The Night

By Elizabeth Troup

Word Count: 8694

Rating: PG-13 for destructive behavior and family violence

Summary: A teenage girl befriends the lonely spirit of the Night.

I am in love with the Night.  “Well, aren’t we all!” you might say.  No, you don’t understand.  I am in love with the Night.  He is a person, you see.  He is the one who creates the night.  He pulls the sun down from the sky and puts it to rest.  He lifts the moon with its faint glow and flings the shining stars into the dark violet blanket of the sky.  He is the one who awakens the nocturnal creatures from their daily slumber….and he is the one who noticed me.

           Rather, I noticed him.  You see, night has always worked better for me than the daytime.  There is always too much bustling about and noise from everyone at that time, but night is just so peaceful; it’s perfect for me.  Every night I just go outside and walk about while I think.  I’ve seen him several times before; he had his long fingers stretched out to the sky but he’d disappear before I could get to him.  The first time I saw him I thought it was just my imagination but it wasn’t, because I kept seeing him after that.    

           He was a shadowy figure dressed in black.  His charcoal colored hair fell down his neck and close to his shoulders.  He looked not much older than I.

           His pale face turned to me when he first spoke to me with a low and husky voice and all he said was “Why?” because I kept trying to follow him.  I just asked him who he was, for I knew that he was no ordinary man.  So he told me.  Granted, he used very few words but he explained to me who he was.  I asked him for his name but he simply replied “I am the Night.”  It was safe to assume he wasn’t talking about a knight in shining armor.  I asked him if I could walk with him and he reluctantly said “You may.”  We walked for miles.  As we’d walk he’d touch all of the plants and trees, softly hushing them to sleep and he’d call the owls to wake them.  With a flick of his hand the temperature dropped and with a whistle from his grey lips the winds began to soar.  He brought the night to life; even though night has always been associated with death it meant life for me.  

           I told him my name – Crystalina – and I told him about myself.  As I said before, he didn’t talk much that first meeting but he seemed to appreciate my words.  I started to get to know him as well through the few things he said, even though he wasn’t human.  However, he wasn’t fully spirit either because he was touchable.

           As night drew to a close (I’m an insomniac so I don’t sleep much anyway) he walked me home.  I asked if I could see him again and he gently lifted my hand with his surprisingly warm fingers, breathing a “yes” into it after he kissed it.

           Right before I drifted off into the few hours of sleep I’d receive before the sun would pry my eyelids open, I could see him reaching his arms up toward the sky as he drew the moon to him.

    I spent the next night in his company as well.  I asked him more about himself, such as what he did during the day since I had only ever seen him when the sun was down.  However, he told me that during that time he didn’t even exist.  When he said that, I was slightly taken aback, but he hastened to explain.  “It’s as if I fall asleep only I don’t dream, and I wake every day at dusk when I need to do my job.”

           “How do you know what sleeping’s like, then?” I asked him.

           “Believe it or not I used to be human, and I still am just not in the same way,” he answered.

           “What happened to you?”

           “I was cursed,” he said rather hesitantly, “by a fairy.”

           I was too afraid to ask him what he could have done to anger a fairy, unless she was an evil one.  I had come to the sudden realization that I now believed in fairies when I hadn’t five minutes ago!

           “So by cursed you mean…”

           “Well I still have my body, but I don’t eat or sleep.  I can never get sick, grow old, or die.  In a way you could say I’m already dead, although I’ve been alive for hundreds of years.  I still miss my family, even though they’re long gone…” he sighed.

           So many of his human characteristics have been taken away, but he obviously was spared his emotions.  I wanted to give that cruel fairy a piece of my mind for what she had done to him.

           “I’m sorry,” I said softly, squeezing his hand.  He smiled weakly, and I could tell that he was still hurting behind his kind expression.

           He unexpectedly leapt up off the bench we were perched upon.  “I want to show you something!” he announced.

           “What?” I replied hopefully.

           “Come!” He grasped my hands and lifted me from the bench as I caught his infectious grin.  After running to the tiny pond outside of the park, we sat down together in the prickly long grass.  

           “What is it?” I asked.

           “Shh…” he put a finger to my lips.  Then he softly sang a melody in a language I had never heard.  I couldn’t understand it but I swore it was the most beautiful thing I had ever heard.  His singing voice was haunting but in the most ethereal way.

           He continued his ballad for the next few minutes while I shut my eyes and let my ears absorb this new magic.  I could have listened to his voice for an eternity if I had the choice.

           “Open your eyes,” he whispered in my ear after he finished.

           The first thing I saw when I opened them was the pond lit up in a supernatural glow: a light blue color reminding me of teal, but not even that gives it justice. It was a shade I’d never seen before, but so beautiful.

           “This…this is beautiful,” I started to say.

           “Just keep watching,” he smiled.

           The pond began to ripple, as if a skipping stone were tossed into it. From the depths of the pond arose tiny creatures that looked like fireflies, but upon looking closer they were actually tiny people with fragile-looking wings.  They emitted the same unique colored glow as the rest of the pond.

           “But I thought…” My mind went back to what Night had previously stated about the fairy.

           “Not all fairies are like the one who cursed me.”

           “Can they lift your curse?”

