The Eye

Amelia held tight to her father's hand as he lead her to the meeting room. Her other hand held the folds of the satin dress from brushing the stone floor. Oh how she loved this dress. She watched in the mirror as her mother and two other wives of the her father's club dressed her.

She had been bathed, perfumed and her hair arranged in a easy style. The length pulled back and knotted at the base of her neck.

Cool air brushed her bare shoulders. and she heard the sound of leather against stone. She felt the rough edges on the steps they guided her down. They stopped.

Her father held both her hands. "Amelia, be honest, can you see anything though the cloth?"

Pads of cotton had been placed over her eyes and a soft cloth tied around her eyes and head, tight enough that no sight was possible. "No I see nothing."

"Good."

She heard doors creek open and the chatter inside came to an immediate silence. She heard the breathing of many men.

Her father told her. "You will be the one to give the reading. One of purity and selfless heart."

Tarah didn't answer. She didn't believe all the mumbo jumbo her parents ascribed to. She loved the parties with the member's offspring and flirting and well all the rest that went with such parties.

"Please be seated." The unfamilair voice intoned and she felt the chair press against the back of her legs. She sat, as graceful as she could and smiled. Slowly moving her head from left to right, pausing now and then when she heard the deep breathing of one of the occupants.

"Are you sure she can't see us?"

"Shh!"

"Tarrah, hold up your hands. I will place the all seeing eye into your fingers. You will only hold the corners. You will tell us what you see."

"I can't see anything, I'm blindfolded."

"Just hold the corners and relax. If you see nothing, all is well. If you see something, then tell us what you see."

Tarrah shrugged and held on to the metal corners of the object as she was told. Resting her elbows on the arms of the chair she waited. I wonder how long I have to sit like this until its over?"

The darkness before her eyes began to clear.There in front of her a scene of a man counting money on a desk. He took the stacks and put each one into a vault. The last one he slipped into the pocket of his satchel sealing the flap. He shut the vault and spun the dial. At the door a guard looked inside the bag, in each of the pockets. Tarah gasped as she was sure the guard would find the money. Nothing was discovered and the man nodded motioning him to pass by. As he left, he turned toward her and she saw his face. Mr. Jackson, her friend Amanda's father and her father's friend.

"Tell us what you saw."

"Nothing." Her heart beat almost out of her chest.

"Do not lie. Its not a pretty sight. You must speak what you saw."

"I can't." Tears leaked, but were absorbed by the cotton pads.

Her arm was pinched hard. She jerked calling out."Ouch!"

Her father's voice sounded harsh in her ear, "Tell what you saw and don't make me look bad for choosing you."

She nodded. "I saw Mr. Jackson hid money in his satchel. It has a hidden pocket not discovered when the guard searched it."

She bit her lip. There was an intake of breath in the room. She laid the metal object on her lap.

"Don't lay it down." Her father ordered. "Hold it up so you can see."

This time she saw a room filled with men seated in rows watching her. She heard a noise and turned the eye to see Mr. Jackson stripped of his clothes and his hands tied to a hook above his head. He was hit with a whip of sorts she'd never seen. The handle had thongs tied to it. There were knots of some sort at the end of the thongs. She watched as the whip was laid against his bare back and buttocks. She flinched. It was over quickly. How odd she would see the event when her eyes were still tightly covered.

She turned the device in her hand back to the men seated. The room went black. When her vision cleared she saw a young woman lying on a bed. It was familiar. It was her bed. She was lying on the bed. A man stood beside the bed nacked to his waist.

She put the metal object she was holding on her lap.

"Pick it up!" her father ordered.

Tarah flinched. What was she to do? Tell what she saw? What would happen to her father? Would he be whipped? A slow smile crossed her face.

She held the metal object with its all seeing eye up and turned it toward her father. She saw him as he was on the nights he abused her. She opened her mouth and told the group everything that happened on all those nights and who did them to her.