Rooftop Summer | EN- Jake

8

Hanna wandered through the quiet, dimly lit streets, her footsteps echoing softly against the pavement. The night had grown cooler, the breeze tugging at her jacket as if urging her to  go back, but she pushed forward, determined to find some sense of peace, some escape from the crushing weight that had settled on her chest. The city was vast and empty, but for the first time in days, she felt a sliver of freedom, a faint reminder of the life she had once lived.

As she walked, her eyes were drawn to an old building at the end of the street. It stood taller than the others, its, once perfect, front worn and weathered by time. The windows were dark, some boarded up, others shattered, and the entrance was covered in graffiti, remnants of a past that had long since faded away. The building had an air of quiet desolation, as if it had been forgotten by the world, just like she felt she had been.

Something about the building called to her, a strange, inexplicable pull that urged her to explore its hidden depths. She hesitated for a moment, glancing around to make sure no one was watching, then approached the entrance, her hand trembling slightly as she pushed open the heavy door. The wood creaked under the pressure, and the door gave way, revealing a dark, shadowy interior.

Hanna stepped inside, her breath catching in her throat as she took in the sight before her. The lobby was vast and empty, the floor littered with debris, the walls cracked and peeling. Faint shafts of moonlight filtered through the broken windows, casting eerie patterns on the floor. The air was thick with the scent of dust and decay, a testament to the years of neglect this place had endured.

She took a few cautious steps forward, her senses heightened as she tried to make out the details of the room. In the dim light, she could just make the outline of a grand staircase at the far end, its once ornate banisters now covered in layers of dust. The stairs led upwards, disappearing into the darkness above, and Hanna felt a strange urge to follow them, to see where they led.

With a deep breath, she started up the stairs, her footsteps echoing in the silence. The building groaned around her, the old wood protesting under her weight, but she kept going, driven by the same inexplicable pull that had brought her here. As she climbed, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched, that someone—or something— was aware of her presence. But she pushed the thought aside, focusing instead on reaching the top.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she reached the uppermost floor. A narrow hallway stretched out before her, ending in a single door that seemed to glow faintly in the moonlight. Hanna hesitated for a moment, her heart pounding in her chest, then reached out and pushed the door open.

A gust of cool night air hit her as she stepped out onto the rooftop, the city unfolding before her like a vast, glittering ocean. The skyline was a sea of lights, each one twinkling like a distant star, and for a moment, Hanna simply stood there, taking in the breathtaking view. It was as if she had stepped into another world, a world far removed from the suffocating confines of the hospital.

But then, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed something—or rather, someone. At the far end of the rooftop, a boy was sitting on the edge, his legs dangling over the side, his back to her as he stared out at the city. His silhouette was dark against the glow of the skyline, his posture still and contemplative, as if he were lost in thought.

Hanna's breath caught in her throat. She hadn't expected to find anyone up her, least of all someone who looked as lost and alone as she felt. For a moment, she considered turning back, slipping away before he noticed her. But something stopped her. Maybe it was the same pull that had brought her to this building, or maybe it was the quiet companionship that the boy seemed to offer, but she found herself moving forward, drawn to the silent presence at the edge of the rooftop.

Without saying a word, Hanna made her way to the opposite end of the rooftop, her footsteps soft against the worn concrete. She didn't want to startle him, didn't want to intrude on whatever thoughts he was wrestling with. But she also didn't want to be alone, not tonight. There was a strange comfort in knowing that someone else was up here, someone who might understand the turmoil that had been raging inside her.

When she reached the edge, she hesitated for just a moment, then sat down, her legs dangling over the side just as his were. The cool breeze tugged at her hair, and she pulled her jacket tighter around herself, feeling the cold bite into her skin. She didn't look at the boy, and he didn't look at her, but she could feel the tension in the air, the unspoken understanding that had formed between them.

For a long time, they sat in silence, the city stretching out below them, vast and indifferent. The lights of the buildings twinkled like stars, and the sounds of the night drifted up to them, distant and muted. Hanna didn't know what the boy was thinking, didn't know why he was here, but she found herself comforted by his presence, by the quiet companionship they shared without the need for words.

The night wore on, the sky above them a deep, velvety black, dotted with a handful of stars that had managed to break through the city's glow. The moon hung low in the sky, casting a pale, silvery light over the rooftop, and for the first time in days, Hanna felt a sense of calm settle over her. The despair that had gripped her so tightly seemed to loosen its hold, if only a little, and she found herself breathing more easily, her mind less cluttered with dark thoughts.

She glanced over at the boy, studying his profile in the moonlight. He was younger than she had first thought, probably around her age, with dark hair that fell over his eyes and a lean frame that spoke of someone who had seen too much, too soon. There was a sadness in his posture, a quiet resignation that she recognised all too well.

But she didn't say anything. She didn't ask him why he was here, or what had brought him to this rooftop on a cold, lonely night. She didn't need to. They were both here for the same reason, both seeking something they couldn't quite name, something that had drawn them to this forgotten place.

Instead, she turned her gaze back to the city, letting the silence between them stretch out, comfortable and unbroken. The rooftop felt like a world of its own, a small, quiet refuge from the chaos of their lives below. And for now, that was enough.

Hanna wasn't sure how long they sat there, side by side, both lost in their own thoughts. Time seemed to slow down, the night stretching on into eternity, but she didn't mind. For the first time in along while, she felt a sense of peace, a sense of belonging, even if it was just for this brief moment.

Eventually, the boy shifted slightly, and Hanna felt him turn his head to look at her. She didn't meet his gaze, but she could feel his she's on her, studying her just as she had studied him. For a moment, she wondered if he was going to speak, if he was going to break the silence that had settled so comfortably between them.

But he didn't. Instead, he simply turned back to the city, his gaze fixed on the horizon, as if searching for something just out of reach. Hanna did the same, and together, they watched as the first light of dawn began to creep over the skyline, painting the sky with soft hues of pink and orange.

As the sun rose, casting its war glow over the city, Hanna felt a strange sense of hope stirred within her. It was faint, fragile, but it was there, a small ember that had been reignited by the quiet companionship she had found on this rooftop. She didn't know what the future held, didn't know how much time she had left, but for the first time since her diagnosis, she felt like she might be able to face it.

When the light grew too bright o ignore, Hanna finally stood, her legs stiff from sitting so long. The boy didn't move, didn't acknowledge her departure, but that was okay. She didn't need him to. They had shared something in silence, something that didn't require words.

Without a word, she turned and walked back to the door that led inside, her footsteps echoing softly on the concrete. As she pushed open the door and stepped back into the darkness of the building, she took one last look at the rooftop, at the boy sitting at its edge.

And then, with a deep breath, she descended the stairs, back into the waking city, knowing that she would return to this place, this rooftop, and the silent boy who had unknowingly given her a reason to keep going.