           “No,” he chuckled. “These are only minor fairies.  Their magic is immensely limited.  Goodness, I have more power than they do and I’m not even one of them.  But my curse cannot be lifted. Believe me, I’ve tried.” His smile had swept away from his countenance.

           “I can’t imagine how painful that must be….have you had any friends or are you always alone? If you don’t mind my asking?”

           “I don’t mind.   Not everyone can see me, you know.  They’re either too absorbed with the world, with themselves, or with others to notice.  If you’re open to something other than your own bubble of comfort, if you’re open to nature, mainly the night, then you can see me.  For that’s what I am.”

           “So that’s how I can see you?”

           “Precisely.  Sometimes innocent children have seen me but they got frightened and ran away.  Others have watched me from afar, but they never spoke to me.  One might talk to me for one night and I’ll never see them again.  It’s been forever since I’ve had a proper friend.”

           “I’ll be your friend.”

           He looked at me with his sky-like eyes: dark violet, nearly black. “Thank you,” he replied.

           All of a sudden I felt exhausted.  I yawned without covering my mouth.  “Sorry,” I apologized, mid-yawn.  I pulled out my cheap ugly phone out of my crimson jeans back pocket.  A white 4 AM illuminated the front screen.  “I should probably go home now, I’m tired.”

           “Right,” he replied, “I wish I could get sleepy.  May I walk you home?”

           “Of course!”

           When we got there he said “You have a lovely home!”

           It wasn’t lovely at all.  It was small and dilapidated.

           “Don’t tease me!” I punched his shoulder.

           “No, I’m serious, you should have seen mine.”

           “Heh, I bet mine’s still worse.”

           Night shook his head, “Well, thank you Crystalina, for keeping me company.”

           I smiled.  We had gone around back where I had left so I wouldn’t wake up my mother; if she were even sleeping at all. “Good night, Night.”  I almost started laughing; it sounded so silly.

           “Victor,” he said.

           “What?”

           “Victor.  You can call me Victor.  That was my real name….”

           “Well, bye then, Victor.  See you tomorrow?”

           “I’d like that,” his lips curved into a half smile.

           “Okay,” I crept into the house.  The back door led to the laundry room.  I squeaked the door open and tip-toed up the stairs to my room.  I heard muffled noises coming from the TV, but I knew that my mom was asleep; she often fell asleep in front of it.  I crawled into my warm bed and drifted off minutes later.

         The next day was a Friday; just one more day until the weekend, not that it would make much of a difference.  Anyway, I overslept because I forgot to set my alarm….so literally ten minutes before the bus would come, I woke up, far more fatigued than usual. “Just get through today,” I told myself.  I was still wearing the same jeans from last night and I quickly changed into a navy blue tee-shirt, ran a brush through my long red brown hair, grabbed my backpack satchel, and ran out the door before my mom could begin to yell at me.  

          The bus pulled up, I gingerly trudged up the steps, and ventured to find an empty seat in the back.  Everyone was either chattering to each other, doing something with their phones, playing a video game, or something else.  I sat alone in the very back seat, put ear-buds in, turned on my music, and drew my sketchpad from my satchel.  I flipped through the numerous pages I had already filled with landscapes, animals, portraits, and fairies (I chuckled to myself at this.) I always loved fairies, so I guess a small part of me always knew that they were real.  I pulled out a pencil from my zippered pencil case and proceeded to sketch the fairy pond from last night.

           “Watcha doin’?” It was Manny, who had twisted around to face me from the seat in front of me.  I covered my book protectively.

           “How are you today, Manny?” I asked, changing the subject.

           “Not ready for History, that’s for sure.  You?”

           “Not one bit.” Mrs. Jevel was the most boring teacher ever; she droned on and on every day.

           “Hey, wanna read my latest story?” he asked.

           “Sure.”

           He handed me a composition notebook, opened to a specific page: The door slammed shut behind her though she knew she was alone. And she heard someone whisper her name into her multi-pierced ear “Eva….Eva….” She jumped and turned around but no one was there…..

           Manny always wrote horror stories.  He was a decent writer, though he had his flaws just as I wasn’t the best artist.

           The school bus screeched to a halt, for we had arrived.  All of the students clamored out into the halls of the school.

           After failing my history test, I got home that afternoon to an empty house.  I wasn’t sure where my mom was but I knew I’d have to clean and make dinner, or else she’d be furious.  I scanned the cabinets for food – there really wasn’t much – until I found two boxes of yummy macaroni and cheese.  I put a pot of water on the stove to boil, and then I started cleaning up the mess mom had left.   Hopefully there wasn’t a pile of puke sitting around somewhere.  It was difficult living like this.  But what I had to hope for was to see Victor again tonight.  I smiled.  Just nights before this, I never thought things like the supernatural were real, such as a boy who took the sun down and arranged the constellations in the sky every night.   

           Shortly after the food was ready, mom came home.  My mother was beautiful, though she wasn’t as young as she used to be.  She was blonde and thin but she wore too much makeup to match her flirtatious, fake personality.  She went straight to the worn-out sofa and popped open a beer.  “Cryssie, hon, did you make any dinner for me?” She looked at me hopefully.  It was terrifying, for one moment she could be in a calm, collected mood, but the next…I shuddered, trying not to be reminded of what her smacks felt like. Years of alcohol and depression and heartbreak messed her up.  I pitied her, and that’s why I never ran away or anything.  I was all she had.

