The air outside was humid and musky; the now familiar clouds weren't as silver as they used to be, back when all was good and bright. The night was darker; the deceiving shadows were everywhere, bouncing around my life with no care for how they affected me.
The solid curtain of murky gray clouds covered the moon and its purity. I stared out my bedroom window, sitting down on the floor with my laptop on my lap. The white blank page in front of me was the brightest thing in my life at the moment. I stared at it, trying to soak up some of its light.
A series of emotions, enveloped with confusion, swam in the pit of my chest, stabbing certain areas harder than others. My heart was battered, inflamed from taking the raw stabs, but the pain wasn't as bad anymore. Instead, there was a cold numbness, freezing me whole.
The brilliant white page shined brighter, calling me to it in the haze of my dark room, in the mist of the black night with its missing moon. I closed my eyes and prayed for the numbness to leave just for a little while, for my heart to open itself up like it used to. I wanted to feel great, big, crashing emotions—good or bad, it didn’t matter. I just wanted to feel something.
I opened my eyes and like instinct, Drake's—my MC—voice soothed its way through my mind and took refuge in my heart. I felt him inside of me, his words melting away the ice, tearing down the numbness. I typed those first, comforting words, my only company his engaging character. Word after word, his voice became louder, the images clearer, the story so real I was taken from this world—abducted to a place so foreign, yet, vastly familiar.
I was at peace.
My fingers spread and dashed across the keyboard with such velocity and freedom. The only soundtrack was his voice, the only picture in my mind was his pale silver eyes—the same eyes that never ceased to guide me through the storm. I could almost touch his large worn hands—the same hands that never stopped fighting for me, mending me. The soft wrinkles over his forehead were a sure sign of his worries for me. His selfless and gallant spirit brought on a familiar smile.
I wrote for hours that night. Right there on the floor next to my bedroom window, under the blackest night I’d had in a very long time. But it was there, in the maze of perplexing, throbbing shadows, that his silver eyes replaced the murky gray clouds and found the moon—the light of my moon.
Shadows raced in every direction. She sat on the sand, watching the twirling waves in the black lake. It was there, in between her and the dancing water that the light hid- Drake