Absence of Day

Moonlight

The rain was pattering out of her bedroom window. 

It was a gloomy kind of rain, the kind that delivers a kind of ache right behind the eyes, but nevertheless, it was the kind that Daybreak was used to falling asleep to. 
Daybreak, the word echoed through her mind. What a wishful name, what a wishful world. A daybreak in forever darkness. 
Daybreak, the name fluttered, falling, like a butterfly with a broken wing, landing on the ground, disappearing into the murk. 
Nightfall, she thought. Yes, that was more like it, more like her life. 
Day yawned and flipped over on her bed. The forever thick clouds that blocked the sun's light from reaching the surface, ever, poured down more rain, like a song of triumph. The song started at first with the steady drum of that rain pounding on the roof, then falling to the bleak, downtrodden earth. Then, it was accompanied by the crash of thunder and the whole scene lit up by a thread of lighting flashing through the mist. 

Day longed for the song to end. 
Day longed for daybreak. 
Day longed for happiness. 

She longed for the impossible. 

Outside her battered window, the wind moaned, tearing away at the bending trees, trying to rip the bowing oaks from the very soil in which they stood. Day nestled into her silky covers and tried to not glance at her blinking green clock perched on the wooden dresser standing beside her bed. She knew that one minute 9 seconds had passed since she had last glanced. Oh, make that 10 seconds. 

Not that she had been counting or anything. 

Day suppressed another yawn and tried to ignore the wailing storm that seemed to press in on her, only inches of transparent strengthened silicon between her and... everything that kept her awake out there. 

The song ended. 

Day blinked in surprise. Then, in amazement. She lifted her head and could have sworn she could see a faint gleam of light. Real light. It shone through the clouds in thin white rays it seemed wherever it bathed its warmth, the rain disappeared. But there was not much of this light and it soon seemed to be swallowed by the darkness yet again. 

That night she dreamed of rising above the clouds and seeing the sun. 

Day stepped off the conveyor belt she used to get to school and yawned. Last night's sleepless night had definitely taken its toll on her. She glanced up at the black sky, lit only by the slight gray that dawn brought, and down at her black-toed shoes. Down lower, where fluorescent lights reflected her puffy-eyed face back at her, she looked away and sighed. 

Daybreak, she thought. Day lived for daybreak. 

"Day!" A voice called. "You look like you were left out in last sleep's rain!" The voice had laughter in it and Day growled softly to herself. "What?" the voice continued. "Were you scared of the thunder?" Day ignored the voice and barged past the speaker, but she couldn't resist to retort. 

"What, and you weren't?" But before she could get away, large hands wrapped around her neck. 
"What was that?" Adriana asked softly. Day wriggled, trying to get away. "Perhaps you were scared the lightning would blow the roof off of your little shack?" she sneered. 
"My parents worked very hard to have that little shack!" Day said defiantly but immediately regretted it. The hand around her neck tightened and lifted her into the air. 
"Say that one more time..." the voice threatened." Day remained silent. "Talk!" Adriana shouted. "Now!" 

Day remained silent. 

A punch hit her straight in the eye.  Pain scrawled through her face. She slumped forward and the hand released her. Day hit the ground with a thud, her hip aching. A kick made contact with her side and she winced, pulling forward into a tight ball.  

"To what may be going on, I'd like to know." a familiar teacherly voice said sternly. Day shivered, but relief also swamped out the dread. She was saved for now and that was good. The future was still swamped in the darkness though. 

Day returned home that night wishing her parents could afford a better home than this small one. Though strong against the high winds, it still moaned and the electricity was poor. The house had running water but it was not able to warm for showers or cooking. The kitchen was just a sink and a stove and dinner was always cheap frozen dinner, the dining table and chairs made of boxes. 

Day rushed to the mirror in the one small bathroom and inspected her black eye. A single oil lamp flickered next to her, illuminating the chipped mirror and leaking toilet. She sighed, noticing a huge purple bruise that ringed above her eyelashes and huddled beneath her eyelid. She touched it, hesitantly, and it let out a huge throb. Day yelped.

"Day!" came a harsh voice from outside, followed by a loud knock. "Your mother wants to know what you are doing in there!" Day sighed and responded. 

"Coming." she responded. Above her, the rain started again. It began with a soft drumming, almost gentle. Then the first of the lightning let out an earsplitting shriek, and thunder rumbled. The rain drummed above her head harder, banging on the roof, trying to get in. 

It couldn't  get in. 

"We do not have all day." Her father barked. 

"Coming, Dad." Day said again. She slowly slid open the door, unwillingly, regretfully. "Well?" she asked. 

Her father seized her chin in his harsh grip. 

"What happened?" he demanded, his rough, callused fingers squeezing into her skin. "Who did this to you?" his attention was directed at the purple bruise around her eye. 
Day tore her face away from his harsh hand. 

"No one important." she retorted and marched towards the excuse of a kitchen. 

Day was in bed again and she stared at the relentless storm that seemed to tear the world apart just outside her bedroom window. 

Daybreak, she thought and buried her head in her pillow. She wanted to live till daybreak. When day broke above the darkness. She wanted to see the sun, shining it's bright beams above the land and awakening all the trees from their sleep that lasted all of the night, which meant always. She wanted to see the sky and trees in the true color that they had once been before the Earth became too polluted and thick with clouds too let through the sun's light. Her eyes drooped. 

There. There was that white light again. It seemed to let out an eerie moan as it shone through the clouds, a small open spot. It's beams, small but bright, landed on some of the trees gently and the trees seemed to strengthen. This was not the light of the sun. This was the light of the moon, it's quiet glory boring a hole through the clouds, let the world know what it once had been. It called Day, beckoned her. 

Quietly, Day slipped out of bed and towards the moonlight.