this time, i write to you from computer.
Today, there is an empty lot, covered in weeds and fallen bricks from a building that was halfway made. Overtime that building was overtaken by nature.
The lamp, that strange street lamp, is in the middle of the building.
It's strange that it should be in the middle of what was a building, right? It's unique in a way as well. Although the whole building is overrun by weeds and so may different plants, at night, when nothing can be seen without the moon's light, the lamp will turn on.
It makes no noise, but rather just glows silently. A calm natural glow that casts warm light around the middle of the halfway made room. There aren't any animals or any sort of life wrapped around the light. It's simply sitting in the middle of everything. Animals come and go inside that building and always stay long enough to see the lamp light itself slowly, and gently. They never stay too long though, and leave before the lamp turns off when the first rays of sun shine into the land. The lamp is corroded at parts, but not falling apart at all.
As for tonight, you and I will be the first ones to watch it light and then fade away as the sun shines into the land. So keep your eyes open and focused, for I doubt that you'll be able to see something like this again.
The vines and different fauna are themselves like walls of the unfinished room, so they insulate the room quite well. A breeze cuts through often though, so sit closer to my side.
If you look up, you can see the old wise moon staring down at the world with watchful eyes, soaking up everything that happens.
Be quiet for a second!
There's a small little bird creeping closer to your leg!
It's bright colored and it tips it's head to you like it's bowing. A cute little thing really.
As the night draws on, our attention snaps to something that sounds like voices. We're in the middle of a forest with no sign of human life besides the two of us, so what could it be? Suddenly, the moon vanishes from the night sky, leaving us in total darkness.
It's alright, I have no intentions of leaving you to fend for yourself in a place like this.
From where the lamp is, a white clear ghost like that from the Christmas Carol, wisps forward. The spirit is that of a young child, who laughs and dances around the lamp for a small while, before something that looks like an adult stands in front of him. I fear that this is not a good Carol, and cover your eyes.
I am alone witness to the story of the small child who was enjoying his time playing and laughing cheerily.
The adult's hand reached down and grabbed the boy by his throat, and with little to no hesitation, strangled him.
The boy screamed and screamed, wailing for whoever it was to stop in their fury with words one so young should not have known. The boy's gentle features were frozen in an eternal scream, waiting for the person he must have trusted the most to stop, to "stop, mama! Stop!"
That boy's doe like eyes rolled back into his head and his face turned to me.
You must have felt my shaking, but I dared not to move myself away from blocking you.
The scene changed to that of the boy's mother, wailing and crying on the street, with her child's body in her arms.
It was snowing that night. When the moon had vanished from the sky and allowed a mother to get away with a blind murder of her child. She had been drinking, shown by the smell that overpowered the room when she had strangled the boy. He was her outlet for her pain that time, and that night, the mother froze to death with her son in her arms.
Along the wind, words carried themselves to us.
"Thank you, for staying. Mama says she's sorry that you had to see that, but that we'll be watching you both from now on since you're so nice."
I uncovered your gaze and let you watch the mother and son who were sitting in front of us with smiles.
The mother mouthed something.
"Thank you. For watching my story."
Then, as the first streams of light landed into the small unmade room and where the lamp post were, the two wrapped themselves around us, warm and cool, before flying off to the almighty.
We went home to our own houses that day, and placed warm hugs and kisses to our families. Never once forgetting the story of the mother, son, and the lamp post.
However, sometimes I can feel a warm calming touch to my head, and a childish enlightening laugh whenever I don't feel so well, and when times get hard to bear through. Although we've gained two guardian angels, I've gone back to that abandoned structure in the woods. When I passed through the front doors of the building, inside were furniture this time. The lamp post was gone, and in it's place was instead an inscription carved by a steady hand.
It simply read,
'A mother's love, and a child's soul, last for eternity, held by a bond unbreakable.'
