I wrote this a few weeks ago during my College Statistics class (I know, I know, I really should be doing my work, but math is just sooo boring). I'm thinking of submitting it to our school's literary magazine, but I'd like to polish it up a bit. Any comments will be greatly appreciated.

So, without further ado, I present to you...


Pale Grey Eyes

by Kyrianne Stryker


She stood alone in the middle of the street.

She saw nothing. Not the rain-slicked cars shooting past her through puddles of dirt and grime, not the light of the lamp posts as they gently winking into their evening existence, not the rolling danger and the clenching pain in her heart.

She was a shell. The fire that once lurked in her eyes and her soul had long since burnt out. She was full to the brim with the despair and damp darkness that surrounded her.

The rain sent the tears down her face that she was unable to cry. It sung the emptiness of her core as it pattered softly on the cracked pavement.

A taxi slowed and paused beside her, crawling at a snail's pace as the driver peered from his window at her. He stopped; his window rolled down.

His gruff, concerned voice broke through her stupor and floated to her like he was in a cloud. It drifted through her mind like a lost soul before she realized he was speaking to her.

"Are you alright, Miss? Do you need a ride somewhere?"

She turned slowly, as if in a dream. His eyes were so wide, deep and brown and naive, even with his apparent age of stubble and jobs and a driver's license. His eyes bored into her, mirroring the desperation at her answer that resonated in him.

She opened her mouth to speak, but all that escaped was a fireworks of silent coughing, leaving her heaving and bent as she fought to regain her breath.

Her vision clouded. A horrified gasp and the echoing slam of the car door bit into her, and she winced. Warm hands grasped her, dragged her, pushed her onto the stained seat of the yellow taxi and closed the door, ignored the way she leeched his heat, the way she weighted as much as a feather of black.

The melody of the rain was muted behind steel and glass.

He watched her carefully in his rearview mirror as he drove, windshield wipers shrieking to the time of his heartbeat.

Her eyes were grey, unmoving, unemotional. She didn't blink. She just stared onward, lost in herself and lost to the world.

He shivered, and pulled his coat tightly around himself as he spoke again. "Is there anywhere you need to go, Miss?"

Her pale lips were the only things to move as she voicelessly mouthed the words to her destination, oddly detached yet still insistent.

He didn't understand. He decided she was hurt, sick, to take her to the hospital. She was too pale...

He watched her curiously in his mirror. A pale girl, grey eyes, dull platinum hair, a white tattered dressing gown. Silent as a mouse, silent as the grave.

He turned his attention back on the road. The rain washed in torrents down the windshield, fogging and distorting an already hazy world.

He could feel her staring. It sent a tingle up his spine, sent the hair at the nape of his neck standing on end.

Unnerved, he looked back at her. She hadn't moved, hadn't stopped her mad, personal musings of the secrets of the universe. Her pale grey eyes shot a straight line through him and his soul and continued on. His skin crawled.

A beat of something esoteric crackled through the air like electricity. Her eyes flashed, mouth wrenched wide in a grotesque grimace. She moved, her very existence shimmered frenetically. From her monstrous maw ripped a scream, the scream of the Furies and of a fallen angel.

He found himself slamming his foot on the breaks, eyes snapping back to the distant world. He swerved. There was a deer, frozen in terror just as he found himself frozen inside, even as his hands and body pantomimed what was ingrained into his muscles long ago.

When he finally found the side of the road, windshield wipers flapping desperately in harried consolation, he was finally able to breathe. He turned wearily, formulating a thanks to the girl for her sharp perception and reflex.

No words left him as his gaze fell on the seat behind him. The girl was gone. His mind was silent as a mime as he stared. In his memory, the haunting visions of pale grey eyes stared back.

Somewhere, in the middle of a storm-soaked street, she stood alone.

---

Well, what say you? What are some parts I could rewrite? What parts did you like the best? Like I said, any input would be appreciated. :)

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Originally Posted by Kyrianne

… as they gently winking into their evening existence…

There seems to be a little tense issue: ‘winked’ instead of ‘winking’.

Originally Posted by Kyrianne

… not the rolling danger and the clenching pain in her heart.

I don’t really understand how she could’ve seen this even if she hadn’t been blind. The rest of the list are of things that she really could see, and then we get here and I got a little lost. I can’t be sure what you mean by ‘rolling danger’. Does that mean it’s coming towards her? That it’s already there, but just keeping going? I don’t really understand.
As far as the pain in her heart, I think it might be better served if you mentioned it when you mention her soul being full of despair a few sentences down.

Originally Posted by Kyrianne

… in her eyes and her soul had long since burnt out.

Not a major issue, but you could drop the second ‘her’.
“… in her eyes and soul…”

Originally Posted by Kyrianne

She was full to the brim with the despair and damp darkness that surrounded her.

I feel like this contradicts your previous statements. If she’s hollow, how can she be full of anything? I like the idea, but I think it needs to be stated differently so that you retain the fact that she is empty.

Originally Posted by Kyrianne

The rain sent the tears down her face that she was unable to cry.

