"Behind Blue Eyes" by Ben Cameron

“No one knows what it’s like

to be the bad man,

to be the sad man.

Behind blue eyes”

   I watched from behind jaded blue eyes as the world turned from dusk to nightfall and from nightfall to deepest night.  I had seen this endless cycle of death and resurrection so many times it had lost all meaning to me.  I did not see the orange streaks across the sky as the sun clung to the clouds in the sky but rather felt the encroaching darkness as sunset stilled the busy air.

   A sense of relief washed over me as the last vestiges of light left the sky.  No more could I see the accusatory stares from those I had cause to visit.  It was my eternal punishment and somehow ironic that the only relief I had came during the darkest hour of the day.  For it was here, the darkest of dark compared to the heavens that I’d been sentenced to my timeless exile in purgatory, if you will.

   My winged brethren had watched as I walked calmly between them, feathers tearing themselves out of my back and fluttering to the ground in a bloody train fit for the bride of Lucifer.  I had known then and there what I was going to do would take for all of eternity, but full comprehension did not fully dawn until I had seen and caused the downfall of countless men, families, generations and empires.

   Each day I watched as I led them to the world I had been exiled from.  Tantalisingly close to the one place that I was no longer allowed, one of the few places I held no power.  And each time I reached there, I dutifully returned to brave the hateful whispers of those I did not take with me in my sad arms.

   Many recognised me, and some even welcomed my poignant embrace but it was those who cursed me in my departure that ensured my eternal duty.  Still, there were some that touched me such that I remembered them long after they had left me to continue.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

   “Thankyou for coming.”  She looked up at me, her gaunt face showing more emotion than many would have believed possible: sorrow, relief, sympathy, but above all, gratitude.  As her eyes struck mine, I had the sudden revelation that there was hope.

   “It is but my duty, good lady.”  I nodded sagely but she saw my appreciation for her thanks.

   I was prepared to allow her to take her own time.  It was a small consolation I gave for both our sakes, mine to enjoy her company within my desolation and hers for any preparation she might want.

   She thought for a while.  “Yet you receive neither payment nor reparations.”

   “To each his own, Good Lady.  We get but what we deserve.”  I stood and stared, contemplating my own inevitable future.

   “But do you deserve this?”  I think even as she said this, she knew the truth.

   “What I did should never have been allowed.  And until those I damned forgive me, I will be walking the earth.”  My words sounded strange to my ears.  I had never talked of this to another; no one knows what it’s like to be hated as I am.

   She just absorbed that, recognising the feelings that flowed within me.

   “Where will I go?”  Her eyes questioned mine.

   “I think you know.”  She nodded, as though reassuring herself.

   She lifted herself up off the bed and kissed me on the cheek.  “Thankyou.  I am ready, now.”

   With that, I led her by the hand to the gates.  Before she entered she turned back to me.  “They will not always curse you, Death.  I do not.”

   As much as I wished to believe, I simply could not.  And before dutifully turning back, I sadly watched her enter from behind blue eyes.