The Moth

Chapter Six: Rooftop// Somewhere Between Darkness and Light

Chapter Six: Rooftop// Somewhere Between Darkness and Light

One night she was on my roof before me. I'd fallen asleep early and woke up in the middle of the night, suddenly remembering I had someone to meet. I wiped my eyes and took a quick trip to the bathroom to freshen up before I slid open the window and stepped out.

"Ah!"

I jerked my head up and my foot slipped as I landed square on the windowsill. I groaned, bringing myself back inside and curling up, trying to will the pain away. There was a laugh outside and I straightened.

Tch. Crap.

She peered down at me with a grin playing on her face. "Hey, you okay?"
I held in a breath and nodded, my neck and ears heating up.

She motioned for me to come out. "It's beautiful today.... tonight."

I nodded again, slowly following her outside. Carefully this time, making sure not to slip again.

She was settled again in her usual spot a couple feet away and she flattened out her legs so I could step over her to my normal spot.

We sat in silence. Lonely nights make friends out of strangers.

I bit my lip and looked at her. She'd pulled up her knees against her chest and was staring out across the rooftops.

"Hey."
She raised an eyebrow, still staring across."Hmm?"

"How do you get up here?"

She smiled. "I have my ways."

I furrowed my brow and nodded. "Oh. Of course. Great answer."

She chuckled. "There's a ladder someone leaves outside. I use that to climb up, then I make my way across the rooftops to here. It's easier that they're all connected." She raised an eyebrow. "Why? How'd you think I made it up here."

I looked down at my hands. "I thought you jumped."

She snickered, and I waved a hand in her direction. "Oh shut it. I didn't think too hard about it, okay?"

I could see her grinning from the corner of my eye and I looked up at the sky, a smile tugging on my own lips as I interlocked my fingers behind my head and leaned back. The stars blinked down at me. They were beautifully bright tonight.

As the days went on, I made it a habit to come outside at exactly midnight.

Sometimes she'd bring something with her. A flower, or twig she'd picked up off the ground. Every time, she'd leave it for me on the windowsill. A present, she said. The first few times, I forgot them there and they flew away in the wind. But then I started slipping them inside my pocket for safekeeping. When I went back inside, I'd store them in a drawer, pressing the flowers in textbooks. For safekeeping.

It was my box of souvenirs. In case I ever forgot it really happened to begin with. If she ever really existed at all, in those breaks somewhere between morning and night.

It's been so long since I've seen her, but she has to be real, right? Why would something that never existed leave you in so much pain?