make it this time. He would reach those hazel eyes no matter how dense the mist, now a dark tar-like substance. If he couldn't make it this time, he would... well, that didn't matter. This was his last chance.
He pulled his foot from what felt like half-dried concrete. How could their hatred of him have become so thick? He looked around. Thousands of eyes now glowed red around him, but the hazel orbs retained their blank stare. If only he could get to them... perhaps he could still...
The tar had become solid black stone encasing his left foot. He jerked his leg up, but far from freeing his foot, a jolt of pain wracked his leg, and he crumpled down.
"No..." Thousands of eyes burned around him. They were laughing at him, and he knew it. He could feel it.
"No," he hissed. The silent laughter vanished, and the eyes narrowed and bore through him once again.
"No!" he shouted. Why wouldn't they just leave him alone? He'd never done anything but show them kindness. So, why did they hate him so much?
"Get away from me!" he screamed, wrenching his leg from the black stone with a hideous crack. The eyes dimmed-all except for those large hazel orbs. His oddly twisted ankle throbbed as he limped across the stone. He was going to make it, finally, after all this time. Then, the vacant hazel eyes loomed in front of him, hovering in mid-air. Even this close, he could not make out a face or body, and he felt the other eyes growing brighter, watching intently.
"I've... I've been waiting for this for so long," he began, his hands trembling slightly. "When I first saw you, I could tell you were different from the rest."
The eyes remained vacant, staring at him-staring through him.
"The others... they hate me, you know," he blurted into the silence, twisting his hands together. "I mean, they haven't said anything bad to me, but I can just tell they don't want me around."
The surrounding eyes narrowed at these words, but the hazel orbs continued to float silently.
"Why won't you answer me?" he moaned, glaring around at the other eyes. "I thought you'd be different than the others. I thought you'd at least care!"
His breath came in short gasps now as he glowered at the hazel eyes.
"But no! None of you care at all about me. They all hate me... and you!" he bellowed, pointing a shaking finger at the glowing orbs. "You are just like the rest of them! You despise me, don't you?"
The hazel eyes suddenly glared at him, becoming just as narrow as the others. Under his feet, the black stone began to undulate and degrade into a sticky tar. He spun around on his good leg to face the void.
"You all want me dead!" he screeched at the mass of burning slits. "You don't need to say it! I can see it in your eyes!"
The muck had already swallowed half his torso, but he continued to howl at the infernal eyes. Why wouldn't they just leave him alone? He felt the muck fading as black mist blanketed his head. It was almost over.
He opened his eyes and was greeted by the sight of his bedroom. His pajamas were drenched in cold sweat, and a chill ran down his spine.
"Rachel..." he muttered, gazing at a portrait of a young, hazel-eyed girl. He knew what he had to do. Sitting up, he grabbed a pen and a piece of paper and got to work.
The letter had been sitting neatly in his pocket when the police found him three days later, feet dangling above an overturned chair and a thick cord around his neck. His face appeared loose and resigned. They opened the letter.
I am leaving this letter for whoever finds me. I can no longer go on living in a world where I am so alone. No one will say it plainly, but I know they all hate me. I can see it in their eyes. My only regret is that you never loved me, Rachel. If only you'd talked to me, maybe things would have turned out better. But I've made up my mind, and this is the end. So, goodbye to everyone, and goodbye to those eyes in the darkness.
