There once was a girl named Mirya. Mirya was a very sad little girl. She had long black hair that she always wore down, and sorrowful looking gray eyes.
Her eyes were the sky after a rainstorm, like clouds that had shed too much rain, but had not drifted away from the horizon yet. When Mirya was five years old her mother had been murdered. Some say it was her mother’s death that had changed Mirya’s eyes, some say it was her endless tears that made them that color.
Mirya saw her mother dying and saw the woman who had killed her mother. The woman’s name was Star, and she was Mirya’s godmother. Star was tall and thin with short straight raspberry colored hair and brown eyes. Mirya had never known her father. Star was the only human she knew and loved besides her mother. Star was never caught for killing Mirya’s mother; however, no one was found or tried on the death.
Mirya was a troubled child after her mother’s death. For a year after she would have nightmares at night where would wake up screaming. Star always came running in with a cool washcloth and a glass of warm milk. At first besides the nightmares Mirya was fine, but soon she became very quiet and rarely spoke. Star was quiet herself, and never questioned the child. If she had, she might have known Mirya was severely disturbed.
Years passed and Mirya finally went to high school. It was a large public school with bunches of teenagers, parties, and not so many rules. In elementary school everyone thought she had just been a shy child, and that it would pass when she hit puberty. It never did. Mirya stayed her quiet self, and secluded from the other students her mind filled with hysteria. She would cry sometimes, mostly at home, but sometimes at school. Behind her curtain of black hair her tears would slither down her cheeks, but no sobs would be heard.
Star finally became worried when she came into Mirya’s room one morning and her vanity mirror was shattered. Mirya lay on her bed trembling, splinters of glass caught in her hair, and little droplets of blood collecting on her right hand. She sat next to Mirya and pulled the girl into her arms. Small dew drops still wet on Mirya’s eyelashes, she sobbed and curled into Star’s arms.
Children are very impressionable beings. If one has ever had a younger sister or brother one would know that they copy everything. This is the reason as children violence, sex, and anger would be not shown at all. It damages the mind of a child, the innocence you might say.
Star took Mirya to the doctor that day. Sitting in the office Mirya did not swing her legs as she sat in the chair like most girls her age did. She looked at the ground and said not a word, and cried as Star led her by the shoulders into see the doctor. Sever depression was what Mirya was diagnosed with, and she was given pills to take twice a day, when she woke up, and when she went to bed.
Star looked at the girl who had become so fond to her. She was her child, her daughter, and Star knew that if Mirya had never seen her mother’s dying eyes, gray ones just like Mirya’s, Mirya might have been able to live a normal life. Star had etched a vivid impression into the eyes a child, a child she loved, and she had hurt Mirya internally. She had tainted her innocence, and caused those gray eyes to be clouds still moist with rain.