Eyesore

“Open your eyes!  Would you stop squinting?”

Tears stream down my cheeks.  I force them open a crack, but am unable to keep them that way.  The world is a brilliant, blazing red. My eyes roll back up into my head to avoid the glaring onslaught.

“Open your eyes and stop squirming!” my impatient father growls.

I force myself to stand still and try for the fourth time.  The wretched sun undoes me again.  It drills painfully through my eyelids.  This time I don’t even have to open them for the tears to flow.

“I can’t!  It hurts!  The sun’s too bright!  It hurts my eyes!  Hurry!

“Turn a bit then.  No, not that much.  Move over closer to Shelley.  And stand still, would you?”

I reach out, groping blindly to find my sister.  I finally touch her shoulder and move to stand nearer to her. 

"Turn this way!"

Rotating, I grimace painfully in the general direction of the angry voice and force my eyes open. 

“Hurry! Take it!” I shriek, through clenched teeth. 

Ah.  A sweet memory to consider.  My brothers. Handsome devils they were.  All toothy grins.  My strawberry-blond, rosy-cheeked, adorable little sister. And me. Wild, curly white hair, skinny legs, knobby knees, two missing teeth, eyes squeezed shut in perpetuity, against the stinging rays of the sun.  

Another family picture spoiled.