Across the sea, night flew. The citizens fell asleep, cautious and afraid. They knew what was coming. Night knew as well, and her worrisome lines on her face drew deeper into her face. At this time each night, all the citizens closed their eyes and held on tight to their sheets. Their breathing ceased along with their grips. The citizens died each night. Then in the morning, they were rebirthed and continued their lives as if nothing had happened. The citizens hated sleeping, but it was required. It was impossible to avoid. Night spread her sleep potion through the air; this was her job at the end of each day. It made the citizens drowsy and flimsy. So never could they avoid what was happening, try as the might. The death was painful and numbing, and Night felt sorrow each time when she bestowed the ugly gift on the people. She watched each morning as the sun’s fingers touched the sky and the citizens awoke, hollow and weak. No one could move until their muscles gained their old strength from the day before. So there they lay, until they found the courage to stand. Some never did, for eternal death was also existent. Some never did because they only had the energy to mourn the lost. It wasn’t possible to regain complete strength in only a day. Since they died each night, they were always weak because their strength and energy had no time to rebuild itself.
During the daylight, Night hung at the bottom of the Earth, watching her victims sleep- or die, rather. Night rained tears down upon the Earth as she watched because she knew it was her fault. The citizens knew it too. They hated Night with a strong passion, even though they had never met her. They didn’t know that she hated the pain they went through just as they did. Yet they would continue to hate her after they died. Their children would hate her as well, and their children. Night was extremely lonely. She wished at least one citizen loved her. At least one, she only needed someone to talk to. But every single citizen on Earth hated her as much as the others. It wasn’t a rule or required law; they simply did because of what she did to them. Maybe that’s what hurt the most to Night. Knowing that the citizens didn’t have to hate her, they all just did- purely. Never had Earth known a hate as strong as what they felt towards Night. Even so, she loved the people who hated her. Every single one of them. She admired their will and their feelings. She was astounded at the power one held to hurt another. Especially how easily they broke each other’s hearts, which was a common occurrence. She was disappointed at how thoughtlessly they discarded feelings for each other. The one thing Night craved so desperately, the citizens could care less about (as it seemed). Even though she didn’t understand why the people acted why they did, Night loved each one of them as strongly as they hated her. Sometimes this wasn’t enough, though.
She had tried many times to convince her God to take the pain away. He said each man should know his death before his time came. He never reasoned with her or compromised or even understood what the citizens were going through. He had never seen them like Night had. His bluntness angered Night, and at the end of one particular day, she decided to do something about it. She traveled far and wide, searching for something to ease the pain of her sleepers. She finally came across a colorful pool. In it were swirling, lively pictures of fictional scenarios. None of them made sense, and Night laughed at each one as they flew by her eyes. From that moment, she knew she had found her medicine for her weak citizens. She became eager to try out her new idea. Just as that idea arose, Night realized that it was almost time for sleep for her citizens, so she dipped a great glass into the pool and captured all the colorful images in her hand. Quickly she flew, mixing her sleep potion with the colorful images in the glass- so as not to poison the citizens with death anymore. She stirred and stirred until her fragile hands were blistered. Then once the time came, she poured the potion upon the land. Each person gripped the sheets with fear. But at the time when usually they were dead, they came across something lovelier. Their muscles relaxed as their eyes shut. But they didn’t become numb and they felt no pain. In deaths place lay swirling colorful images of fictional scenarios. Instead of dying, the citizens were dreaming. They were only asleep, not dead. Movies of giants and places far away played in their minds. Night hung at the bottom of the Earth, watching all of these movies. She laughed and her heart was content, knowing that the ones she loved felt no pain because dreaming had conquered death. When they awoke, they cried in joy. They eventually fell in love with Night for her compassion and Night was never lonely again. The citizens built up their strength and accomplished the things they never had the strength or energy to do. Night created dreams and never again did a man know death before his time came.