Eyes of Osiris

Eyes of Osiris

A Short Story

Something’s wrong…

Mara clutched tighter to the stair railing bars, her brows knitted together and her face twisted downward in a worried frown. Boisterous laughter bounced off the walls, the incessant chatter of guests down below. She heard the click-clacking of high-heels and Oxford shoes she imagined were adorned with patent leather, accompanied by the soft bell-like jingle of jewelry. The scent of alcohol permeated the air, frequently causing her nose to scrunch up at the unpleasant smell.

God knows how much she hated that stench.

She yawned and rubbed the remaining amount of sleep from her eyes. A spark of  frustration ignited within her core.

Mara wished she stayed asleep, but the sudden feeling of wrongness that had settled within her body had not only immediately woke her up but also kept her from sleep. “It has to be past midnight by now…”, she lazily thought.

Her legs dangled off the edge of the staircase railing as she eyed the people below. None of the guests seemed to pay her any mind, aside from the few that would occasionally look up and say hello to her. On any other day, Mara would’ve gone down there and personally greeted them back with twice as much vigor. But all she could do was anxiously glance around the room, a constant sense of foreboding gnawing at her gut.

Mara had lost her vision at a young age. The details of what happened that day were lost to her, locked away in the deepest parts of her mind. However, a small part of her was happy she couldn’t recall such a horrific memory. Losing a sense as vital as sight would be crippling for anyone. Mara couldn’t imagine the amount of turmoil anyone would feel in that moment, especially for a child. Reliving through something like that was something she was content without. There were times she’d often miss being able to see the numerous colors that the world had to offer, as opposed to the eternal darkness that now constantly surrounds her.  But overtime, it was something Mara has learned to be content with. She’s long since accepted the fact that she won’t be able to use her eyes again.

And yet…

A dark background with a white silhouette of a woman breathing.

There were these rare, unpredictable times Mara would see the white silhouette of someone within the never-ending darkness. The odd occurrences would be so few and far between that Mara would eventually forget it until she’d unexpectedly see it again years later. The last time it happened was when she and her father visited her sick grandmother. Mara saw her in extreme detail, every wrinkle on her face, every strand of hair, and she even saw the creases on her clothes. Mara loved watching her face light up with joy anytime she laughed. Her mood soured, however, when she found out that her grandmother had passed away later that same night. She told her father that she was able to see her grandma for the whole day before she passed, but Mara could tell that he never really believed her. At the time, she was upset with her father’s skepticism. But now that she’s older, she knew his doubt was reasonable. Mara was only in grade school when she told him about the strange occurrence.

That was almost nine years ago and she hasn’t seen anyone else since then. Mara had always cherished the last moments she had spent with her grandmother. Replaying the images of her grandmother’s face always made her chest bubble with adoration. It was a sweet memory of someone she loved, but she always doubted the credibility of the vision. She was young, creative, and extremely imaginative. Looking back, Mara wasn’t even sure if the image she saw of her grandmother was real or something created by her overactive imagination.

But now?

Anywhere her eyes landed, the silhouette of someone would appear in the darkness. She could see all the women and the outlines of their long, luxurious dresses adorned with accessories that looked equally as expensive and the men who wore classy suits and tuxedos. Mara could see how people’s faces would light up with joy when they found something funny or how their brows would furrow with disgust whenever they were displeased. Newcomers would come in through the front door every so often, and she could spot their silhouettes from afar with startling ease.

Mara’s sure her younger self would be thrilled that the odd ability had flared up once again. It’s an opportunity to use the one major sense she’d thought she would never have been able to use again. She should be excited. Who else can get a chance like this? But no matter how much Mara tried to stifle her anxiety, the feeling would come back tenfold.

“Something’s wrong…”, she muttered. “But what?”

Mara’s face hardened and a spark of determination burst through her. She stood up and reluctantly walked down the stairs. When she reached the bottom, she carefully looked around. Mara watched as numerous silhouettes laughed and danced and ate without a care. The festive image almost tempted her to join in on the fun.


  With a confident step forward, Mara began to maneuver through the crowd, careful not to run into anyone and keeping herself relatively close to the walls. Usually, she would need something or someone to guide her. But Mara has been to this place many times before when her father hosted previous events. The layout of the house was practically engraved in her mind. She knew where to go.

Something felt off. The growing weight on her chest made that abundantly clear. But she didn’t know what she was searching for or why she felt like this. Mara’s sure that her newly acquired eyesight was partially responsible for her unease. But, deep down, something told her that’s not the only reason. She was missing something; there was a jigsaw piece she needed to obtain to complete the puzzle.

Mara was so engrossed in her thoughts she wasn’t properly watching her surroundings. She bumped into something hard and nearly fell over. She put her hand in front of her, assuming that she must’ve bumped into a chair or table. Instead, she felt cloth under her palm. Looking ahead, Mara saw the silhouette of a middle-aged man, one she found astoundingly familiar. His brows shot up in surprise when his eyes landed on her. “Mara?” Recognition dawned on her the moment he spoke. Meekly, she waved and gave him a small smile. “Hi, Dad.” He turned around to fully face her, his brows knitted in confusion. “What are you doing up? I thought you said that you didn’t want to attend this time?”

“I got thirsty. I was headed to the kitchen to get some water but got lost in the crowd near the entrance,” she lied.  Mara’s positive that if he knew the real reason, she’d be admitted to the nearest psyche ward. He opened his mouth, most likely to ask a follow-up question, before another voice cut in.

“Well, who’s this?”

Mara turned towards where she heard it but was confused when she didn’t see a silhouette of anyone in front of her. Looking back at her father, she saw how his expression brightened. He gave a small wave, an apologetic smile adorning his face. “Sorry about the interruption.”

Her father gestured to her. “I’ve told you about Mara, haven’t I?” He gently guided Mara to his side. “This is my daughter. She helped me organize the event. I’m happy that you two can…”

His words began to blur out in her mind as he went on. Her gaze was solely focused ahead. Panic seized her heart the longer she stared. Mara had just heard their voice, someone was definitely there. “So why can’t I see him?” she thought.

“Miss Mara?”

She was brought abruptly out of her thoughts as her attention snapped back to the two men. Mara heard a chuckle from the visitor. “I asked if it was alright if I shook your hand?” he reiterated. The silence that followed stretched for a little too long before his words finally registered in her mind.

“Yeah. Y-Yes, of course. I’m sorry, I got a little lost in thought.” Reluctantly, Mara lifted her hand for the man to shake. A bitter cold ran down her spine at his touch, forcing herself to suppress the shudder that nearly wracked her body. The mask she hastily weaved to hide her rising panic slowly started to unravel at the seams the longer she stood in his presence.

“It’s nice to finally meet you. Your father has told me so much about you,” he cheerfully shared. Mara only hummed in response, a nervous laugh slipping past her lips.  She was more than grateful when her father took the conversation from there, allowing herself to take the backseat.

Mara took one last glance around the main room. As expected, silhouettes appeared in her line of sight, some clustered together while others were more isolated. She looked back at her father. He was happily chatting with the visitor, who still remained absent from her vision. Mara thought back to the last time her odd vision flared up nine years ago.

The last person she saw was her grandmother, who later died that same night.

Mara didn’t like what her eyes were insinuating.

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