It was almost midnight. “The witching hour” as Roald Dahl would have put it, but witches or no witches, I was definitely awake. I shuffled under the covers, tossing and turning unable to sleep but too tired to read a book. I looked up at the blank white ceiling, trying to count imaginary sheep but all my efforts were in vain. It was like sleep had abandoned me. I threw the covers off myself in frustration and sat up. “So this is how it’s going to be? Fine.” I muttered grumpily, slowly getting out of bed. The wooden floor felt cold beneath my feet as I walked to the bathroom. I washed my face with the cool running water from the tap. I looked up at the mirror and a girl with deep brown eyes, slightly curled raven black hair stared back at me with a tired expression from mirror. I sighed and shook my head as I walked out of the bathroom; mom and dad were probably asleep by now, I thought as I reached for the handle of my bedroom door. And then I stopped. What if I snuck out for a little walk outside? I had read somewhere that walks were a pretty good cure for insomnia, and the entire neighbourhood was asleep by then so I wouldn’t be disturbed by anyone. I knew very well what would happen if I got caught, but temptation won over caution, and soon enough I was tip toeing down the stairs quiet as a butterfly with my heart thumping in my chest. I grabbed my black hoodie off the rack, opened the door and walked out, letting the door close again with a slight click.
I felt a little exhilarated as I turned around to face the neighbourhood, the streetlights being the only source of light all around. Suddenly a gust of cold wind hit me and it was then, covered with goosebumps that I realized I was standing on the sidewalk in my pajamas. I quickly slipped into my hoodie, still shivering from the cold and started walking towards the park. I could hear the crickets chirping in the bushes. As I walked in I felt a surge of happiness as I recalled the amount of fun I had as a child in that very park, I felt oddly nostalgic as I looked around at the old slides, swings and rusty monkey bars. I walked over to my favourite swing and sat down. The dew settled on the chains wet my hoodie and fingertips. I smiled and started to hum my favourite song as I began to swing gently.
Suddenly, I noticed a tiny ball of golden light coming out of the window of the Samuelson’s place quickly fly into the Brown’s place. I stood up immediately. Was I hallucinating? I saw the tiny light again, flying out of the Brown’s home and realized that whatever was happening was, in fact very, very real. I followed the light, half running and half tip toeing. I saw that it was going into all the houses and coming out of them in less than a minute. I stood behind the withered willow tree watching that tiny light carry on its mysterious ritual of entering and leaving houses. “You know, it’s not very nice to spy.” A deep, silky voice said behind me, making me jump up a little. I turned around to find myself standing face to face to quite possibly the most beautiful man I had ever seen. He was pale skinned; high cheek boned with an aquiline nose and had soft lips that were curved into an amused smirk. His irises were a startling shade of rich crimson. His hair was silver blonde and fell in a slim plait across his left shoulder and extended to his waist. He wore a loose white shirt and jeans and was barefoot. “Excuse me, but staring isn’t very polite either.” He said, with a raised eyebrow. I suddenly realized that I had to answer him, and said, “I wasn’t spying or staring. I couldn’t sleep so I came out for a walk and happened to notice this shiny ball of light flying out of people’s houses and got jumped by a man with red eyes, which isn’t very normal, you see.”
The man looked startled and said, “Wait. You actually see my irises as red?”
“Yes, one would think that red eyes are quite uncommon.” I said, slightly sarcastically.
The man looked at me with an unfathomable expression and started muttering, “This is not supposed to be happening.”
“What?” I said, feeling slightly scared.
Before he could answer me, the tiny ball of light whizzed past my ear and sat on his shoulder and started making sounds like a wind chime on a windy day. He said something to it in his lilting voice and the ball of light flew off his shoulder and right in front of my nose. It wasn’t so much a ball of light as much as a tiny flame haired, chocolate skinned lady with sharp features and golden light emanating from her wings. She flew around me, singing in an eerily beautiful language, and abruptly pulled out a strand of my hair, and flew off.
“Ouch, what was that about?” I muttered rubbing my head and looking at the man.
The man made no reply; he just moved in close to me and touched my forehead with his finger. I suddenly felt incredibly tired and my legs gave out and I started to fall. The last thing I remembered was him catching me, gently brushing the hair out of my eyes and whispering “Goodnight, beautiful.” before darkness closed in on me.
I woke up the next morning, in my bed and was about to dismiss whatever happened as a crazy dream, but a strand of silver hair that clung to my pyjama sleeve, bore testament to something else entirely…
{{AUTHOR'S NOTE: I wrote this back in 2015, y'all reckon if I should write a sequel?}}