I was walking home from my friend’s house. It was 8:00 at night and it was getting cold. The sky was a deep blue, the street lamps were on, and the moon was full and radiant. I was cold. No, not cold. Freezing. During the day it was warm enough to wear sleeveless shirts, but once the sun went down, I would kill for a jacket. The walk home was short anyway. My friend only lived five minutes away. We’d share my writings and have deep talks. Half the time I only felt he was putting crappy gibberish into my head. Yes, I write. I have been writing for as long as I can remember. I clutched my laptop close to my hip as the wind flirted with my hair, lifting its short strands away from my face.
My brother came running out but stopped as soon as he saw me. “Brigitte, time for dinner!” I’m sure the whole neighborhood heard him. He didn’t need to yell, I was coming, I was right there. “It’s turkey sausage and rice,” he said as I neared him.
“Nice,” I said. I was tired of my brother’s daily details. He walked next to me completely oblivious. He looked up and told me to look at the moon. It was bright, round, very radiant, and very dominant in the night sky.
YOU ARE READING
Eternal.
Teen Fiction- A young poet suffering from PTSD and Depression thought she knew her place in life. That’s before she gets acquainted with a boy who seems to be following her. By the way he talks, and his constant disappearing, Brigitte realizes that the boy is n...