Another idea I really like, but I think it could be approached differently. I think it’s the ‘rain sent’ bit. I feel that since the rain are the tears, they aren’t really sending them.

Originally Posted by Kyrianne

It sung the emptiness of her core…

This is a personal preference, but what about changing ‘sung’ to ‘echoed’, since she’s hollow. It would serve to further drive the ‘empty core’ idea.

Originally Posted by Kyrianne

She turned slowly, as if in a dream.

While I like where you’re going with it, this is the third simile almost in a row. (The other two being “like he was in a cloud” and “like a lost soul”.) I think you should change one of them to a metaphor just to change it up a bit.

Originally Posted by Kyrianne

… brown and naive…

I’m pretty sure Mene. doesn’t do it, but just so you know when you submit it to the magazine, the ‘i’ in ‘naive’ has an umlaut over it.

Originally Posted by Kyrianne

… even with his apparent age of stubble and jobs and a driver's license.

I understand what you mean, but the sentence seems odd. I think you can end the sentence at ‘apparent age’ and put the bit about his stubble, job and diver’s license in a fragmented sentence after it. Or put it after a semi-colon.
I also think ‘driver’s license’ can be dropped, since it is part of his job. However I do like that there are three things listed.
“… even with his apparent age; his stubble, his job, his (item number three).”

Originally Posted by Kyrianne

… mirroring the desperation at her answer that resonated in him.

You… You lost me. I got that his eyes are mirroring her desperation, but it sounds a little like her answer is already resonating in him. I’d restructure the sentence.

Originally Posted by Kyrianne

She opened her mouth to speak, but all that escaped was a fireworks of silent coughing…

There seems to be a plural discrepancy here. You could either go:
“…were fireworks of silent coughing…” or “…was a firework’s display of silent coughing…”

Originally Posted by Kyrianne

Warm hands grasped her, dragged her, pushed her onto the stained seat of the yellow taxi and closed the door, ignored the way she leeched his heat, the way she weighted as much as a feather of black.

I think this sentence is too long. I’d end it at ‘closed the door’ and start a new one at ‘ignored the way’.

Originally Posted by Kyrianne

… the way she weighted as much as a feather of black.

‘weighed’ instead of ‘weighted’. And I’m a little confused as to why the color of the feather is important in a description of weight. It feels a little needless. I’d drop it.

Originally Posted by Kyrianne

The melody of the rain was muted behind steel and glass.

For all my picking at the piece, I really like this sentence.

Originally Posted by Kyrianne

… lost in herself and lost to the world.

I feel like there isn’t enough connection between these two to be so close together.
“… lost in herself as much as to the world”? Well that doesn’t sound much better, but do you see what I mean about relating the two together? If you don’t want to do that, I suggest either dropping one or putting the second in a separate (albeit fragmented) sentence.

Originally Posted by Kyrianne

He decided she was hurt, sick, to take her to the hospital.

‘to take her to the hospital’ doesn’t seem to flow quiet as well as ‘hurt, sick’. I suggest making the ‘to take her to the hospital’ a separate sentence.

Originally Posted by Kyrianne

… dull platinum hair…

I feel like ‘platinum’ is too shiny, too… alive for the feeling your going for here.

Originally Posted by Kyrianne

Silent as a mouse, silent as the grave.

I’d choose one or the other. They don’t seem related enough to use both. Personally, I’d choose ‘silent as the grave’, I think it fits the theme better.

Originally Posted by Kyrianne

She moved, her very existence shimmered frenetically.

I’d change the comma to a semi-colon.

Originally Posted by Kyrianne

… the scream of the Furies and of a fallen angel.

Can you pull these two together more? Furies, to me, mean that she is screaming in some kind of guilt, where as ‘fallen angel’ seems to have a far more maniacal connotation (thanks to the original fallen angel). So I’d choose which ever one you think has a more fitting connotation.

Originally Posted by Kyrianne

His mind was silent as a mime as he stared.

I feel like ‘as a mime’ is a bit too… light-hearted for the piece at this point. I think leaving it as ‘was silent’ without a simile would be fine.

Originally Posted by Kyrianne

In his memory, the haunting visions of pale grey eyes stared back.

Somewhere, in the middle of a storm-soaked street, she stood alone.

What.
Now this is what ending a story is about! =D
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I won’t lie – when I first started reading this I was worried it was going to end up being a love story about a nice cabbie helping some girl with a horrible-pity-me life. Most stories that focus so heavily on despair, especially in the beginning, end up being like that.
You have no idea how happy I am to see that I was totally and completely wrong in every way.
As I incoherently stated above, the ending was fantastic. Any minor issue I found in the critique above was more than worth passing over for the end.
For the sake of every person who reads the literary magazine at your school, please send it in to them. My school had a literary magazine and if it had had anything as well worth a read as this it might have done worlds better.
Congratulations on the great short story.

My only question is if ‘she’ is a banshee? And, if so, are banshee’s known for having platinum hair? If so, then toss away my suggestion about that earlier. I don’t know anything about banshee’s except that they shriek when someone is (is about to be?) dead.