The Night

“If you don’t believe the sun will rise, stand alone and greet the coming night.”

-Audioslave-

It was dark and cool when I arrived at our home. I should’ve known she was going to be like this. There were no lights shining through the windows, no warmth to greet me and my tired bones. I should’ve remembered what night it was, but one doesn’t notice the absence of something we often take for granted. I came in as if it were any other normal evening. The first thing I noticed was the breeze wafting through the house, along with the sharp smack of the door closing behind me. I remember dropping everything, the eyes smashed against the floor, the milk carton exploding with a sold thud. If there were light I’d see it bleeding into the egg yolks. I remember calling her name.

“Nikole! Nikole! I’m so sorry, I completely forgot. Nikole where are you!”

I checked the bedroom, the kitchen. I don’t know why, for I know where her small form would take shape on such dark nights. I suppose I was hoping beyond hope that this time it would be different. She would be different. I paused listening. I heard her cries pierce the ebony sky and reverberate through the halls of our hollow home.

Speeding toward the balcony, its doors swung wide, a gaping mouth preparing to swallow me whole. This is what I know; this is what we’ve been doing for months now. She sat there, arms holding her knees tight to her chest, crouched down low, backed into a corner. I remember the tears streaming down her cheeks, eyes locked in a fatal embrace with the sky.

“Nikole, baby, I’m here. It’s gonna be alright.” I swept her up off the floor, cradling her in my arms.

“Nikole, look at me. Nikole!”I remember physically tilting her head so I could look into her eyes, the question hanging on her lips.

“It’s all over isn’t it? It’s never gonna come up again. She’s never gonna show her face. How will we go on? What is gonna happen when the sun doesn’t come? Andrew?”

Her eyes searched mine, as they had searched the sky, looking for answers.

“I can’t breathe, the shadows are crowding in. Before you came, I couldn’t tell where they began and I ended. They’re so oppressive, suffocating me.”

“Nikole we can just turn the lights on.”

I turned to go inside but she clamped one hand on my forearm.

“Don’t.”

Her eyes were wide and her hair wild. I forgot she won’t turn on the light for fear of startling those creatures that shouldered their way into her dark.

“Nikole, this has to stop. The sun will rise and everything will be fine, just like every other time the moon hides her face. You know this, it’s happened every time before. The moon’s still up there. It’s just caught between our earthly selves and the sun. You can’t have the light without the dark. They make our world complete.”

She shook her head in disbelief. More as she refused to believe me.

“You don’t know. You just don’t know how it feels. It’s just so dark, it’s so complete, infinite. It goes on forever, even in space. All there is, all that there will ever be, an eternal blackness.”

“But it’s the negative spaces in between, the void place, which allows the light take shape.”

“No. No. No. No! That’s just not how it works. It’s not coming can’t you see that? We’re going to be stuck in this dark until we atrophy and die. The sun will not come.”

The breeze tangled her dark hair even more, lifting it away from her glistening eyes. I sat her down on one of the wicker chairs. She returned her gaze to the sky, mourning the moon like the loss of a lover. It is said that the moon controls the tides. Well, I think it’s got a pull on her as well. Those nights were long, dark, and full of her anxiety, tears. What would she do if I simply disappeared? She never let go of my hand. She’d mentioned once that I was the only thing that kept her grounded on these long nights. If I weren’t here she’d simply float up into that empty sky, ceasing to exist.

I never would have thought this college graduate, this brilliant educated mind, could be gripped by such an irrational fear. I had told her, explained it all time and time again, that the moon never disappeared entirely. It was never really gone. I tried to explain that we would all be well aware if the sun ever decided to burn out. We had scientists for that. The end of our solar system would not come to an end in our lifetime. Nor would it come in our children’s lifetimes. She would never believe me. She would stand at the edge of the balcony, as she had all the times before. She would tremble and shake, crying until all her tears had been spent. The only movement was her pulling my hand to her chest, grounding herself. Every muscle taught, her jaw set in a firm line, locked in place. For hours she would remain, without saying a word, without moving from that spot. No matter what I said or tried to do, she would return to that spot, that exact position. If I refused her my hand, she would cry harder, wailing her lament into the night sky. Violently shaking, she would plead with the stars to raise the sun come dawn. She never listened to reason. Not until dawn crept up over that far horizon, shattering the dark and all her fanciful demons. Even after the sun had risen, for hours she would remain awake, just to be sure the sun was here to stay. Her nightmare would be over and we wouldn’t speak of it until the next moonless night.

This night in particular, the last black night when I forgot the moon would vanish for the night, she cracked. Despite my repeated attempt to tell her sunrise was set for 7:56, she would not, could not allow herself that belief. She was wound much to tight, her nails left tiny crescent moons of blood in my arm. Even as dawn approached, she clung to me relentlessly. This was no way to exist. Never had I know one could fear the dark this much. She was like a child trapped in a young woman’s body.

