Children of Midnight

:02

The house hasn't changed one bit. It was still squeezed between other Victorian buildings that seemed as if they were supposed to be haunted. Ezra didn't recall any ghosts walking through the halls of the sleepy house, that, however, didn't mean there weren't any. Ezra was never much of a believer (this is what happens when you allow your kid to go to cemetery at midnight). If anything, by now ghosts adored Ezra and his friends. Which he wasn't sure if was for the better or the worse.

They once even had this conversation with Cody.

"Do you want to be haunted?"

"Hell yeah!" Cody replied, taking a deep breath before he banged on his chest with his hands covered in bandages. He liked to do that; he claimed that every girl adored strong men on which Thalia snorted. "I would make a TV show out of it! You know, like the Ghost Hunters? The ghost would become popular and I would get tons of money! It would be win-win."

"Okay, cool. But the ghost would like... pull your hair and—" Ezra didn't have any time to finish his sentence, because he was cut off by Thalia.

"Hush, Ezra. Let the poor boy dream," she rolled her eyes, elegantly brushing away the hair from her face. "What about you, Alex? You wanna be haunted?"

"Yes. When I die, I would have friends on the other side too!"

"Oh, please," Thalia winked at him. "We would be joining you there soon."

Back then, it was all fun and games. Sometimes Ezra dreamed about going back to those times. To times when Thalia didn't cover her hands with so many bandages. Cody didn't have plans on running away. Alex didn't have so dark bruises. Ezra's mom didn't drink so much.

"We will take the bags out tomorrow, okay?" Ezra looked up to his mom, who nearly gave him a heart attack. Her face was sickly pale, but he signed it off to the moonshine and weak light from street lamps.

"Sure."

"I told you to pack the most important stuff into your bag, but if you need anything, we can still unpack other bags," she clearly didn't want to do any of it now and truth to be told, neither did Ezra.

"Nah," he waved it off. "I should have everything."

"Great."

Ezra took in a deep breath of cold wind that bit his lungs from inside. November already made its entrance, but Halloween decorations still hung from dark buildings and old, dry trees that were covered with only handful of colorful leaves. If Ezra would be younger, he might be terrified of the sight.

Tall, Victorian houses that were hovering over the street, illuminated only by a small beam of pale, yellow light. Trees covered in spider-webs and skeletons that people bought in those stores which emerged from nowhere, but soon were lost again after Halloween would end. The only sound that interrupted the silence was howling of the wind. Goosebumps begun to rise of Ezra's arms. There was an uneasy feeling in his stomach, what somehow managed to silence the anxiety that has been eating him alive.

Graveyards were scary too. But he was never afraid to go there with other Children of Midnight. They had other things to think about. Crooked shadows and strange sounds didn't appeal to them so much. But now, standing on a street bathed in weak light of moon and lamps, Ezra finally got time to appreciate the view. He didn't like it. The coldness. The emptiness. For a while he thought that any minute now, he would see mist-like people walking around. Crying. Begging.

Ezra grabbed his bag way too quickly. Slammed the car door shut maybe a bit too loudly. Now he'd probably woken up half the block.

Since when are you scared of dark?