Nightshade

Friday Night

          March 31st, 2017

   By 3:42 P.M., Arthur arrives home, and listens to Spotify in the living room. He is the first one home. 
      It had been a rather dull week.
     After a half an hour or so, Arthur goes into the kitchen to wash the few dishes that are still there, leftover from the morning. He washes the red, quartz countertop. Then his friend Jacob texts him, "hey man what's going on?"
     Then, after a few seconds, he adds, "why weren't you at the park today anyway?"
     Arthur doesn't really feel like texting, so he keeps his response minimal. He types back; "I'm good, just have a lot of studying tonight, TTYL." He doesn't feel like associating with anyone right now. 

     Arthur views socializing as draining because of how people, especially kids, like to judge. They also tell you that you're not in the right place in life. It's hard to always feel like you're in a display case.

     In general, Arthur is treated like a king at school, yet he often find that people pick apart everything about him. Arthur understands that by judging someone, you label them as too crooked and unholy to be considered part of the divine. It doesn't matter what other people think. It matters what you feel like doing at the time, because that is what will you with provide the most honest life. This is his preferred way to deal with fluctuating self-esteem.

     For the most part however, criticism from peers doesn't affect him because of his easygoing, relaxed, and warm nature, and his charming persona. The only time when Arthur is not chill and easy-going is when he is in competitive environments, such as sports. He plays basketball, skateboards, and runs in the fall.

    Flaking out because he "had to study" reminds him to actually start studying. He knows that he might as well get it out of the way. He goes back to the couch, puts his headphones back on, and opens his backpack. Its contents are a complete mess, and it seems a miracle that he is able to manage any of his schoolwork with his lack of organization. He takes out math to do first because its the easiest. Boring, but still easy.

     A hour later, Arthur is no longer alone. The door opens, revealing a ninth grade track athlete with long, dark, hair.
     "Hi," Arthur's sister Soline, says cheerfully. She runs all the way up to her room and back in what seems like half a second, and re-applies her Kylie Jenner liquid lipstick. Happiness radiates from her because she is finally free from the strict timetable of the earlier hours of the day.
     His mother also comes inside the house, carrying a grocery bag. She has her bottle-blonde hair tied up, likely having just returned from the gym.
     Well, although he was hoping to be alone for a little longer, he is happy to see them.
     His concentration broken, Arthur puts his pencil down, and goes into the bathroom to splash some water on his face. His reflection in the mirror is almost a stereotype. A perfect blend of a Hollywood actor and a slightly sketchy skater kid, he has sharp cheekbones, a thin upper lip, golden-brown skin, and vibrant blue eyes.
     His mother announces that she is making dinner, so Arthur decides to go on a walk down along the beach while she is cooking.
     Arthur puts a pair of sunglasses on and leaves. It is now sunset, and the view on the beach is quite an idyll. He often thinks that the rest of his family doesn't appreciate the amazing place in which they live as much as he does. The breeze, the scenery, and everything else is flawless here, and this evening exhibits all three of these factors perfectly. Arthur sometimes thinks he  will never leave here.
     Before he knows it, he is out of time, so he walks up the trail and then the road that leads to his house.
     At home, his mom and sister have just started to eat, so Arthur sits down and serves himself.
     Arthur hears a dreamy and mysterious melody from another house in the background...
    
     "...I like to watch the Riviera, slow-dance underneath the stars, I like to watch the sun come up... In a stranger's arms, and this is home...this is home..."
....................................................................................
That night...
     In the heart of the Riviera, on the coast of The City of Angels, a dark, graceful figure tenuously makes her way across a wall of cinder blocks. In one swift leap she lands on the wet sand below.
     She tilts her head up, breathes in the salty ocean air, and cautiously analyzes her surroundings. Her ears turn to listen to the the ocean's sounds. The air contains the mildly nostalgic fragrance of lilac. The pale moonlight pours into her vibrant, ultraviolet eyes.
     Most of the citizens near the oasis have retired for the night, all but one young person. He is still awake, alone in his downstairs bedroom, dreaming, and watching the palm trees sway in the light, underneath of the stars. 
     And as she returns to wandering along the coastline, she passes beside the complex of upper-middle class flats. Captivated by the one light left on,  she alights on the window sill, and enters through the open window.
     The cat, the one named Nightshade, blinks her plum-coloured eyes, temporarily blinded by the brilliant light emanating from the chamber. Then her eyes meet with the boy's for the first time.
.....................................................................
     P.O.V. Del Arthur:
    
     The mood in the bedroom is altered in his perception as she arrives. He is instantly attracted to her presence. He sits up in bed and looks at her, and appears to almost smile. The cat leans her head deeper into the room, her eyes glimmering. Arthur feels an instant familiarity, as if he knows her from somewhere. He doesn't know how, but she is his friend already. He reaches out his hand, and she rubs her head against it. He decides to call her Carmen. It just comes to his mind, and he doesn't bother questioning it.*
     "Hello," Arthur says. He looks at her metal collar, which reads "NIGHTSHADE" in bold, deeply-engraved lettering. Nightshade lays down on the window sill, and closes her eyes, her tail encircling her body. Exhausted, the boy is drawn, as if by a strong and unseen source into a half-slumber. After all, it is nearly the A.M.
     Some time later, the boy glances up, just as the cat vanishes back into the velvet night from where she had first emerged. He is then pulled back into the world of dreams, their would be no sign of her when morning arrived. He would remember nothing of their encounter upon the arrival of the sun.
     So the weekend goes by peacefully...

     *Cats don't actually have names, of course, because they already know who they are 

     Fate seems to hold souls to a purpose outside of their knowledge.