The Life of Mia – Behind Her Hazel Eyes (1)

Untitled drawing (4)

Pt. 15 – Previous parts in the serie can be found here.

A weekly blog serie where I share pieces of Mia’s stories and journey (as I’m currently writing the book version!) Mia – the rebellious one, struggles to leave the past behind and face her fears. It’s been clear, long before, that the choices she makes tend to her in trouble. But what happens when the present forces her to let out a long kept secret?


It’s Saturday night and my second night shift is starting to take its toll on me. I can sense her brutal wish to escape the ‘big brother’ surveillance. Who can blame her, I would want to escape too (mind you I have). I don’t want to shadow her every move but it’s the order I’ve been given. Having been in her shoes once, I’ve come to experience that honesty is the best policy. Therefore, I don’t try to hide it. It’s obvious I’m watching her every move and to ease my guilt, I tell myself it’s for her own good.

I can see the resignation on her face, showing her contempt before she marches down the stairs to the basement. Unexpectedly she stops in her tracks and faces me. “Is this necessary?”, she asks but she continues off before I can answer. I know that face of resignation. If you ask my mother and Maddie, they would probably explain in details; that I’m a pro at making it.

I remember all too well when the workers at the “home” where I was staying  for trouble teens always gave it a name – I was either being difficult or complicated – at times, both. Back then, mother defined me as trouble who needed to be dealt by professionals and with absolute causion. And with any unhappy expressions on my face resulted in me being difficult. If I gave a sigh, I was being too dramatic. Everything coming from an emotion point of view was scrutinized and analyzed. So, in this moment where the table’s have turn on me, I understand this young girl’s resignation and the rolling of the eyes.

She’s been living here, this safe haven for troubled teens, for almost a year. Reading her files I discover why she is “troubled” and recently suicidal at the age of 16. The protocol now was to shadow her every movement when awake. Lock away all sharp elements and keep her feeling secure. It’s all just a cry for help, they said during the meeting on Wednesday. I say, don’t underestimate a cry. One tear can evoke an ocean.

“Well…” I start whilst checking our surrounding, I’ve never liked the basement. Too many rooms and I could never find myself to check every one of them in fear of evil lurking on the other side of the door. But I also turn around to check if anyone’s eavesdropping our conversation. She enters her room, arms cross and gives me a ‘what-do-you-have-to say’ look. I continue my rant, which is what it sounds to me whenever they talked or explained something. “It’s probably not nescessery, Emma. But it’s protocol.” 

As I finish my rant I want to comfort her but I know she’ll only push me away. I want to tell her she’ll make it through and maybe, just maybe things will get better. For that’s the thing, we don’t know for we know nothing of the future and remember everything of the past. She seems anxious. Lost even. I want to pull her closer and give her a hug (that particular hug the right people never gave me in needed times) but I don’t, we maintain our distance. She pulls away and starts fumbling while cleaning her room. Mind that the time is almost midnight. An hour until silence is supposed to surround the house from noisy boys and their action movies filled with heavy explosions and wounded hero and heroines that always seem to win in the end. Unlike reality.

I mind my business and keep my distance while she seems occupied. She pretends I’m not present and passes me from one side of her room to her bathroom, leaving a trail of clothes and eventually slamming the door behind her. Three minutes passes. I try to avoid knocking. I’m pretty sure shadowing her further in will break several acts and conventions. I wait. And for a brief moment I sense that silence seems unrealistic to expect as this girl’s demons appear to be tormenting her. Ergo, my hope for quiet hours of complete darkness quickly vanishes into thin air.


Pt. Two of ‘Behind Her Hazel Eyes’ will be posted next Friday!

Happy Friday


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