Moonlit Man (bxb)

Chapter 18 - Escape the Night

The balcony itself was a slab of sleek concrete, decorated with potted plants and outdoor lounge chairs. Thin planes of glass created a wall between the space and the outside atmosphere, revealing a steep drop into long trees which surrounded the hotel building. Further away, Sam could see the whole landscape of the city, glowing with a hue of burning orange as cars, taxis, and cyclists traveled the streets while apartment lights remained lit – even at three o'clock in the morning.

The air was colder now, which helped calm the rattling nerves inside Sam and lessen the heaviness in his chest. Somehow, he knew he was not going to get sleep tonight. He briefly stepped back into the room and headed towards the kitchen area. He reached for a bottle of red wine and a wine glass, before grabbing the throw blanket from the sofa and a small leather notebook from his suitcase, before heading back out. He laid down on the lounge chair which faced directly out to the city, taking a few sips of wine. He glanced to the balcony on his left, where Krondstat's room was. It was void of any light. He probably went to sleep. That's what normal people did at this time of the night – sleep, he thought.

A few glasses in and he started writing. He didn't think much and just wrote whatever came to his mind. Written confessions, thoughts, feelings, and any unsaid words, were encapsulated within the pages of this small book – a habit passed down to him by his mother. He remembered how she used to write every evening, while a curious, wide-eyed Sam would ask what she was doing. He reminisced how she would smile and say:

"There's power in words, mijo. Sometimes just writing them down can make a person feel better – like we're not alone."

He never really understood from the young age of six, but over the years he mirrored this practice and realized it helped untangle any mental knots within his mind. However, poetry came easily to him, and it soon took over most of the journal. He flipped through some of the pages written in the past. He stopped flicking when he came across a page titled 'Will':

Friendship is one of the greatest gifts,

For it cannot be bought and sold.

It can be said to be priceless,

like a mountain of gold.

But gold is cold and lifeless,

for it cannot talk or hear.

But Will is my friend,

and he is always near.

Through harsh times,

both thick and thin

when the sky seems to crack,

and the walls are caving in.

Though we never say it,

when times get rough, we stay together.

But right now, it stays in this book,

in these pages, bound by leather.

Sam read through those words as water dwelled in his eyes. He saw a drop fall onto the page which slowly grew before his vision was blurred. He clasped the book shut before rubbing his eyes, the faint colors made him think back to a humid night, fifteen years ago, when he was nine years old.

A MEMORY.

"Sam... wake up. We have to start now or we're going to get in trouble." His eyes cracked open, to be met with the tired, olive eyes of his best friend. Will. He was a thin boy with hollowed cheekbones, deep black hair and freckles sprinkled on the bridge of his nose, all strung together on tanned skin.