Short Story: Unearthed Secret

I was born with one brown eye and one black one. The brown eye sees things as they are, and although the black one does not always see the things in front of me, it can see much more.

It sees the past.

With my black eye, I have found more people than I can count, but this time, I’m the one who needs to be found.

A sudden landslide has buried our car. No one is seriously hurt, but none of us can get out either.

Once everything settled, the first thing everyone reached for was our phones. Coverage is almost non-existent in the mountain ranges, but Jenny’s phone has reception, and I use that to call Officer Farah.

Many years ago, Uncle James insisted on putting a tracker on me. It comes in handy now. A rescue team mobilises to our area in record time. The problem is pinpointing our actual location.

The dense forest canopy and mountainous landscape interferes with the tracker, making an accurate reading difficult. That’s fine. Now that the team has our general location, they have a much smaller area to comb through to get to us.

But that’ll take time, especially because they need to be extra careful so that they don’t accidentally hit us instead of rock, or crush us in the process.

I can speed things up.

I look at the faces of my fellow trapped passengers. These are the faces I have practically grown up with. Uncle James wants to keep my eye a secret, but surely this can be an exception?

My hand reaches for my bottle and I take a drink to wet my dry throat. Once done, I grip the bottle with fingers tense from nerves and anticipation.

look at the rocky debris.

At the edge of the landslide, an excavator waited while rescuers carefully cleared the debris. 

“Can you keep a secret?” I ask.

Four faces turn to me and eagerly pounce on the topic.

“What secret?” Bruce asks.

I pry my fingers off my bottle and gesture for Jenny’s phone. “Gimme.”

Jenny hands her phone over. I lift the phone closer to my mouth, happy to see that my hand is almost steady.

“Officer Farah, I’ll direct you to our location. Please get the excavator ready.”


With my attention on the outside, it’s easy to imagine myself at my desk back at the missing persons unit, relaying directions to the rescue team through the officers. First I use the excavator to point out our exact location buried under the debris, then it’s their turn to ask me questions as they asses the area and fine tune their approach.

After I’ve exhausted all the information I can provide, I keep my black eye on the situation outside, and reluctantly turn my attention back to the inside of the car.

To the four curious faces around me.

Once again, Bruce is the first to speak.

“You’re psychic?”

A bark of laughter escapes my lips. That’s a story for another time.

“No, I’m not.”

I take a breath, feeling a little like a superhero unmasking for the first time. I’ve wondered about moments like this before. Now I get to see if expectations match reality.

“It’s my eye.”

I lift a hand to point at my black eye. There’s no turning back now.

“You already know that I’m blind in one eye. But that’s not the whole story. This eye is blind, but it can see the past. I used this sight to see the outside.”

My friends do not disappoint.

“So you are psychic.” “Is that why you always find everything?” “How far can you see?”

My black eye sees the past, not the future. I don’t know what kind of repercussions I’ll face in the future by revealing my secret, or even if my black eye will remain a secret after we get out, but right now, it is a welcome distraction while we wait to be set free.



Genre: fantasy

Part of the Mismatched Eyes universe.

Short Story: Eye of the Dragon

A dragon protected the village. But now, he stood by as bandits ravaged the village.

Because these thieves took his eyes.

A dragon with no eyes had no life. In their greed, these thieves had doomed them all. But she wasn’t interested in them. She wanted the dragon’s eyes. Once she returned the eyes to their proper place, the dragon would show the bandits theirs.

She crept through the thief’s camp while her friends distracted the thieves, going straight for the dragon eyes’ distinctive glow. In one quick jab, she snatched the bag off the ground and sprinted towards the dragon, her brother right behind her.

Danger pressed in from all sides, from the attackers bent on destruction, from the thieve unwilling to let their spoils go, from the wrecked buildings that threatened to collapse at any moment. She kept her eyes and ears open and pushed through her fear. The sooner the dragon regained his eyes, the sooner he could protect them.

At the foot of the dragon’s hill, her brother shoved her to the ground. Something broke beneath her as her brother knocked the attacker off the hill.

“Sorry,” her brother said and pulled her up.

She looked into her bag in horror. “The eye.”

Instead of two whole eyes, she now had one eyes and two parts of an eye. Could the dragon still move with only one eye?

“One eye is better than none.” Her brother pulled her back to their goal. Together, they continued their run up the hill to the dragon.

