Walking at night

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Memoir  |  House: Booksie Classic
My thoughts when i walk the streets at night

Submitted: December 13, 2015

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Submitted: December 13, 2015

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I've walked down this path all my life, and yet it is new. Everything is quiet; the only thing I hear is the rhythm of my steps on the pavement. I hear a song in my head that matches that rhythm. These houses look different to me, the sun and its shadows aren’t in the right places; they are nowhere. This road is different, but I know it. Walking at night is scary. It seems like I don’t know this place, but I know where I’m going. Street lights appear every couple of blocks or so; they light up the street for some distance. Once you are in between two and under a tree perhaps, it’s truly dark. I really don’t like walking at night now that i'm afraid. The street light gives me hope, even though nothing has really changed. Do I hear someone? No. My mind is jumping to conclusions. My steps start to fade away. The wind blows and I hear it. I hear it run through the trees as the leaves shuffle; I hear it as it passes my face. I hear it in the distance waiting for it to take me with it to a place only the wind knows. The wind thins out and I hear my steps again. They are getting louder as I pay more attention to that sound and that sound only. I hear a gate close, I quickly turn my head to it and I see a figure. I don’t hear my steps anymore; my sight is focused on the figure. What are they doing? What is their life like? Do they have similar thoughts as me? I start hearing my steps again. What is stopping me from skipping down the street? No one is here to look at me strangely. Why am I so fascinated? Everything is different at night, including my thoughts. I don’t like it, I like it. I don’t know how to feel. I’m only a block away from home now. Should I walk a little slower? Yes. I want to bask myself in the darkness. My footsteps get slower and slower. I stop. I close my eyes. I listen. The only thing on my mind is the sound of night. I hear my blood being pumped. My breathing is deeper and deeper. I smell the fresh winter air and a shiver runs down my back. I stiffen up. I open my eyes rapidly and I take slow steps down the poorly lit path I know so well. I have learnt the ways of the night. The night knows the ways of me. I know what to feel now. I’m not afraid.


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