Ocean Eyes

It all began when I was young and she was lovely- if only I knew what foul concoction those two flaws can form if intertwined as they were on that god-awful night… The night that would inevitably end me here: Writing this…Twenty years later… Alone… in small…somber… cell…
…
Prior to this night I don’t recall every detail, but I can remember the important things fairly well, and I’ll fill in the blanks the best I can.

It was December 12th, 1993; Hyden, Kentucky:
All I had in my possession were wire cutters, gloves, my granddad’s antique Walther-P38 handgun, and the loose plan May constructed; finally brought to fruition from her mind where she played it over and over, again and again, since she was old enough to conjure these sinful thoughts.

I’d say it was around eleven, maybe twelve; the exact time was the least of my concern - all I cared about was that it was dark all ‘bout the cul-de-sac. Now, in hindsight, I can comfortably assure you that on that night; the only thing darker than those powerless semi-circle of houses were the demons long lost – lurking; living in my lover’s heart.
Now dark as her heart was, you’d be awfully shocked to know it if you’d just stumbled across her at the bowling alley where she spent the majority of her time - time she spent waiting; spent searching.
She had the warmest smile, the bluest eyes, oh and the softest, cutest voice. The voice I can still hear to this day, bursting from my past, echoing in my ears…

“Hi… My name’s May… Well… it’s actually Mary-Bell… Mary-Bell Pine; but ya know my friends call me… Well… if I had any friends they’d call me May, so you can call me May I guess, if you wanna be my friend that is?”
I smiled. I don’t ever recall smiling before this day…before May.
“Why wouldn’t I wanna be your friend May?” I smiled wide again, “Why would anyone not wanna be your friend?”
If only I’d known the answer to my own question then, as I do now. False nervousness got the best of me. She was a cute, wounded animal; I needed to save her, I wanted to hold her, how could I possibly stray away? Oh God… Why didn’t I stray away…

When she finally discovered what it was she was searching for all those years, I was at a loss for words at what I myself had discovered; Love.

I looked deep in the infinite seas blessed into her Ocean eyes; Ocean eyes I’ve only known for four weeks, and whispered with the shaking breath of Pompeii and the amorous force of an Angelic army:
“Um… May? Uh… can I tell you something please?”
“Mhm” she nodded and hummed an emaciated reply to an encumbering admission. I continued my nervous, staccato solo:
“I don’t know how else to say this May… I think I might… I don’t know… love you…”

I was warned of all the L words before this: Lust, Love, Liars, Leech, Lucifer, and even Lack of better judgment. Little did I know the one in my mind in that moment when we met, was the only one that was utterly irrelevant to our ill-fated introduction. Nothing did I know of the loose plan she had hatched long before she met me, before she even stepped foot inside the bowling alley, before I merely filled in her blanks…
But I’m getting too far ahead of myself; let me say nice things while I’m still apt and able:

Mary-Bell Pine had solely became the most important human being in the span of my short, lonely life; this is sadly and surely due to the fact that she was by far the most lovely human being I had ever seen in the span of my short, lonely life.
My brain, not fully developed, allowed my heart to romp wild with dreams of me and this blossoming beauty, this budding rose of a girl - existing infinitely - fused with eternal bliss; together, in every happily ever after imaginable. Though, to future dismay, my heart naively neglected negative outcomes to this memorable meeting; and so, far in love I fell, mistakably, for the first and last time of my short, lonely life…

But Lord Almighty! She was stunning! Breathtakingly beautiful! No words exist that can even come close to illustrating her beauty, but with Heaven’s forgiveness I’ll surely try, for it’s truly dire you understand.
When I saw her…
Gorgeous gold laced her hair with locks falling so naturally perfect onto the shoulders that held her heart shaped face; you’d think it was artificially ascertained by an Angel’s power to perfectly preserve picturesque, unfair flawlessness.
She spoke with…
An angelic voice; calm enough to lullaby a war to peace, soft enough to hum a baby to sleep, and smooth enough to sweep me off my feet. I hung on every word she spoke, I adored the lips quiver on every consonant she broke, I would give up every lasting night, to have hear her say one last goodbye.
She wore a…
Dangerously bright smile that can kindle burnt out fires in the darkest man’s heart, and lead him any which way she desires him to do her part.
I stared into her
Ocean eyes, bring me to my knees, her Ocean eyes reflecting back the deepest seas. Her ocean eyes I saw within

That’s it! It was her eyes…
Her eyes made me do it. When I looked into those infinite seas and she told me…

I asked her again, “How did this happen? Who did this?? May… I love you, please tell me” I passionately kissed her hands; never letting my sight leave hers. Then she told me what happened; who did it. That’s when I did what conceals me here, rotting away just for her.

I walked into the dark house of my decisions; my detrimental despair.
This frail, forsaken home of my forlorn fate. May’s home in the center of the cul-de-sac.
Finally freeing her from the chains she’d silently dreamed so long to be freed from.
I had executed her plan perfectly.

With bondage binding my bloody palms, and love locking my lustful lips; Lucifer’s demons lost their lock on my May, and as apathetic May precisely and punctually planned; they pursued her parents path in Mary-Bell’s personally picked Pine.

My main stumbling block here was that your prose is both overwritten and overwrought. Flourishes are fine in small doses, but you're trying way too hard to impress. That horribly forced alliterating in the last paragraph deserves jail time. Just relax and use the words needed to tell the story.

I really, really appreciate the feedback. I can understand your comment on the prose, but I was aiming for a Fitzgerald-Emmerson styled poetic prose for most of this piece. So while I totally agree that it is overwrought, that was something that I was aiming for in this particular story. This kind of story is out of my comfort zone anyway, it's for a local contest hosted by a local author who writes teen murder stories so I thought I'd pose a familiar plot with an unfamiliar prose. Thanks so much for the feedback though, it is greatly appreciated.

If that's the case, and it reads like you want it to, then that's all that matters. Good luck with the contest!