Children of Midnight

:03

Night was special, because every hour had a meaning.

Midnight was for ghosts and magic.

One a.m. was for night thinkers; for people whose thoughts wouldn't allow them to rest in peace.

Two a.m. was time for those who were in love, but kept their feelings hidden. Cloaked in lies.

Three a.m. was time for lost souls who had a secret resting on their chest; who weren't bold enough to voice a question out loud when the sun ruled the sky.

And four a.m. was time to make coffee with the spoon that was too small for mornings but ideal for sleepless nights like these.

Ezra added more milk into his drink, aware it would be too bitter anyway. He swallowed a yawn, his movements still a bit too dull, too slow. Since his mind had no time to switch (and the night had drugged him with its sleepy magic) Ezra was startled when coffee and silver weren't where he thought it would be. In panic, he ended up making a bit too noise in the quiet house.

A hot steam kissed his star-touched cheeks. A phone buzzed in his pocket.

Alex: You were supposed to text me when you arrived, idiot

Ezra grinned, his lips itching from the motion.

Ezra: Sorry. I haven't realized you missed me so much. I'm quite touched <3

Alex: I see you haven't changed at all. See u in five minutes at graveyard.

Ezra: You're a bad influence on me. You know that?

Alex: Funny

Alex: My dad says the same.

Ezra took a deep breath, pausing for a moment. The coffee grew colder with every second he stood there waiting. The thing was, if Alex's father would actually find out what his son and the other kids were up to, he would kill Alex. Not metaphorically. He would probably beat him to his death.

There was the guilt again. Maybe if Ezra would call the cops, his friend might be better now. Alex wouldn't have to wear hoodies all the time to hide blackish bruises. But it also was Alex who begged Ezra not to say a word and help him with dressing up his wounds.

"Cops won't help."

"You don't know that."

"No, no," Alex furiously shook with his head. "You don't get it. Getting police involved will only make it worse... I just... know it... Please don't tell anyone. I promise it will never happen again."

It did happen again. The following week to be specific.

Ezra: See you in five min

Alex: :D

Here was the problem with Ezra. He didn't have the guts to do anything. He couldn't bring himself to tell anyone about his mom's drinking problem. He decided to trust his friend, not calling the cops. He would help bandage Thalia's wrists, never saying a word about her scars. He would listen to Cody as he dreamed about running away and being free.

Ezra could keep a secret way too well.

And even thought Ezra knew somewhere deep down some things needed to be said, he chose to stay quiet, silently hoping everything will get better soon.

✕✕✕

Another wave of nostalgia rushed over Ezra as he made his way through empty streets. The flashlight bathed the road that unfolded in front of him in a weak light, a pocketknife rested in his hand. It was a gift from Cody, though Ezra took it out from its hiding place only when he sneaked through the night. There wasn't really a reason to have it, since Ezra had no idea how to properly use such weapon, but something about the heaviness in his hand made him feel safer.