           I brought her a plate of mac-n-cheese.

“Thanks, sweetheart.” She smiled.  I returned the expression.  I was glad that she seemed to be in a better mood tonight.

           Around midnight, after mom fell asleep, I snuck out to that abandoned park to see Victor.  This time, I brought my satchel with a snack, my sketchbook, and of course my flashlight.

           It wasn’t as if he were in the same place every night; I had to search for him a little bit before I found him.  After about a half an hour I discovered him casting shadows with his hands while he sat on one of the park benches.

           “Victor!” I whispered loudly.  He turned around to look at me; his eyes glowed like an animal’s at night.

           “Good evening, Crystalina,” he greeted me solemnly.

           Tired of walking, I sank down on the bench beside him.  “May I ask you something?” He inquired.

           My stomach curdled.  That was one of my least favorite questions to be asked. “Yes?”

           “Do your parents mind that you are out like this all of the time?”

           Oh. I chuckled. “No,” I shook my head. “For one thing, I don’t have a dad.  He left when I was four.”

           “Sorry,” he whispered.

           “It’s fine. And my mom…well she isn’t very protective of me.  She drinks a lot and she doesn’t have a real job, she just kind of bumps around working on and off for different places but they never last very long.  I don’t always know where she is or when she’s coming home, and sometimes she brings home random guys.  Sorry I’m rambling.” I nervously laughed.  I never had anyone to vent to.  I just felt as though I could tell him anything; I trusted him.  I trusted and hoped that he wouldn’t break me, as others had.

           I realized that I had been lost in my own reverie for who knows how long.

           “Even though I can’t relate in the same way; I can somewhat.  I’ve lost my family, as I’ve told you.  I’m truly sorry for your troubles.  I wish I could help.”

           “But you are! You’re listening and you’re not belittling me.  You have no idea how much I appreciate that.”

           He smiled. “I take it you’re an only child?”

           I nodded. “Thankfully, for their sake, I am.  What about you?”

           “I had three older brothers and a little sister.  I miss them every day.” He pulled a black and white photograph out of his pocket.  It was an image of seven people, Victor’s family.  There was a bearded man who slightly resembled Victor and next to him stood a middle aged lady who looked like someone with a kind heart.   There were three older copies of Victor, then Victor himself.  He looked happier, younger, and his hair looked far lighter than it did now.  “I used to be blonde, believe it or not,” he chuckled.

           He pointed out his family to me, and pointed to a gorgeous girl who appeared to be a couple of years younger than he. “That is my sister Meredith,” he said.

           “She’s lovely.”

           “Just like my mother.”

           He carefully put the picture back into his pocket.  “I loved my family very much, and I always kept this photograph with me in case something were to ever happen to them.  I didn’t know something was going to happen to me; I never expected it, honestly.”

           I knew that he was talking about his curse.  I wanted to ask him about it but I was still too afraid to.  He might get offended or mad at me.  He’d refuse to tell me because he didn’t trust me, or he didn’t take me seriously because I was just a child compared to him; or most importantly because I didn’t want to know the answer.  He might have done something horrifying to be cursed like this, or maybe he was completely innocent.  Whatever the reason was, I needed to know.  My heart thumped against its cage and my stomach went on a roller coaster; I almost felt as if I were asking my mother for a favor.

           Taking a deep breath, I asked him.  “Victor, if you don’t mind my asking, why were you cursed?”

        He exhaled and looked down at the ground.  He appeared to be thinking for a moment.

           Ugh, why did I ask, why? “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.  I understand.” I murmured.

           “No, it’s okay,” he lifted his head up and stared off into space.  Looking at me, he said, “Uh, do you want to walk with me? I still have some duties I must finish.”

           “Sure.”

           We got up together and began walking through the park as he made more hand motion spells, summoning shadows and calling the fireflies out.

           “You know, you remind me a bit of myself, all those years ago,” he finally broke the silence.

           “Really?”

           “Yes.  Like you, I was enthralled with the night.  I used to take walks with my family every evening through this very park ever since I was a young child.  You informed me that you have trouble falling asleep at night?”

           “Yeah, I have insomnia.”

           “As did I.  Anyway, I had a particularly dreadful fight with my parents (it was over something trivial-I can’t recall exactly what it was) and I was feeling rebellious.  So I ran to this park.  That’s where I met Nyx.

           “Nyx?”

           “Yes.  She was quite an alluring fairy, Guardian of the Night.  She had long, voluminous raven-black hair and such large wings.  Basically I was stunned by her beautiful and frankly I never knew anything like her existed until I saw her.”

           “So was she like you are now?”

           “We have the same job: create the night.  But she had far more power than I have now.  She was a fairy, after all!  I begged her to teach me her ways of magic.  So she taught me everything I know now.  She was immortal and she existed both night and day, though I only saw her at night.  I befriended her,” he knocked on a nearby tree, which promptly responded with a “hoot-hoot” from an owl he had awakened.  “But the thing is,” he continued, “She was obsessed with becoming a mortal, a human.  Which struck me as odd because she had so much power, you see?”

