All Nonfiction Bullying Books Academic Author Interviews Celebrity interviews College Articles College Essays Educator of the Year Heroes Interviews Memoir Personal Experience Sports Travel & CultureAll Opinions Bullying Current Events / Politics Discrimination Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking Entertainment / Celebrities Environment Love / Relationships Movies / Music / TV Pop Culture / Trends School / College Social Issues / Civics Spirituality / Religion Sports / Hobbies
- Summer Guide
- College Guide
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Personal Experience
- Travel & Culture
- Current Events / Politics
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
- Community Service
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
Brown Eye Cult
Hi. My name is Anissa. I have brown eyes. That's the first thing, I guess, you should know about me. That's about all anyone wants to know anymore. The government isn't fair. We all always knew it was corrupt; but you wouldn't believe this.
So, my fifteenth birthday is coming up soon, right? Well, I guess I have to explain the whole thing to you. I have a birth defect. I was born with brown eyes. And now that's considered a defect. And, see, you're not allowed to have brown eyes. When you turn fifteen, you have to go in and get surgery on your eyes. You have to get fake ones that are a different color. And then, you're blind. So far, that's all I know. Because the law hasn't been around for too long, so there's still a lot of people-adults- who still have brown eyes. They're all going in for surgery. Since having brown eyes is not only considered a defect, but almost a handicap; they want to get the surgery. It's that, or the constant ridicule. Or the fact that if you are of age and don't go in for surgery, they'll chase you down. I don't believe any of that crap' I know they'll chase you down and all. They're hostile. But I don't believe in having brown eyes as a bad thing. Are you kidding? Brown eyes are beautiful.
Anyway, almost all my friends have green eyes. Except for my closest friend, Evangeline. She's got brown eyes. And this is where the whole thing begins. Her birthday is in January, where mine is February. So a month before me, she turns fifteen.
So I'm in math class and Evangeline is poking my arm. I turn to my left side and look at her over my shoulder. 'Yeah?'
Evangeline swallows and says, 'You know it's my birthday this week, right?'
'Well' yeah,' I say. ''Oh. Yeah.'
I look into her brown eyes. Her eyes are different. I can see pigments of green and blue in her brown eyes. The brown seems to overpower all the rest, though.
'Don't worry about it,' I say. I don't know why I say it. I know I have just as little an idea of what to do as she does. But we say things like that whenever someone is in a tough situation. When they need comfort. When we need comfort. My only certain advice would be that the best thing to do is just to wait and pray.
'Anissa, Evangeline, do you have something to share with the class, or are you ready to shut your mouths and pay attention to what I'm teaching?' said Mr. Watson, our math teacher. Yeah, did I mention that some people view people, especially the older you are, with brown eyes in a bad way? Almost like racism. This guy doesn't like us.
'Sorry, Mr. Watson.'
About five minutes after I get home that day, the phone rings.
'Hello?' I say.
'Anissa? ' I hear Evangeline's voice.
'Could you come with me?'
I don't even have to ask. I know exactly what she means. 'Yeah' Yeah, sure. Do you want me to meet you at your house or'' I begin.
'Just'start walking and I'll get you.'
'Um, okay.' I hang up.
'Mom! I'm going out!' I shout before closing the door.
'Okay. Be back before nine!' she shouts from the living room.
I slam the door and run. I remember that Evangeline told me to walk and I walk. I look down at my feet and suddenly slam into someone. I look up into Evangeline's brown eyes.
We don't say much.
'My parents are waiting in the car. They said it's okay that you come.' I get in the car and that's all.
We get out of the car and walk into a building that I haven't seen before. I know exactly what the building is. We go inside and find ourselves in a chamber that looked like a waiting room. All the walls are white and silent teenagers and adults sit in waiting. Some are looking around casually, some are eager, and some nervously bite their lips and stare around the room. Everyone is silent. All the rooms have a hint of asbestos and reek of formaldehyde. This is helpful to none of the brown-eyed people in the room.
Evangeline swallows hard and I gasp a little, and my breath catches in my throat.
'Evangeline, we're going to sign you in and get the paperwork, you and Anissa can go sit down,' says her mother.
Evangeline nods and we sit down. It takes about twenty minutes to fill out all of the paperwork in the enormous stack of papers.
Finally, when it's finished, we wait a few more minutes and then Evangeline's name is called.
Evangeline grips my hand. 'I really want you to be there with me,' she says.
'I will. I promise.'
We start to walk up the white hallways.
'Wait right there, miss,' a man says, putting an arm in front of me.
'Are you part of her direct family?'
'No,' says Evangeline's mom before I can respond.
'Then I'm sorry. You'll have to leave immediately, unless you're here for an appointment too?' he says.
'No. I'm not fifteen yet,' I say.
'Then I suggest you leave. Now.'
I swallow and nod. I'm not about to argue with anyone. Especially not this big, tall, foreboding man with a pointed nose, cloudy gray eyes and dusty brown hair. He is wearing all white and it makes me feel very, very dirty in the sterilized tangle of rooms. I slowly back away and begin to walk toward the glass door, covered by white blinds, looking over my shoulder the whole time. The room begins to smell like something else too. Something I can't quite identify. I push open the door and walk home with a red face. I can't calm down. I may never see my best friend the same way again. And I didn't have the guts to stand up to that guy and be with her. I wasn't there for her. I am hearing her voice in my head over and over again. 'Where were you? Where were you?'
I feel myself going crazy. And it hasn't ever started yet. No, it hasn't started.
It hasn't even started'
The next morning, I'm walking on the sidewalk to school, and I'm still trying to burn off some of my fear. My head is down and I'm walking, not running, like she told me. And I slam into someone. I look up into Evangeline's cloudy, blue eyes. They're unseeing and staring, glossy and wide. Her unblinking stare slides over to me and fix on my face.
'Anissa. It's you. Good morning.' Her voice is monotone and almost makes my name sound ugly.
'Where were you?' she asks in a light, high, soft monotone.
'Where were you?'
I swallow. The voice I knew is not there at all. It is completely evaporated. She still does not blink. Her breathing is from the mouth completely. And I can't breathe myself'