24 Hours

Hour Zero

“You know that time when it’s like around 2am and all the walls in your head just kind of break down and your thoughts spill out, just imagine that’s what time it is.” Megan, Instant Star

 Hour Zero

        It is strange walking around the middle of downtown at 1 am. I don’t know where I am going; probably because I’m not walking towards anything, I’m running away from something. I have never been a fast runner though. It’s not only strange, it is also terrifying. My parents always tell me that I shouldn’t walk alone when the sun isn’t out.

        Despite the fear I feel I can’t help but marvel at the beauty that darkness brings. All the stores are locked up. The shades are down and all the lights turned off. The stars are shining brightly in the sky and the temperature is just right, not too hot, not too cold, and with a little breeze.

        As I stand, taking in the beauty of it all, my phone beings to buzz in my pocket. I pull it out 32 missed calls. 70 unread text messages. 20 voicemails.

        I decide to listen to one of the voicemails.

        Sweetie, it’s your mom. My eyes begin to tear up as I hear her voice and I want her to comfort me. I want her to hold me and tell me that everything will be alright.

        I know that you’re mad. I am mad. I am so mad that I want to break something. I always hear those stories of people who got so mad that they punch a wall. I never understood how someone could get that angry but I understand now. I am so mad that I could punch a wall.

        And I know that you’re upset but I need you to come home. Just come home and I promise that everything is going to be alright. She’s lying. She knows it won’t be alright. Nothing will ever be alright again.

        Your little brother is asking where you are. He doesn’t understand why you left. Please come home… for him.

        I delete the voicemail and throw my phone as hard as I can at the wall beside me. I make sure to stomp on it as I continue walking down main street. In the distance I see the lights of a store. It’s one in the morning everything should be closed. My curiosity piqued, I walk straight for the light in the distance.

        As my feet carry me closer to the light, I realize that it is not a store at all. It’s an old-fashioned diner with a neon sign flashing in the window that reads Open 24 Hours in pink fluorescent. The front wall is filled with windows and I see several booths and a counter with those circular stools that spin around. The place looks deserted. I carefully open the door and a loud bell jingles as I walk into the diner.

        Like magic, a man appears behind the counter. He wears a sweet smile and looks old enough to be my grandpa. His face is covered in flour and he’s wearing one of those white cooking aprons. Attached to the apron is a name tag that reads William.

        I take a seat in front of him at the counter and he asks, “Well check the ice. What can I do for you young lady?”

        I’m not sure if I’m really hungry but I decide to order something anyway. “Can I have a hot chocolate and an order of pancakes?” I ask tentatively.

        “A hot top and a short stack coming right up.” I can’t understand half of what he says but I smile as I watch the man disappear through a door behind him, into what I can only assume is the kitchen. He’s probably the only person here right now. I mean I doubt he gets very much business at this time.