Angel Eyes

Aleesee Stonheim had spent many nights dreaming of the day she would meet Edward Houston, and now it was finally here.

In her entirety of twenty-five years, she had never been an early riser, and yet today she was up in the still pre-dawn hours. The crisp cool November air and blue light overcast the outdoors. Indoors, Aleesee stood in front of her fogged-up mirror, brushing her straight brown hair. Dragging a cloth around the mirror, she stared at her reflection and a slow smile etched her freckled face. It wasn’t every day you met the man you’ve been desperately seeking an audience with for the last five years.

Glancing around her beige bedroom walls, she noticed the countless colourful magazine and black and white newspaper torn images she had hung of him. It wouldn’t matter what they had all said, for now she would finally have the real thing. Obsession? Ambition? Whatever you called it, it had paid off.

Aleesee grabbed her keys from the dusty unkempt mantel as her phone rang. It was her fiancé. She declined the call. He could wait, Edward couldn’t. They’d hardly have any time together, as it was, there wasn’t a moment to lose. She wasn’t a heartless woman, honest to God, in fact she knew her fiancé deserved much better because really who would let their woman whisper another man’s name in her dreams and just softly stroke her back to sleep? No, Aleesee knew she was lucky. Her friends told her she had an obsession. Let him go, they had said or it’ll consume you but her mind would never let her know peace if she didn’t meet him.

The truth was Aleesee knew she wasn’t Edward's type. She had known that for a while now. He went for blue eyes; he said they were angelic. She stopped by the heavily chained door, her gaze landing on a half faded, decade-old polaroid of her and her sister. Her sister with her long blonde hair, doe blue eyes, and innocent smile. She was Edward’s type. Oh, how Aleesee wished it had been her and not her sister. No matter, today she would have angel eyes as well. She placed the soft curved disc on her fingertip and in a swift motion, she went from her dull brown eyes to those bright blue eyes. Angel eyes. She had a feeling that these eyes would have more meaning to Edward. Edward. Edward.

For five years, Aleesee hadn’t opened this package but now it seemed fitting. She dragged out a fraying cardboard box, duct taped and dust laden. She pressed her hand against her nose, the box reeked; it had a musty damp odour to it. Pushing it back she slit through the cardboard. Her hands hovered over the white silk, her thumb eventually pressing against the vintage Dolce & Gabbana neck label. The cloth draped tightly around her waist, and she zipped the dress up as it cinched her skin. For a moment, she felt bile rise up her throat and her composure slipping. Forcing herself to stand straight she stared at herself, or rather, her sister. That’s who she saw staring back. Her fingers gripped the marble countertop, knuckles whitening. No. No. Dragging a hand through her hair and smoothening the dress she looked back. Yes, yes, this had been her sister’s dress. It was what she had worn when she first and last met Edward. For some reason the once flowy silk material felt suffocating. Panic. She felt it stirring through her stomach. She gripped the smooth straps tugging at them, her nails prying into her soft skin. No. Please no. Not today, she thought as she knocked over short orange translucent bottles of white pills. So many thoughts were swirling through her head, but only one stopped her in her tracks. Edward. How would Edward feel when he saw her in this dress? Everything always came down to him. Her breathing calmed and she smoothened out her hair. She imagined how his expressive lips would curve, his dark eyes would focus, and his expression. Oh, that expression would make it worth it all.

One hour, and she’d see Edward. Just a meager sixty minutes and it would all be over. Everything she had waited for in these five years would come true. All she had to do was wait, wait until the longest, slowest sixty minutes of her life passed. As Aleesee parked her blue sedan, she noticed the press with their cameras and microphones and the massing crowd with their fists held high, voices loud, and poster boards in hand. The only logical conclusion Aleessee could come up with was that they were mad, upset, angry even. As she stepped out of her car and tightened the round buttons of her wool coat, she conceded that she could not blame them. Edward was due to make a public appearance and that had just been cancelled. All these people were here for him and only him. Their whole day depended on him, and being cruelly deprived of his presence after already going five years without any sign of life from him was torturous. Aleesee felt for them, she really did, but she wouldn’t give up her chance to see him. Walking up the cobbled steps and into the arching dark building, she resolutely decided that she’d be their voice, after all they shared the same desperate, obsessive, ambitious sentiments when it came to Edward.

Voices, overlapping voices, spoke loud, soft, passionate, angry, but to Aleesee, it was all meaningless chatter; she drowned out their voices. She let the splintered piece of wood she held pierce through her fingers until she saw thick drops of crimson splatter on the white silk. Good. Now, that’s more fitting. It’s time. He’s almost here. He’ll be in your hands. He’s here, he’s - and suddenly she felt her breath hitch, the splintered piece of wood falling down, her hand idly lying across the itchy wool. Edward Houston was here in the flesh. He didn’t see her, not yet. To him, she was another body amongst a mass of people vying, aching to see him. He had aged. Clad in black and greys, his hair a disheveled mess with an ashy stubble. She closed her eyes, and her sister’s teasing voice rang through her head. You know, Aleesee, it’s true the eyes are the window to the soul. Eyes. The eyes.

She sought his eyes, for her sake, she sought them, for a sign, some indication, some remorse, some redemption, but she found none. All she saw was his flat affect, his unblinking, steady gaze. His parted lips curled into a slow grin. Her hands gripped the small wooden bench, and she braced herself as the final call came. The gavel hit the lectern, and a life sentence announced. A murmur spread through the court with universal assent, a punishment befitting a remorseless serial killer but Aleesee disagreed. No. It wasn’t enough. Her sister would never smile, laugh, breathe or experience the first fall of snow again. Aleese would never get back the five years she spent chasing and obsessing over Edward bloody murderer Houston. She knew she’d never get her sanity back. She felt it slipping the day they found her sister’s bloodied body wasting, rotting away in a dirty worn down shed. No, it really wasn’t enough.

Aleesee smiled; from a young age, she was told that perhaps she was a little more impulsive and easily angered than her peers. Her sister would have to physically drag her away before a fight erupted. Too bad for Edward Houston that she wasn’t here today. Aleesee’s rage would win. Standing up, dropping her coat, she broke the peace, and all eyes turned towards her, as did his. In that moment, all that mattered was that he knew, and oh, he did. His eyebrows lifted, his eyes blinking, stilling and then widening. His gaze followed the dress and came to rest on her eyes. Her blue eyes. Realization. He remembered her. Remembered what he had done to her sister. Good. As she lifted her arm, she regretted that it would be fast, and fast it was. The last thing Edward Houston saw as the bullets pierced his chest was blue eyes. Those angel eyes. His downfall.