Meet me at {midnight} [cyzea]

Cyrus Castillo

And the moon rises higher, can call me
The end of the cycle has come again
Oh, I am helpless innate.
Awake in the matter next morning
Empty your belly, I can't take my time on a
I am helpless, I'll ...

"Meet me at midnight."

It feels like such a long time since we decided that. Meet up here, in this place at midnight, with place were the trees stand tall and loom over me and just wave their branchy arms endlessly in according to the breeze. I stick my reddened hands in my pocket and begin strolling through this forest, trying my best to keep warm despite the fact I can see my breath clear as day every time I even breathe out slightly. I try to keep my footsteps as light as possible as if I'm trying to sneak around at night but I'm really not.

I was drawn to this spot, it's midnight if that watch I found on the ground is correct but I am only assuming. The dark sky and the bright white stars that stare down at me like white eyes are my only real indication that it's actually quite late. I can't remember the last time I saw a starry night. I hadn't seen any sort of nights until years ago, all I saw was darkness, darkness and night are two completely different things. Darkness brings fear to me. Darkness brings back memories of endless pain and suffering that just won't go away and leave me be. But the night is different, the night is quite new to me and only tells me I need to rest. But not tonight.

Tonight the darkness told me to get moving and send feelings of excitement through my brain because I get to see her again. I quickly threw on my second hand jacket so it would keep me warm and zipped it up to the top so I could see her without shivering constantly. If I had gloves I'd wear them but I could not afford them and gloves are too hard to steal. I may be good but I can't take something from their hands without them noticing. So I have to stick my hands in my pockets and hope for the best. Everything about me just screams poor, poor, poor. And yet she does not seem to care.

My once white cheeks are now flushed with red, like the strawberries I sometimes see growing around here and yet I still ignore it. I guess I should count myself lucky because it's much, much warmer than before when we had to use the wood from the trees around me for warmth because I know me and Otis would have surely died. But now there isn't as much need for fires, just second hand winter coats because the scary veil that is the cold seems to finally be lifting.

It seems after what feels like walking forever, and eternity of searching for her, I finally see what appears to be a figure in the distance. Motivation fills me and my steps quicken so I can get a better and clearer view. And I know it's her even when I'm several feet away I can tell. "AZEA!" I call out, a small grin spreading across my lips and I give a noticeable wave.

Forget the cold, it was worth it.

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