Nobody in my family has perfect eyes. We all shield our sight with plastic, glass, and metal frame.

My eyes are like pools of molten chocolate, handed down to me from my father. Monochromatic, they shine in the sultry sun, a dulled brown. And yet, in the darkness, pupil and iris become one in a deep ebony void.
My eyes have been shrouded behind a layer of glass. Thick-rimmed glasses aid in my sight, but gloss over my chocolate eyes.

My sister’s eyes are truly unique, with flecks of brown and green among hazel; eyes which stir jealousy in my very being. So many shades take residence in her eyes, constantly changing to fit each mood each day.
But ever since she was younger, her eyes have been far from perfect. Her poor eyesight, probably from her mother, resulted in years of eyeglass prescriptions and glasses in a cornucopia of sizes and styles. I guess that’s the price one must pay for beautiful eyes?
Luckily, she no longer needs to hide her hazel orbs, thanks to the two small pieces of plastic she places daily on her eyes. Beautiful brown and green flecked hazel can shine once more.