           “That makes sense; I mean I’d be surprised too.  It’s usually the other way around.”

           “Exactly.  However, now I can see her reasoning.  She’d been the Night Guardian for thousands of years.  She envied the humans, who can choose their own fate, live their lives, and die.  She had no choice but to do her what she was made for.   She was tied to this place and couldn’t leave.  Anyway, we became close.  I remember when she took my hand for the first time; she nicked it with one of her sharp, black nails.  And I remember when she kissed me for the first time,” his voice started to sound bitter rather than sentimental.  “I had fallen hard for her and she took advantage of that.  One night, I came to see her in the woods,” he pointed slightly off into the distance.  “She pinned me against a tree and put up a magic barrier; I couldn’t move.  Then she began to perform a ritual.  I tried to call out to her and persuade her to stop this, but she wouldn’t listen.  She was going to become human.”

           I gasped.  What a manipulative……

           “She already had a drop of my blood from when she nicked my hand (of course previously she had apologized and said it was an accident), and a lock of my hair (I think she took it from me when we kissed because she had her hands in my hair), but that wasn’t enough.  To complete the ritual, she had to inject me with some of her blood.  I fought her hard but…” He lifted up his sleeve to show me a thin yet defined line, a scar from where she had opened his skin.  “She extracted more of my blood and replaced it with hers,” he said that sentence with utter distain, and I would have too if I was him.   “The last part I remember of the ritual was her purging herself of the rest of her power-she wasn’t going to give it to me, obviously.  She gave me just enough to do her work but not enough to be a great fairy as she.  I could feel myself changing; I felt my humanity die.  I was changed to something new….to this.  She wouldn’t even let me see the light of day again.  Every morning I die and every night I live.” He sighed. “Nyx made herself human, a selfish, despicable one at that.  She wanted to live a normal life.  So she chose me to fulfill her duties.  I am somewhat fond of these duties; it’s just that I’m so lonely.  I never saw my family again.  That was part of the curse.  I was a ghost to anyone I had ever known in my life; I tried to see my family and friends, but they couldn’t see me.”

           “Do you know what became of Nyx?”

           “No.  I never saw her again.  But I know that she’s dead now; unless somehow her mortality lasted over 150 years.  But it’s not as though I can communicate with the dead.  You’d think I could, but night is my job: not death.”

           “I’m so sorry,” I said.  “I truly am.”

           “Well, at least I’ve got you to keep me company, right?” He tried to sound cheerful.

           “Right,” I quickly gave him a hug; I was sure he needed it, and I didn’t know when the last time he was hugged.  He seemed very much surprised for a moment but then he hugged me back and we held each-other for a few seconds.

           Afterward, he smiled and said “Thank you, I needed that.”

           “Well, it’s the least I can do.”

           “I’m glad you understand, though.  I was afraid that you wouldn’t.”

           “Of course I do.  I’ve been betrayed by people before, even though it’s been in different ways.” We walked and talked some more until I went back to my house.  I was terrified that one of these nights my mom would go to check on me or something and then freak out when I wasn’t there.  Oh gosh I’d be in such big trouble….it would be awful.

           After saying goodnight to Victor, I scampered into my bed.  I heard my mom snoring like a bear, so I knew she didn’t hear me.

           Nearly every night I saw Victor.  Sometimes I brought my homework or a book to read with him (he could make moonlight for us to see.)  He even let me sketch his face.  I always loved drawing people, but he was my favorite.  He didn’t beg me to sketch him or constantly ask impatiently if I was finished yet.  He just silently waited, and I loved that.  My sketchpad was completely lit up and so was his face, in perfect lighting for me to draw.  It took me about an hour or so to do a good one.  We were leaning against two trees, right by the little pond.  He called the fairies out again tonight, so the scenery was perfect.

           “I’m finished.” I said right after shading one last strand of hair on my sketch of Victor’s head.

           “Already?” He asked sarcastically.

           “Oh, stop,” I rolled my eyes. “Did you want a crappy portrait or a semi-decent one?”

           “I’m joking,” he said, sliding over to me.

           “May I see?”

           “Of course!”

           He stared with wide eyes at the portrait.  It bore a remarkable resemblance to him.  “It’s beautiful.”

           “Thanks,” I smiled. “I love to draw.”

           “I can see that,” he laughed.

           I loved spending time with Victor because when I was with him I was at peace.  It was as though I had nothing to worry about.   It even started to seem as if my family issues were gone, but then they came back…

One afternoon, I fell asleep on the couch with my homework.  My mom was out, probably seeking a new hook-up.  I hadn’t had time to clean up the house, to cook, or to do anything else.  I think I was dozing for several hours, and then I awakened to the sound of the front door slamming loudly. Oh no.  I swiftly looked around me and of course everything was a disaster.  I didn’t know what to do.  Obviously I couldn’t get it all up now, should I run?  She was going to catch me any second.  I stood there in this stupefied uncertainty until I decided to bolt for the back door.  I started moving but then I heard the unsteady footsteps behind me.  She sharply called my name. “Crystalina!”  Usually she just called me “Crys” or “Crystal” so she had to be infuriated.

