Fiction: Dark

"Then I see the distant night sky and how it is embellished with stars and I see you; your beauty, your calm and how you never became mine."

The night skies I look up during desolate moments and I see everything - in the back of my mind, at least. While the orange street lamp on the corner of the block blinds my eyes, I relish the moments when I see those three stars lining up like ants. Or how these clustered shining things resembled the pimple scars I found on your cheeks. Or how the wispy clouds looked like cotton under the plasters of your scars. In those dark moments, I see you. I felt safe.

We were in that dark cinema, holding each other’s hands to gain a little warmth in that cold place. I remember the scene when the waters of Venice reflected its night sky. I saw your constellation of pimples and know that it was you I am with. I could feel you with me on that same gondola that rippled the stars. I will not drown. Because even if I will, the dark reflective liquid that I was traveling on will catch me. It will cradle me until I float ashore.

Handing your right earphone piece, you grabbed me and led me towards a dark room. “You will hear it better in here!” you exclaimed as I allow myself to float in your currents of excitement. We made the floor warm, the air damp and the sound raspy. Your panting made its way to my auditory processes which made me not want to put on the right piece. Because if I do, I’d miss the chance of engulfing all of your sounds from one ear in exchange of this song about falling stars. “You sure do sweat quickly,” you say. A hanky with yellow tulip prints was dabbed in my forehead and got rid of my sweat.

Bass lines from a band concert we attended one spring break are still audible to this day. My mind plays a melody of love unrequited while looking back at you wincing in pain because of a wound you got from some douchebag who can’t take care of you. The cotton turned brown under the plaster as you tried to get yourself drunk, waving your hurting wrists up. I look at you and your eyeliner was the night sky, your tears the stars. I didn’t notice that I was already falling because of the person accidentally shoving me to you. And you caught me. You smiled and said, “What would you do without me?”

I stand on a Hospital rooftop, staring at the night sky. I see the stars better now as more of the nearby lights grew faint. The Emergency Room you lay in is bright; it pains me to be there. You rest in pristine white sheets, your pimple marks almost concealed; I can’t see your dark hazel eyes. I know that if I stay, I won’t see the stars anymore. So I went away from the light and back in the dim comforts of the dark, desolated rooftop.

My soul keeps coming back to those moments - those dark moments engraved in my head. I look up at the heavens and feel myself fall to the ground where you now lay. Then I see the distant night sky and how it is embellished with stars and I see you; your beauty, your calm and how you never became mine. No camera can capture your existence as perfectly as my eyes can just like how it can’t make me hold the night. And I close my eyes. I sleep easy in a dark, starry night.

END

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This entry for Fiction is written by Tara Angela Prieto.