“Andrew, I can’t keep doing this.”

“Don’t talk like that or I’ll have you committed.”

“For what? Dreading the day the sun refuses to come back ‘round again?”

“Precisely, you think you can’t do this. Think of me, having to watch you do this every month. It’s like you’re an entirely different person. I can’t even reason with you. I’m no help at all; I’m here to ground you.”

I trailed off, her eye searched the stars, and she wasn’t even listening to me anymore.

“The stars must be lonely.” She whispered to me. For some reason I thought she was talking of herself. I pried her hand from my arm, and slipped inside, hoping to find something to put her to sleep. I remember being fed up with this whole charade, tired and worn out from doing this every month. I looked back to see her reaching for my hand but not moving from her place. I remember thinking this cycle had to be broken. If she fell asleep perhaps she would realize that this was normal, that without the moon the sun would rise and the days would continue. I hoped that she would realize there was nothing unnatural about such a dark night.

I fumbled around in the kitchen, using my flashlight to flush out the contents of our cabinets. I came across some Trazadon and poured a glass of orange juice and crushed the Trazadon. I only hoped she wouldn’t notice the odd taste. With the state she was in I doubted she would. I returned to the balcony, her hand still rummaged through the air, seeking my own. I placed the glass in her outstretched hand.

“Drink. If you’re not going to sleep you can at least take care of yourself for me.”

She relinquished her hold on the railing, raking her hand through her snarled mess of hair, and tipped the glass back downing its contents without a second’s hesitation. She dropped the glass, letting it fall to the ground. I cringed at the sound of shattering glass down below. She never tore her gaze from the sky.

“It’s not coming. I’m telling you the end is near.”

“I told you stop talking like that, it’s going to be back in the morning. Everything will be back to normal. This irrational fear has got to go Nikole.”

 She trailed off, slouching over the rail.

“What did you do?”

Her gaze pierced me thoroughly before she succumbed to the darkness beneath her lids. I carried her to our room, and we slept. For the first night of all the damnable dark night we slept.

I woke to the sound of her screaming. Thrashing about at first with what I thought was the remnants of a nightmare until I realized. I covered her mouth, cradled her in my arms to cease her movement. When she finally quieted I lifted my hand from her now silent mouth. She stared terrified at the clock on the wall.

“I told you.”

She whispered.

“Oh how I told you.”

She pushed my arms from around her shoulders throwing me back against the head board. She ran out of the room, feet slapping against the tiled floor, I knew where she was headed. I glanced back to the clock on the wall; it read three in the afternoon.  We’d overslept. I jumped out of bed, hurrying after her, in hopes to drag her back inside. On my way I bashed my knee against one of the kitchen chairs.

“Why don’t you turn on the damn light?”

Rubbing my injured knee I stumbled out to the balcony only to stop suddenly, startled by the absence of light.

My injured knee forgotten I turned back to look at the clock in the kitchen. It was three, three in the afternoon. The sun, where was that fabulous sun.

“She was right. Oh god, she was right.”

Her screams pierced my eardrums.

“I told you. I told you! And you had to go and drug me.”

Her wailing was not the only sound reverberating through the night. Far into the distance the howling of coyotes or wolves could be heard. I grasped her hand, holding on for dear life.

“You were right.”

I remember the day I feared the dark as she did. The blackness hung over us, like a permanent plague. I remember the day the sun never rose again.

Reviews

[WayOath]

I really liked this. I mean,the idea of the sun not coming up isn't original. But the way you told it was. I felt as if I was feeling the suspense and confusion of your characters. The girl that KNEW it wasn't coming up, wow, she was so psychotic or was she? You know? It was just really awesome. Of course you know you wrote it. I love this idea and I understand why it is a story. I would love to read more of it. I wish there were more but I understand why there is not.

:)

[grady sedgwick]

Hi nikole, I’ll offer comments and suggestions. Toss out everything that doesn’t fit your vision of the story.

In your opening three paragraphs, imo, you’re working too hard, laying on the drama too thick. Consider setting up the story with the basics, who what when and where, then, once the reader is familiar with your characters and has started to care about them, you can start the drama.

“It’s all over isn’t it? It’s never gonna come up again. She’s never gonna show her face. How will we go on? What is gonna happen when the sun doesn’t come? Andrew?”……….. slow all this over-the-top writing down. rather, give the reader the basics. You can’t expect a reader to care about what is going on until we know your characters.

“Her eyes searched mine, as they had searched the sky, looking for answers.” ………….. come on down to earth and include the reader in all this.

All right, I need to stop halfway. The writing is good. You clearly have a talent for that, but you can’t force importance on the reader. It all has to be more subtle and gradual. Don’t rush it, relax and tell the story.

Grady