           Hesitantly, I turned around.  I just wanted to leave but I know that it would only make things worse-believe me, I’ve done this before.  Her face burning with a drunken rage, she said “Do you mind telling me why the hell this house still looks like this?” She gestured with both hands to the terrible mess.

           “I-I’m sorry, mom.  I fell asleep…”

           “Don’t make stupid excuses!” she bellowed.

           “I’ll start on it immediately.”

           “Someone’s coming over soon and I have to go get ready.  So you’d better get this done.”

           I hated this.  Frankly, it wasn’t fair.  But what could I do?  I embarked on clearing the dirty dishes and picking up the trash.  I was going to put some strawberry smoothie-stained glasses in the sink when I slipped on something…and of course I broke them.

           A clattering of heels came descending down the stairs.  I scurried to clean up the broken pieces but it was too late, for then came the avalanche of screams and expletives.  I kept apologizing as I tried not to cry but the tears came anyway.  Of course that only made things worse; she hit me and that was when I had had enough.

           I stood up, wiped my hands on my cropped pants and calmly went to leave.  But she yanked me by the hair and grabbed my shoulders. “Oh you’re not going anywhere!  Finish this now, or so help me…”

           I let all those words pass right through me.  I wasn’t listening; I couldn’t.  I felt so numb.  I didn’t know how much longer this could go on or how much longer I could deal with it.  Maybe someday she’ll find someone who would stay and make her happy again but I doubted that.  The longest any guy had stayed with her (excluding my father) was about a year.  All of them had been awful too.  I planned to sneak out after mom’s guest came so I could be with Victor.  I wished I could be with him all of the time because he never hurt me and I didn’t think he ever would.

           An hour or two later, some bearded man came to the door.  He gave me the creeps from the eager look on his face and from the way he looked at me.  Mom was delighted to see him, and he seemed delighted to see her too, considering the fact that he picked her up and swung her around.   Then they started flirting to the point that I became grossed out so I crept away.  I wasn’t over my sadness yet.  I still felt so hurt and so traumatized even though I was used to being treated that way.  Mom and the man were too busy to notice me so I left after I served them their dinner.

           The sun started going down so I knew that Victor would be here soon.  I still felt so empty, so unloved, and so sad.  I didn’t even know what to say to him.  I felt so foolish, so desperate to tell someone what I was going through.  I waited for him under the tree by the tiny pond where we often spent time together.  Finally he came.

           “Hey, Crystal!” He beamed.

           “H…Hi…”I trembled.  Ugh I was horrible at hiding my emotions.

           “Uh, are you alright?” He took a step closer.

           “Yeah, yeah I’m fine!” Something in my voice cracked.

           “No, I don’t think you are…” His voice was barely a whisper when he rushed over to me and wrapped me in a hug.  “What’s wrong, Crys?”

           It was no use trying to hide it anymore, so I broke down and told him everything.  He had nothing to say; he merely held me and rocked me back and forth while he smoothed out my hair.  He kissed my cheek as he continued to hug me.  “It’s going to be alright, girl.  I promise.” I don’t think anyone had ever hugged me for that long in my life.  I felt so safe.  I felt home.  Burying my head into his chest, I deeply sighed.  “Thank you, Victor,” I whispered.

           “For what?” He looked at me, smiling.

           “For this! I feel so much better now.”

           “I’m glad,” his fingers slid gently through my hair, soothing me.  “And, Crys, I am so grateful for you.  I was so lonely before.”

           “I’m sorry,” I breathed.

           “But darling, that doesn’t matter anymore.”  He drew my face up to his.  “If I had to be alone for another 150 years until I could meet you I would do it.”  His dark eyes stared into mine with complete sincerity.  My eyes fluttered shut because I didn’t know what to say and then I felt his lips tenderly touch mine.  This beautiful moment…I wanted it to last forever.

I peacefully fell asleep with dearest Victor that evening.  I didn’t mean to fall asleep, but I was just so sleepy and comfortable.  He lay next to me, both of us snuggled against our tree, while he stroked my head, our breathing in sync.  I woke up the next morning alone, however I wasn’t surprised since I knew he disappeared against his will every sunrise.  I could still feel his presence with me, the chilling and somber yet captivating feeling.

           Suddenly reality came crashing back to me.  I had never come home.  Checking my wristwatch, the time said 7’oclock.  Maybe mom was still asleep.  I ran back to my house and snuck back in the way I always did.  I tiptoed through the halls and I dove into my bed.  Good.  She hadn’t heard anything so she wasn’t up yet.  I would be in so much trouble if she found out about this.

           Sometime after this, my mother seemed to be in a less-explosive mood, but she was so gloomy.  Then I remembered that today was the day my dad left thirteen years ago.  I was only four.  She seemed to be over him except for today, during the holidays, and some other random times when she gets reminded of him. I hardly remembered my father but I resented him for what he did to my mom and me – literally abandoning us.  I never even heard from him – my own father.  I felt so sorry for mom because I can understand her depression even though she didn’t treat me well.

           “Hey, Crys, do you want to get out today?”  My mom asked, stuffing some money into my hand.  This was so odd because she never acted in this way.

           “Really?” I replied incredulously.

           “Yeah.  Why don’t you go to the movies or something?”

           Something was not right.  But I was going to go along with it so I could find out.

