Before I tell this story I will need to travel back to my birth in the 1970’s. This is where two major elements of the story originate from. Call it fate, or a random shuffle of the universe, these two things led to torture, violence, and my death later on.
I was born to a married couple who could not conceive. They really loved each other, and they had a home and everything that they could have wished for in life but no children. So they decided to give IVF with a surrogate a go. It worked out.
To my parents I was a miracle, to my religious grandma I was an immaculate conception.
I was born in the early hours of a Thursday morning during a thunderstorm, and by pure chance, (or by ordinance of Thor) my eyes bore an iris mutation in the shape of lightening. Like a pitch black lightening strike through pale grey.
As I grew pale green patches appeared amongst the grey, and my aunt likened it moss on a dry stone wall, speckled with luminous yellow pigments.
Later on it was noticed that my irises narrowed to slits in very bright light to look like cats eyes. If you didn’t look closely enough though you wouldn’t see it. Most people never noticed it. Those that did, didn’t usually respond very well to it. Some people thought that it was cool, but mostly responses were a mixture of spite or fear. I just got on with life and ignored that I had it.
It is this tiny mutation and the pale colour of my eyes that later in life drew the attention of my murderers. I now wonder that if I had not been born with it, would I have slipped their attention and lived?
Solve This Murder 