A 15 year old girl was traveling in a SUV with her mother when they hit a deer. The six pointer crashed through the windshield of the vehicle and one of the deer's antlers pierced the teenage girl's left eye. She was taken to a nearby hospital where doctors confirmed that she was in good condition but would probably loose vision in her injured eye.
...It took her some time to not only master the physical aspects of having mono-ocular capabilities but the psychological discord as well. She often found herself wobbling lopsided to the mirror to see which dainty, mother-made eyepatch would match her vestures for the day. In a few years, she would be trying out glass eyes with different colored irises and permenantly dialated pupils. She bought a blue one to match her own, planning to wear it to prom. She was never asked and went alone to the dance, accompinied by a corsage her father gave her and wearing a dress her mother made. Her glass eye was of a slightly deeper hue than her real one and it's stagnant stare seemed to draw the real eyes of all of her peers as she walked past the punch bowl. She never really fit in at high school, but she figured that that's how everyone feels about high school. Those were her last thoughts as she slipped into a sleeping pill-induced coma the night before graduation. Her mom came in to wake her up and found her dead daughter staring up at her with a solitary, deep blue, glass eye.
Chikao Muramatsu was a 42 yr old auto manufacturing executive from Japan. He had traveled to Colombia three years ago for a tropical vacation and was kidnapped by the paramilitary. He prayed to God every night for the first year he was held captive. His captors barely fed him and he learned how to piss and shit like a dog on a leash. After the second year he began to question if the was a God when he prayed at night, trying to block out the pain of his swollen and beaten body. He remembered what Japan used to smell like and thought of how that contrasted the fetid state of his current self. He was usually crying by the time he stopped praying. After three years of being held hostage in a foreign land, Chikao Muramatsu was traded to the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia. He no longer prayed. He no longer cried. He no longer felt the whelps and bruises that made his body the color of a calico eggplant. He was thinking of absolutely nothing as he was shot in the back of the head and left with two living hostages, one from Japan, the other a Spainard, to be picked up by a helicopter sent by international rescue efforts.
...It took her some time to not only master the physical aspects of having mono-ocular capabilities but the psychological discord as well. She often found herself wobbling lopsided to the mirror to see which dainty, mother-made eyepatch would match her vestures for the day. In a few years, she would be trying out glass eyes with different colored irises and permenantly dialated pupils. She bought a blue one to match her own, planning to wear it to prom. She was never asked and went alone to the dance, accompinied by a corsage her father gave her and wearing a dress her mother made. Her glass eye was of a slightly deeper hue than her real one and it's stagnant stare seemed to draw the real eyes of all of her peers as she walked past the punch bowl. She never really fit in at high school, but she figured that that's how everyone feels about high school. Those were her last thoughts as she slipped into a sleeping pill-induced coma the night before graduation. Her mom came in to wake her up and found her dead daughter staring up at her with a solitary, deep blue, glass eye.
Chikao Muramatsu was a 42 yr old auto manufacturing executive from Japan. He had traveled to Colombia three years ago for a tropical vacation and was kidnapped by the paramilitary. He prayed to God every night for the first year he was held captive. His captors barely fed him and he learned how to piss and shit like a dog on a leash. After the second year he began to question if the was a God when he prayed at night, trying to block out the pain of his swollen and beaten body. He remembered what Japan used to smell like and thought of how that contrasted the fetid state of his current self. He was usually crying by the time he stopped praying. After three years of being held hostage in a foreign land, Chikao Muramatsu was traded to the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia. He no longer prayed. He no longer cried. He no longer felt the whelps and bruises that made his body the color of a calico eggplant. He was thinking of absolutely nothing as he was shot in the back of the head and left with two living hostages, one from Japan, the other a Spainard, to be picked up by a helicopter sent by international rescue efforts.
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[Edited on Nov 28, 2003 3:56PM]
take care....
toiletooth.