           “Okay.  Well I guess I’ll go then.  I can walk.”

           “Alright, sweetie,” her lips broke into a smile, yet behind her blue eyes there were tears waiting to tumble out.

           “Thanks, mom,” I smiled back at her.

           “Yeah, no problem!” She kissed me on the forehead (something she rarely did).

           I left, but I decided to wait for a few minutes before coming back.  I didn’t want her to get mad at me so my excuse was going to be that I forgot something.

           Inside my house, mom wasn’t downstairs.  I rushed up the stairs and found her in her bedroom.

           “Mom?” I said with a shaky voice.

           “Crys?” She didn’t turn around.  She was sitting on her unmade bed and facing the bare wall. “I thought you were leaving,” her voice choked.

           “Yeah, but I…”

           “Just go.” She still hadn’t turned her gaze from the wall.

           “No, not yet.”  I rushed to her side, but to my horror I saw that she had a gun in her lap.  My eyes grew wide.  “Where did you get that?” I quivered.

           She sighed.  “Remember the guy who came over a while ago?  He left it under the bed by accident.  I pretended not to notice that he had it, and I don’t know why he never came back for it.  I guess he really doesn’t want to see me again.” She took a swig of whiskey from the flask on the nightstand.  “Hell, he was gone before I even woke up.  I mean usually they have the decency to say goodbye in the morning after we have a nice breakfast but he didn’t leave so much as a note.”

           “I’m so sorry, mom, that’s awful.”  I had no idea why that man had a gun in the first place.  Was he planning to shoot her with it?  Perhaps he was the kind of person who carried a gun for safety precautions (maybe he was afraid that she was a psychopath), but then he left it so carelessly.  Or he was an undercover policeman or agent or something of the sort?  Or a thief or a drug dealer.  Never mind.  I didn’t want to know.  I needed to stay calm; I didn’t want anything to happen.  I carefully sat down next to her on the bed.  “Can we talk about it?”  I asked.

           “There’s nothing really to talk about.  I just can’t do this anymore.  Your father left so long ago and that’s what truly broke me.  I blame myself for the most part but I still didn’t want us to end the way it did.”  She sniffed and wiped her nose with the back of her hand, simultaneously exposing fresh and old scars trailing down her wrist.  “I wanted to be married to him forever, even though I didn’t act as if I did.  And after that I tried everything to fill that gaping hole.  Of course everything I tried only gave me happiness at that time.  Your father was the only one who gave me a lasting happiness, and I ruined it.”  She gulped some more of her drink.  “None of my relationships have worked out and I’m just becoming more and more miserable every damned day.  And I’ve been so terrible to you, Crystal.  You don’t deserve such an awful mother like I am.  This cruel game of life has beaten me and I give up.   That’s why I wanted you to go; I didn’t want you to see this.”

           “Mom, don’t do this,” I began internally panicking.  This was not going to happen.  No matter how she’s treated me she was my mother and I loved her.

           Picking up the gun from her lap, mom turned it over and over in her hand as she stared at it.   She cocked it.  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.  It seemed as though her life had gone from her already: her light blue eyes looked so empty upon her ghostly pale face, almost as pale as Victor’s.

           “Just promise me one thing,” her voice still a hush.

           “What?” My lips quivered.

          “That you won’t end up like me.”  The words barely trickled off her tongue.

           My heart fell into my stomach so far I could have heard it drop with a thud.  Tears streamed down my face like never before.  I couldn’t control myself anymore, hysteria immersed me from my head to my feat.

           “Mom, NO!”  I pleaded.  “No, no, no! Please, NO!”  She refused to look at me.  I had to save her from herself; I didn’t care if I got hurt as a result.  I grabbed the gun and tried to take it away but her hand gripped it as though it were made of iron.  I pulled it to get it out of her hand.  All of this happened so quickly and it was such a blur; I remember we were fighting over it. I continued tugging on it for her life, like we were playing a sick game of tug of war.

           “Just let go!” She wailed pleadingly.  “Just let go! Please, Crystal.  Let me go!!!”  She tugged back at it.

           “NO, MOM! I won’t….” I panted to get the words out as I continued to pull, “let you… take… your own…LIFE!” I foolishly and unwittingly pulled it towards myself and away from her. But her finger was still on the trigger.  I heard the gunshot.

           For some reason I looked at her to make sure that she was unharmed, and of course she was.  The gun wasn’t pointed at her, after all.  She looked at me in a way she hadn’t looked at me in forever: a state of horrified shock and simultaneously a state of love.

           When I felt a warm liquid pouring from my stomach I knew I had been shot.  I was so stupid to struggle with the gun, especially the way that I did, but I wasn’t going to sit there and watch my mother commit suicide.  I collapsed to the white carpet, which would soon be stained with my blood.  I could almost see myself in one of those movies or television shows, falling dramatically in slow motion.  But this wasn’t a TV show.  I wasn’t Sherlock, predicting how exactly I would fall.  I had no control over this, my reality.  Just as I was blacking out, I witnessed my mom with her phone in her quivering hand, dialing three digits and putting it to her ear.

