Sarah’s Birthday

Six thousand eyes were evenly spread across Sarah's grey bedroom ceiling.

Her room was furnished with only a white plywood table and an aluminum frame bed.

All six thousand eyes looked different, as if each belonged to another person.

Some were green, some were blue, most of them were black.

Most eyes looked tired yet tense, as if in weeks-long distress, blinking frequently.

Some eyes looked calm, slowly blinking once in a while.

All eyes looked around the room independently, carefully guiding their gaze, watching the room intently.

She rested her head against the wall as she sat lazily upon her untidy bed.

She heard her Father's footsteps coming up the stairs towards her bedroom.

Her Father gave the door a single gentle knock - suddenly all six thousand eyes jolted wide open and looked towards the door.

Slowly, tears started to form in every eye making them glisten.

The eyes shook with intensity.

The door opened.

And as the door opened, every eye blinked at once, sending a heavy rain upon her bedroom.

.

.

.

.

The door closed.

It was her birthday and she had nothing.