Near the top of the dragon’s hill, the undamaged eye broke out of the bag and shot towards the dragon. The massive eyelid blinked and the glass-like eye fired to life.

The dragon launched off the hill and swept through the village like a shadow of judgement. In one sweep, not a single bandit remained. The dragon had saved them once more.

But what about the other eye?

She didn’t know what to do, but the village lorekeeper did.

“Sleep with the eye to your heart tonight. The dragon will do the rest.”

That night, she slept with the broken pieces cradled to her chest. The next morning, it was gone.

Outside, a dragon roared.



Genre: fantasy

Check out the related fic Excitement of the Day.


Short Story: Search Party

Genre: fantasy


I was born with one brown eye and one black one. The brown eye sees things as they are, and although the black one does not always see the things in front of me, it can see much more.

It sees the past.

Some people think that means I know everything from the past. They’re both right and wrong.

Ever walk into a situation and be completely lost due to lack of context? That’s me. All the time.

I have a lot of practice digging around to find out more, but certainly not enough to stake someone else’s life on it. There is a world of difference between finding a missing person and pinning a murder on someone.

“No,” Uncle James says.

“She can save lives,” the homicide detective says.

“Eli already is saving lives.”

“She can save more by helping us.”

“And what will you say at the court hearing? Going to tell them all your evidence comes from one ‘psychic’? You want to let all your hard work go to waste because of technicalities?”

“I’m not picky with where I get my leads. Especially not when innocent lives are on the line. She only needs one day to do what a whole team needs weeks for.”

“You think she doesn’t need to work hard to do what she does?”

A sudden weight on my shoulder startles me.

“Who let papa bear James out this time?” Officer Farah asks.

“The homicide division wants my help,” I say.

“HahahaNO. You’re barely in secondary school. No murder mysteries for you until you’re at least allowed to drink. Come on. Let’s go.”

I happily follow Officer Farah into our office. Finding people is much better than talking to angry adults.

Today’s first task is to find a hiker who was accidentally separated from the rest of the group and is now lost in the mountain.

“Any reference point?” I ask.

“I was there last month. First Saturday,” Officer Dennis says.

look at him.

He grabbed his keys off the table. His watch showed yesterday’s date.

look back.

The car pulled into the parking lot. On the dashboard flashed the right date. The family of four followed the footpath to the cafe at the beginning of the hiking trail.

look at the mountain and look forward as close to the present as possible.

A group of young adults waited around the cafe. Two talked with the local rangers.

I look backwards and track the group’s progress until I find the point where the missing person separated from the group.

look at him.

Trees stretched as far as the eye could see with no path in sight.

“Found him,” I say as I look back to retrace his steps. “Can’t see any unique landmarks but I can guide someone to him.”

“I have a staff on the phone.”

Switching in between the past and almost present, I lead the search party to the missing person. Only after the rangers undeniably finds the missing person do I pull back and close my eyes with a sigh.

“Well done.” Someone claps me on the shoulder.


I look up and freeze at the sight of the homicide detective by the door. He tips his head to me and leaves without a word.

“What did he say?” I ask Uncle James.

“Don’t worry about him. He decided his team could handle their own case after all,” Uncle James says with a smile.

As expected of Uncle James. He can solve any problem.



Short Story: Magic Trick

Genre: fantasy, family


I was born with one brown eye and one black one. The brown eye sees things as they are, and although the black one does not always see the things in front of me, it can see much more.

It sees the past.

It doesn’t sound as awesome as seeing the future, but it’s still cool. Cool enough to do magic cool.

“Red. Black. Red. Red,” I say as my sister reveals one poker card at a time from a deck to our audience.

Our friends ooh and ahh as I call the right colour, one after another, with my eyes blindfolded. My relatives laugh and keep the secret to the magic trick to themselves.

“Anyone else want to try?” My sister offers the deck around.

Some choose a specific card for me to name. Uncle James tries to trick me by changing the card as I name it but my black eye sees all.

After the show, Uncle James pulls me aside.

“Eli, how well can you see with your eye?”

look at him.

He grabbed the keys off the hook and put it in his pocket.

“Hey! That’s our keys!”

Uncle James grins and pulls out the same key I saw.

“Hey, Eli, want to help me with my work? I’ll hire you as my consultant and pay you good money.”

Help my uncle with his cool police work?


“Did I just hear you hire my eight-year-old daughter?”

If Dad lets me.



Like this? You can also check out the related story Different Views.