"The clouds were crying." That's what she always said when it rained, "The clouds are crying." She was a strange child. The doctors said she had a condition, extreme sensitivity to ultra violet radiation. Her family could not afford a fancy suit for her. She stayed indoors in the daytime. Her playtime was in the moonlight. The city had to lift curfew for her. She liked to wear yellow, calling it the sunshine color. As she got older, as her parents got older, she was given more freedom to wander on her own. They could not keep up with her anymore.
A teenage girl, wandering the small town at all hours of the night, wearing her sunshine dress. She made very strange friends. They were scared of her at first. Scared of tainting her. Who was this little girl that wandered in the moonlight? Why wasn't she afraid to say hello?
She was their angel. She carried her own sunshine with her and gave to everybody who tried to hide. One by one all her friends would leave, learning to crave daylight again. Not all of her friends that left went to daylight but things can only get so dark within the limits of a small town.
Things became easier as she grew older. People her own age started wanting more of the nightlife. She was invited to all the local parties. She was a bit of a celebrity. By then she was a young lady. Not a beauty that would launch a thousand ships, but still a lovely girl. Her body would drive her old nighttime friends away. They had seen this little girl grow up, in her sunshine dress and bright eyes. They didn't like the thoughts they had. They were afraid to be around her. Not afraid enough to stop drinking, but afraid enough to leave.
She started wearing black. The nighttime wasn't as fun when she was alone. She didn't want to be noticed. Instead of wandering she would pick a patch of shadows and just sit there, watching the world. Sometimes she met other people hiding there, so she made new friends. She started wearing yellow again. She wanted them to be able to see her. She didn't want them to lose her in the shadows. They wouldn't let her in, not when she wore yellow. But she still knew they were there. She wouldn't leave. She would sit on the edges, talking to them. They wouldn't answer. Slowly they left, one by one, until one night she broke the border and wandered into an empty space. All that was left were little scraps of yellow. In silver thread they had left messages on them. "We went to the daylight, where you cannot follow." She wandered again. But the nighttime town was finally empty.
She was lonely. She decided to leave the moonlight too. She wanted to be with her friends. She waited, in bed, for the sunlight to come. Opening the door, she started running. It was hot, so hot. She never knew sunlight was so hot. She went to hide in shade, too far from home to go back. The sunlight was brighter than her sunshine dress, much brighter. Her dress never burned her; but neither did the sunshine. The doctors were lying. The nighttime didn't have a call to her anymore. She went to wander this new place. it was so different in the daytime.
It was a big place. She found all her old friends again but they couldn't recognize her. She was no longer their nighttime angel. So she lived her life.
She stayed up late one night. She turned off the lights and waited in the dark. She was scared. She went to her door and started running. She ran back. She couldn't stay in the nighttime anymore. The sun had scorched her brain. She was sensitive.
The end.
A catbox story.
Blame Zephronias