Alone in the house, I looked out the window. The moon was shining bright, and the stars were twinkling beautifully in the midnight sky. I had always loved nighttime as a child. It signaled the end of another day, which meant I had time for myself. It was peaceful. It was quiet. It was always calming, but not anymore. What a shame it is that something I used to love so dearly could become the most dreadful part of the day. My village has been having issues lately. I always knew that they would come. I was the only one who could ever see things for what they really were. I tried to warn people, but they would never listen. Tensions ran high, and the adults were busy acting like children. At first, there was a problem here, a problem there, but nothing major. The issues got gradually worse, but nothing was ever done to stop them. It had all started with simple disagreements, and then it escalated to the segregation of people. I don’t identify with either side. I choose not to get involved, for it is too risky. There are killings now. At first they were scarce but are now a daily occurrence. This dangerous society has shamefully become the new normal. The murderers strike at night, while people from the other side are sleeping. They jimmy the locks and slip past the door. They creep slowly and quietly throughout the house, using the darkness as a means of protection. The murderer will slip into the bedroom, and the only warning is a creak of the door, but by then, it is already too late. There is nothing anyone can do to save themselves, nothing at all. Some will suffocate their victims with a pillow. Some will strangle them with their bare hands. Others are more merciful and shoot the person in the head. At least then, there will be no suffering. I looked over at the clock on my nightstand, blinking 11:30 pm, and my stomach churned. It is odd how something as simple as this could cause me so much anxiety. If only there was no such thing as nighttime. If only I could stay awake forever. If only my safety could be guaranteed, and I would never have to face the terrors of the night. However, there are no genies that will emerge from a lamp to make my wishes come true, and nobody’s safety can ever be guaranteed. At some point I must go to sleep, plunging myself into the unknown, and when I do, will I ever see the morning? Oh no! Was that the d--?
Anonymous
Anonymous
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