Nobody knows the color of his eyes.
Not me, not my mom, not my brother. Not even my Grandma or Grandpa know.
Who’s eyes, you’re asking?
That’s a silly question. I don’t know. I really, really don’t know. None of us even know what his face looks like. We don’t want to know.
So yeah. Nobody knows.
All we know is his name, Korehina, and the feeling that comes over us whenever he’s near.
My mom says she can feel him when she’s working. When she’s home alone and click-click-clacking on her computer. He never shows up when you’re with people, she tells my brother and I, only when home alone. For her, she says she can hear his heart and her own. And as she writes an email, her throat goes completely dry and it won’t get better even if she drinks a gallon of 7-Up. She knows he’s coming closer when she starts to cough. Then she closes her eyes shut and whisper-sings a lullaby in her cracky, high-pitched voice. She says he goes away after that. But never for very long.
My grandma doesn’t believe in him. She says the entire time she’s lived here, she’s never seen him. Never felt him. But I think she’s lying. I think she’s lying to herself so she doesn’t have to think about Dad.
My brother believes. He’s quite honestly terrified of Korehina. He always covers his ears whenever someone says his name. And he hates being home alone. So do I. He says he’s never felt him before, since he makes it a point to be with people. But sometimes, when I wake up in the morning in our shared bedroom, he has a pale, fear-stricken face, and I wonder if maybe Korehina came.
My grandpa’s always been soft. I think he was the one Korehina came for first. But even though he’s soft, he’s smart. I think that’s why he’s stayed safe for so long. Still, sometimes when I come home with my brother a little later than normal, we find Grandpa sitting at the dinner table, eyes squeezed shut and veiny hands clutching the edge.
I should probably explain why we fear Korehina. And why my Dad isn’t...here anymore.
There’s a reason none of us know what color his eyes are. Or the shape of his face. Or the color of his skin (although Grandpa always says it’s a pasty yellow, whatever that means.)
Okay, okay, back on topic. I don’t...really know why, but Korehina can only hurt us if we look at him. Specifically his eyes.
Supposedly, he’s been after our family for generations, and that’s why Grandpa knows the most. Since Grandpa has been dealing with him for the longest. Or maybe Korehina just likes the house. I don’t think we’ve ever moved, ever even thought about moving, which is strange enough since that seems like the easiest way to escape.
Maybe he would follow us anyway.
And...my Dad...he took after Gramps. Always so soft. Always so nice. Just, not as smart. Mom says she heard his scream the day he died. She never told my brother and I the actual story, but I could hear her muttering it to Grandma and Grandpa. She was almost home...and when she heard an ear-piercing screech coming from our apartment, she started running. And when she opened the door, there was nothing. Just...a sort of complete and utter silence. Not the kind of silence you hear at school during free-time, when you can hear the air ‘brring’ and the sound of pencils scratching.
It was just pure silence.
And a feeling of...satisfaction, I think she said. There was a feeling of satisfaction floating through the room.
But when Mom walked into their shared bedroom, there he was; kneeling on the floor, frozen. His eyes and mouth were wide open, and his skin was ice cold. Then she ran. She screamed and ran and ran and ran.
Then when she came back...he was gone. No more body. The last time Mom ever saw Dad was when he was on his knees, face suspended in a permanent mask of terror. At least the last time I saw him he was smiling.
…
I don’t even know why I’m telling you this. Maybe I just needed someone to talk to.
Sighing, I close my eyes again in memory. Then I hear the sound of a door closing and the lock clicking and I can feel him. For me, I start to sweat. My hands get clammy and my heart starts to pound and my fingers start to twitch. And as I feel everything around me get hot as my body temperature drops, my eyes fly open. I need to get out of here and find Mom-
Ah.
I see.
His eyes are green.