It was strange to be in a state of nonexistence.  I couldn’t tell if I were dead or not.   All I knew was that I was aware of my consciousness but I didn’t know where I was.  I wanted to say something but I couldn’t because I didn’t have a body.  I couldn’t look around even if I tried.  There was no sound.  I couldn’t feel anything.  So this was the end…I never thought it would happen like this.  I didn’t have the best life, but I wanted it to be longer at least.  And Victor…would I ever see him again?   I remembered how he said he couldn’t communicate with the dead.  We were doomed then.  I don’t know how long I was in this state because it felt like forever but at the same time it felt as though no time passed at all; perhaps it was because there was no time in whatever I was experiencing.  I wondered how long this would go on.  Maybe this was death.  Maybe there was no afterlife, just this state of experiencing my non-existence.

           Just then I felt like I was choking, or drowning.  I tried to cough but I couldn’t.  There was nothing I could do.  I could feel my non-existing eyes fill with water, my ears fill with blood, and my entire body tensing up and expanding as if I were about to explode.  Finally I let out this blood-curdling scream as I felt the most pain I had ever felt in my entire life.  I heard glass shattering everywhere; I saw all of these flashes of multi-colored lights flickering violently all around me.  Then there were unearthly voices wailing and moaning and more shattering glass and thunder claps.  I covered my ears and screamed until there was nothing left.

          My eyes were glazed over when I finally opened them.  Not moving my head resting on the pillow, I glanced around to see white sheets pulled up over my legs, my wrist hooked up to an IV, and a heart monitor to my right.  I supposed that I wasn’t dead after all and I smiled, very much relieved.  My mother wept in a chair beside me.  Her head was wrung in her hands as she   muttered all of these things to herself that were mostly incoherent except for “I’ll never forgive myself,” and “my poor baby girl.”

           “Mom,” I gently spoke.

           She didn’t look up.

           “Mom!” I enunciated.

           She still didn’t look up.

           “She can’t hear you,” a gaunt man limped into the room.  Tall and thin, his face was shaped like a fish.  He was older with slicked-back grey hair falling behind his neck.  He wore a black suit and held a twisted cane with a skull at the top.

           “Who are you?” My voice sounded as if I were trying to talk underwater.  In a surprised confusion, I touched my throat.  The man had the faintest crooked smile on his thinly stretched lips.

           “My name is Death,” he replied calmly.

           “Death?  Am I dead?”  I couldn’t be.

           “Not yet.  But you will be.  Unfortunately you’ve lost too much blood from your bullet wound.  Quite a noble thing that you did for your mother.”

           My heart sank.  I don’t want to die.  Not yet…

           “Is she going to be okay?”  I finally replied.

           “She’s keeping your last wish, you know.”

           “She won’t kill herself after all?”

           He smiled. “She isn’t on my list for any time soon, so I don’t think so.”

           Good.  Maybe she’ll finally be the mother she needed to be even if I won’t be here.

           “So…why exactly are you here?” I asked. “Are you going to kill me?

           “Yes.  But first I have something for you.”

           “What?”

           “A wish!  I get to grant you your dying wish.  You can wish for almost anything you want except of course there are some exceptions. You can’t bring the dead back to life, including of course yourself, you cannot kill anybody.  And you cannot reverse anything else that has permanently been done.

           “So I can’t end Night’s curse?  I can’t give him back his humanity and mortality?  He never actually died.”

           “My dear, I’m afraid I cannot.  Nyx cursed him forever and I do not have the power to fix him.”

            Another blow to my heart.  “What happened to her, by the way?”

           “Nyx?  Oh, I sent my reapers after her immediately.  She broke the laws of magic and she manipulated and cursed an innocent man. Nyx had to pay for what she did.”

           “So the reapers killed her?”

           “Yes of course they did.  We tried to break Victor’s curse long ago but we could not.  Her curse was irreversible: she used the darkest magic to make sure that it could not be broken. It is quite rare for fairies to turn against the Code; usually they are good-natured and extremely loyal.  Oh, and I forgot to mention: for your wish, you are allowed to choose your role in the afterlife.”

           “My afterlife?”

           “Yes! You can be a fairy if you like.  Or you can stay here and haunt this world as a ghost where no one can see you.  You could join the rest of the dead or you could decide to end your existence altogether…here,” he handed me a brochure entitled “Your Plan for the Afterlife”, as if it were an advertisement for a retirement home or something like that.  “Why don’t you have a look at this,” he continued.

           If I couldn’t end Victor’s curse I would suffer it with him; except it would not be suffering because we would be together forever.

           I cast the paper aside and spoke up. “Can I be like Victor?”

           “The Night?  You want to share his curse?  You’ll be dead during the day, you know.”

           “I’m already dead,” I chuckled. “But I will live every night.  And Victor won’t have to be alone anymore.”

           “Is that really what you want?”

           “Yes…I…I love him.” I’d never told Victor how I felt about him, but I think now was when I realized that I truly loved him.    

           He smirked and looked as if he were suppressing a laugh. “I’ll see what I can do.”

           He came closer to me. “Are you ready?”

           “To die?”

           “Yes, and start your new life.”

           “Wait.  Let me say goodbye to my mom.”

           “But she can’t hear you,” he rolled his eyes.  Maybe he was behind schedule today.

