When the stars and moon were my only friends

 I never quite noticed how lovely the morning sky was with her delicate stars, every single one caressing my tired face and kissing my lips.

They have always been there for me, always off in the distance. Following. Watching. Protecting.

Red and orange leaves swirl around me, softly teasing my skin. Colors shimmer in the sunlight, glinting as if a thousand brilliant gems were adhered to the tree branches. They host a private, bewitching dance in the gentle breeze; Mother Nature’s crowned jewels, a treat just for me.

Children laughing and screaming echo in my ears, as loud as church bells. Cars zooming past, always in a hurry. Dogs barking in the distance, motorcycles rumbling the very earth, street vendors shrilly advertising their homemade treats. 

It’s funny how gray and dull the world is until the moment you decide to leave. You can go months and months living in a monotone, dismal limbo--never seeing color in its true form. I walked these very same streets hundreds of times, and never paused to look at the well-maintained front yard of the neighbors.

How the rain puddle perfectly reflects the angelic cherry blossom tree. How graceful the old lady rocks her chair.

I walk quickly, leaves crunching under my shoes. I look at everything that will continue without me.

The world will, of course, keep turning: the birds will sing, flowers will bloom, hearts will beat. 

I feel at peace with them making their decision for me, all negative emotions dissipating; fear is a forgotten word. They will do what is right for me.

I sit down on a wooden park bench, front row seat to the sunrise. No definite plans for my perfect last day; just whatever fits the moment. 

Kids are running around and screaming, parents are desperately trying to keep up. I smile slightly, shifting my backpack from my lap to the bench next to me. I am so lost in my thoughts that I don’t immediately notice someone standing in front of me.

“Can I sit here?” A young woman points to the bench beside me, and before I can even acknowledge her presence, she picks up my backpack, hoists it gently on the ground and sits down. 

“Jesus. What do you have in that thing, rocks?” 

I am so bewildered that I just stare at her.

Her long black hair is parted down the middle, thrown over both shoulders. She is devastatingly stunning. Her startling pale skin appears even more bleached when I look into her eyes. They are as black as midnight. A dark, bottomless void that absorbs any and all light. I do not see my reflection. 

We stare at each other for a heartbeat too long. Her face full of mysteries yet oddly familiar.

She leans closer to me, impossibly close to my ear. The scent of cinnamon fills my head and makes me dizzy. Her lips softly brush my hair. She kisses my cheek so lightly I almost don't feel any pressure at all.

And just like that, she is gone.

My backpack is still on the ground. 

My skin is tingling. I feel as if an electric storm had just passed. I shiver, hot and cold at the same time. 

I blink and look around. Impossibly, it’s become dark. The park is devoid of any life, swings ominously swaying back and forth without a single body in sight.

I look at my watch, and it’s 11p.m. 

What?

How did I just lose all those hours? What happened?

The silence is deafening, absorbing my panicked breathing quicker than my lungs can produce.

I rush to my feet, grabbing my backpack and flinging it onto my already bruised back and run out the fenced area. Streetlights create sinister shadows, the imaginary claws dragging my imaginary soul to the pits of Hell. Thousands of fingers trail along my body, clutching my arms and snagging my clothes. I run and dodge, barely out of reach.

I see the bridge ahead of me, my fucking oasis. My sanctuary. 

But I’m running in slow motion. The bridge suspended in nothingness, instead of getting closer, it seems to be getting farther away from me. 

I'm running in molasses.

I’m running in a dream. 

I am in a dream. 

No. 

This is real life. 

My limbs are heavy, the backpack weighing me down indefinitely. The straps are cutting into my shoulders and I feel fresh bruises pop on top of old marks on my back like a dalmatian.

What feels like hours- but in reality a few moments- later, I’m at the bridge. Time is meaningless. I am no longer bound to the paralyzing fear of time running out. I am enslaved no longer. 

I swing my legs over the railing and balance myself right on the edge. I look down, the dark water beckoning me to come closer.

A cool wind envelopes me, comforting me as if I were a silly child scared during a thunderstorm.

My heartbeat calms, blood no longer roaring in my ears.

This empty abyss swallowing me whole has devoured my last words-unknown to everybody. Even to me. 

I have been sitting here my whole life, waiting for this moment to appear right in front of me. I have watched this play out like a movie on a television screen.

I look to my left, and there, sitting on the railing right next to me, is that same woman from earlier. Her heavenly skin practically glowing, her celestial radiance apparent even in the dark. 

She smiles, and slowly reaches for my hand. I grip it tightly, as if letting go would cause her to disappear again. Her skin is electrifying, and my pulse seems to lose rhythm for a millisecond. She nods once, and looks at me with such longing and tenderness I feel my heart melt. 

I look up at the night sky once more, thousands and thousands of dazzling lights; the universe unraveling her dark and haunting unknowns to me. The only ones in my life that have yet to let me down. I feel...nostalgic. Tranquil. The moon winks at me for the last time. I think back to our last secret, and silently pray to her that she will find peace just as I did.

We jump.