Otsego: Behind the Twisted Smile "Green Eyes"

by Carbine S. Vilch Tue Jul 08, 2014 2:01 am

A cat stood at the window in his office, wearing navy blue fatigues. His eyes glazed from lack of sleep. The red patch of hair he had left on his head do to the mechanical separation on his face caught most of the shimmering daylight instead of on his green eye. He looked troubled, as if regret or guilt had been placed in his heart. He sighed and turned away from the window. He sat down at his desk, looking at the latest news article print that read, “THE NIGHTMARE IS FINALLY OVER! – victory at last!!!” Such an event as the end of a deadly conflict would usually bring joy to one’s heart. But not this orange tabby feline, for him, it was only the beginning of a healing process.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. A voice of a young woman was audible, “General Vilch. It’s Drea. Request permission to enter?” The general paused for a moment, looked at the newspaper again, then back at the door, “Permission granted.” He spoke softly. Drea entered, a young wolf looking about her mid 20’s, her red eyes locked with the cat’s as she walked up to him, holding what looked like a few charcoaled books. “I have something for you, Carbine. You may want to look at them. I believe that it may, possibly, give you some sense of closure. Though he was the enemy… I know he was your only sibling.” Carbine looked down at the books that she extended to him, “What are these?”

Drea shrugged her shoulders, “Journals perhaps, but, they contained childhood pictures featuring you as a kitten, they were glued onto the pages, as if, at one point. Otsego thought the world of you.” Carbine’s face contorted into a look of curiosity, he grabbed the journals from Drea’s paws and examined them. On the front of the two thick journals, one white and one black. The white one had “Otsey’s Journal” Scribbled in bad hand writing on it, appearing to be in teenagers hand writing. The black one was blank on the front, but on the back, it read in knife marks on the leather, “Read. Then. Know.”

Carbine rubbed his chin, “Read…. Then… Know? Know what?” He looked up at Drea who nodded to him. “I’ll let you be. I’m sure you’re just as curious as I was, but reading those is out of my jurisdiction. Good night, General.” The female wolf about-faced and walked away from his desk then closed the door behind her. Carbine examined the leather booklets again after a few moments, the temperature of the office seemed to change, not only that, but the atmosphere itself felt like it was pushing him to read the journals. Drawing him closure with curiosity and a sense of fear, what had he written in these? Could they explain his deceased brother’s uprising? How he became the demon that struck fear into so many? So many questions he couldn’t answer. Before him were the missing pieces. Carbine felt it. He knew it.

He paused for a moment, then took a deep breath and picked up the white school journal. He opened it and the first few lines read, “Memories. Never Forgotten.”