           I gave him an annoyed look. “I know that.”  I turned to look at her anguished face one last time. “Mom, I know I didn’t show or tell you this very much, but I love you.  Even though you can’t hear me right now I want you to know that.  And I want you to live.  For me.  Please, enjoy the rest of your life and be happy.  Goodbye.”

           “All done?” He asked sarcastically.

           “Yes.”

           “Alright.” He leaned over me, closed his eyes, and put his wrinkled hand on my forehead.

          Immediately I felt a surge go through my entire body as if I had been electrocuted.  I could feel the dullness of my heart’s beating slowly stop completely.  My throat closed up until I could no longer breathe.   All went black, the only farewell I received from this world was Death whispering “Goodbye.”

           I slipped into oblivion once again.

           My eyes opened again, and I felt rough tree bark against my back.  Crickets cheerfully chirping all around me while I found myself wearing this lovely, long, silky black dress.  I held out my hands in front of me; my skin was a deathly pale.  I had died after all. I drew my hair in my hands and found it to be pitch black.  I actually really liked it.  I still felt powerless and as if all of my energy was drained from me, and I felt so different…I supposed it was because I was different.  Maybe Death had been able to grant my wish after all.

           I shakily stood up, trying to keep my balance. I’m taking my first steps all over again.  I was so lost though.  Was there some sort of “welcome to the afterlife” tutorial to all of this?

           “Crystal?”  I heard my name being called by a familiar voice.

           “Victor?!” I cried hopefully while my heart jumped.

           I heard a rustling from a bit of a distance and made out his figure rushing towards me.  “Crystalina, what happened to you?”  He saw that I looked different, obviously.

           How was I going to explain this?  “Oh, I uh, I died.” I chuckled awkwardly.  This sounded so weird.  He reached me but took a step even closer towards me.

           “What?   But how are you…” He touched my hair and stroked my cheek.  I felt a shiver run through me.

           “You look like I do,” he said in low tones, his brain trying to process this.

           “Yeah, Death gave me a wish.  I wanted to set you free but he told me that he couldn’t undo what had already been done.  But he could make something that hadn’t yet been done.”

           “So…you cursed yourself?”

           “It’s not a curse!  Now you won’t be alone anymore!”  I tried to smile.  What if he didn’t want this?  Had I made the wrong decision?

           “But you could’ve chosen something else, and you chose to be as I am?”

           “Yes, Victor, I did.”  My lips broke into a smile.

           His mouth was still dropped in disbelief, yet he looked so touched.

           “I…I don’t…I don’t know what to say.  I’m just…I’m just so happy.”  He finally said.

           “Well, you don’t have to say anything else then,” I giggled and threw my arms around him in a hug.

           “I just…no one’s ever done something like that for me before. Ever.”  The hug lingered between us into a silent embrace as his hand held the back of my head.

           “Crystal, have I ever told you…” he hesitated.

           “Told me what?”  I drew apart from him so I could look him in the eyes as we spoke.

           “I don’t think I have.  Crystalina, I love you.”

           My heart wanted to reach for the stars.  “I love you too, Victor, so much.”

           He kissed me passionately.  “You set me free,” he murmured onto my lips.  “You set me free from an eternity of loneliness, and I could never be more grateful.”

           He said that I saved him, but truly he saved me.

***

Epilogue

          “Close your eyes, Crys,” he whispered into my ear.  Closing my eyes, I smiled, remembering the first time he told me to open them.  It was so long ago when he showed me the little pond fairies.

           “What are you smiling about?” He asked as his fingers gently laced through mine.

           “That just reminded me of the first time you sang that incredible song and brought the little fairies out for me.”

           “Aw, you still remember that?”

           “I could never forget that, Victor.  Now, what was it you were going to show me?”

           “Right, I almost forgot.  First, I need you to take a deep breath.”

           I released a dramatic sigh.  “Next?”

           “Focus your thoughts solely on the moon.  We’re bringing it to the sky, remember?”

           “The moon…the moon…it’s…moony…” I chuckled.

           “Of course it is, sweetheart,” he returned the laugh.  “But think of real words describing the moon.  Large.  Round.  Well, round if it’s a full moon, which it is tonight, so we’ll do that.”

           “Cratered,” I continued.

           “Good, keep going.”

           “Luminous, but not like the sun.”

           “And?”

           “And there is the dark side, flecked with dust, and the brighter side.”

           “Will there be any clouds around it?”

           “No, not this time.”

           “Will it hang higher or lower  in the sky?”

           “High.”

           “Alright, now form a perfect image of the moon in your mind,” he waited a few seconds for me to imagine it. “Got it?”

           “Yes.” Taking both my hands, he stretched them out to the sky.

           “Focus on that image, just focus on that and…open them…now!”

           I felt a surge of power shoot through my arms and into the sky.  As I opened my eyes, I saw my hands and arms glowing milky white.  Looking up, the moon was suspended in the velvet sky.

           “Victor,” I whispered in disbelief.

           “You put it there.  I’m proud of you, Crystalina.”

           My pale cheeks burned.  “Thanks.  Of course, I learned from the best!”

           He rolled his dark violet eyes and grinned.  “What next, dear?  The stars?”

           “Yes,” I smiled.  “Let’s do the stars.”

Original Short Stories