I'm sitting on the roof again.
The sky is a fading purple blanket, with spills of blues and pinks and oranges, and the full moon is chasing the sun in hopes of one last moment together. Even Venus, the evening star, shone ever so brightly, almost as if she was reminding me what happened between Sol and I.
Tomorrow will be the first time I'll be seeing Soleil since the matric ball. Tomorrow will be officially the last day of high school.
Graduation Day. The end of this messy chaos, the beginning of living.
I lay back on the cold red tiling, contemplating my decisions. How did I even make it this far?
I turn my phone on, playing some music as the thoughts begin to become too much.
"Rage in us, you're the thirst I'm taking."
I wanna smoke so bad, so so bad. I miss Sol so much. His idiot friends, who've spurred these obsessions.
I would've been happier, not knowing better. Not knowing him at all, actually.
I wish I'd never met him at all, the good memories be damned.
I stick my hands in my pockets, sitting up to glaze the sea of homes. Many might say that the suburban life is boring, but I think it's almost ethereal, especially at sunset: watching all the lights go on, the smell of bad cheap wood, listening to Floral and Fading by Pierce the Veil.
Can't believe that one day, eventually, this will come to an end, for something new.
I'm trying to think of what I'd say to Sol tomorrow.
Would I even want to speak to him? Was I overreacting? But it wasn't because of him going to a different school, it was because he lied. I don't deal well with liars - which is a coincidence perhaps, since I'm the greatest liar I've ever known.
I think it's even more than the lying and the silent treatment, it's the effort he puts in. Aka, the lack thereof.
"Just wanna be alone and watch as you all just disappear."
I want to live like this forever. No needs, no people to let me down, just watching the world slowly crumble like a forgotten god crowned in laurels.
Just to be immortal like a sunset, swallowing the sun whole.
YOU ARE READING
Midnight Is Ours
Short Story"Us at midday was perfect, but I'm not perfect. I'm messy, nothing on earth could make me a sunrise like you. I'm as sunset as sunset could get. Thus, when the sun has died and midday is no longer, midnight is ours." In a well-awaited sequel of Us A...
