“As dark and as bleak as the night” I had to reread that line a few times before I could continue. The more I thought about it, the more it bothered me. Does everyone have such a negative opinion of the night? I couldn’t help but think of the nights I used to spend at the lake house. Back when I was a kid, I would spend nights out on a boat in the middle of the lake just escaping everything around me. One night in particular came to mind, it was the night before I took my first midterm. I was so nervous I couldn’t sleep. So I snuck out and stole my parents boat. I’ll never forget how beautiful it was that night: The moon reflected in the surface of the lake. It’s brilliant white almost blinding those who looked directly at it. The fullness of it made the moon look even brighter. Everyone always considers the night to be dark. But that’s not always true. On nights like that one, the moon and stars light up the sky. The stars shine so white they look like snow that will never fall. Most people know that the longer you sit in a dark room the more your eyes adjust and the easier it is to see. The same can be said for the night sky. It looks dark at first. But the longer you look the more you see. The closer you look you can see a very dark blue hue in the sky. Have you ever been deep sea fishing? You know as you get further in the ocean, as the water gets deeper and deeper. And as the water gets deeper, it changes in color. That stunning dark blue that you see when the water gets so deep you lose all hope of ever touching the bottom is the same blue that is reflected in the night sky. Then on some nights, it’s a solid black. It’s the black you see when you gaze into a void. Where you can’t see the ending, and you have no idea how far the void truly goes. But this particular void is broken up by millions of tiny crystals known as stars. I aced my midterms the next morning. But could never forget the pure beauty of what I had seen the night before. So the next time someone uses the phrase “as dark and bleak as the night” I want you to think of how misleading this statement truly is. Because the night is beautiful, and bright when you know how to look.

Wait how does this work again? Am I doing it right? Nope. Apparently not. Did anyone see that? Imma just do quick look around the room. Doesn’t look like anyone’s looking. Yep. Im in the clear. Score! Ok back to figuring this thing out.

So how does lunch work around here? Do we all break at the same time orrr is it like eat when you’re hungry? Mmm what’s he eating? Looks good.

Managers looking my way. SMILE. Totally know exactly what I’m doing and I’m not at all panicking. Can he tell I’m totally lost? I bet he can. Oh I’m so fired. He’s coming this way. What do I do?? Don’t pay attention. Don’t pay attention. Look busy. Look busy. I. Wait. Are you serious?!? His office is there. So close to me. Welp I’m in trouble.

Is that the time? Funny I thought it was the same time 30 minutes ago.

How many times can I glance at the clock before becoming suspicious?

Oh look at that! My shift is over. Hm real shame. Fight the urge to run. Uh oh coworkers coming over. Look away. Don’t make eye contact!

“Oh yeah! It was great meeting everybody! And I had such an amazing first day today!” “Oh you’re all going out after work?” “And I’m welcome to join? A great opportunity to get to know everyone?” Say no. Say no. Don’t say yes. Go home. Rest. Don’t see these people again. “I’d love to! I can’t wait!” Here we go.

(This is my first time writing something like this. I’m kinda new to writing, and wanted to branch out and try something different. Please share any feedback as I would love to improve my skills in whatever way I can!)

“Dear Ariel, You’re not supposed to know I exist. I’m definitely not supposed to be writing this to you. But I’m out of options. You’re my only hope. My world is falling apart. Everything has gone wrong. Please. I need your help! If you are willing to help, replace this note with one of your own. I’ll come pick it up. Please, we’re desperate! Love, Leira” This is the second note that’s found it’s way onto my dresser. I have no idea who this “Leira” person is, nor how she knows me by name. But I’m not a hero, and I have no skills to offer that would help her. I’m just a massage therapist. Why can’t I know who she is?? And why has she asked me for help? Why not the police, or the FBI?? These questions keep me up all night. They run through my head as I work with clients. They distract me as I eat dinner. I guess it’s time to respond. Maybe I’ll sleep some tonight if I write to her before bed.

“Dear Leira, whoever you are, Why have you contacted me? And how are you getting into my house when you leave me notes? I have a lot of questions for you, can we meet face to face? I’m sorry your life is falling apart. But I don’t know you, and I don’t understand why you think I can help you! Maybe if you explained the situation, we could work together to find a solution. We could get the police involved if needed! Please I need answers! From Ariel”

The note was gone when I awoke. And another had taken its place. A chill went through me. She was in my house. She got in while I was there, sleeping, and left the note. I slept through the whole thing. Trembling, I picked up the note and began to read.

“Dear Ariel, You’re right. You don’t know me. But I know you. I’ve known you since you were three years old. I’ve watched you over the years. There have been so many times where I wished I could reach out and comfort you when you cried. But you couldn’t know about me, so I kept my distance. Oh I used to have the greatest time watching you and your friends play dress up. I always wished I could join in. But enough about that. I’ll tell you a few things about myself so you feel more comfortable helping me. Did you know we’re the same age? You could almost say we grew up together. I work as my worlds version of a physical therapist. And that’s the other thing about me when I said my world was falling apart, I didn’t mean just my life. I meant my whole world. I’m not from the same world you are. And my world needs help. Love, Leira”

I couldn’t breathe. I just sat there unblinking. There was so much to process. So many things to work through. I apparently have had a stalker for most of my life. Said stalker is apparently an alien, and somehow we’re the same age. What do I do? Do I call the police?? How do I explain this? I glanced at my reflection in the mirror, and laughed hysterically. “I mean seriously, what do I do??” I asked out loud. “What you think is right.” I responded. Wait I didn’t say that. But the mirror made it look like I did. And I heard it. “I know this is confusing. But I can explain.” That’s about when I passed out.

It was a dream. That’s all. Just a really weird dream. I slowly got up off the floor. “Ariel! Are you alright??” I just stared. My own reflection was asking if I was alright! “Don’t pass out again, please, let me explain!” “Who are you? And how are you talking? Wait no, why is my mirror talking to me?!? What’s going on???” “My name is Leira. And I am you but in another universe. When your parents bought you this dresser when you were three years old, it opened a gateway into my universe. My world connects to yours in a way that allows me to see what goes on in your life. But until now, you could never see into mine. I’m running out of time. It’s hard to explain. But my world is on the verge of collapse, and I need your help!” I felt crazy, and I knew I had to be insane. But I also felt the need to help. I looked into the mirror, and smiled. “What do you need me to do?”

“She giggled as he pushed a lock of golden hair behind her ear. They had savored each bite of the picnic relishing in the time alone with one another. He uncovered dessert along with a surprise. Her radiant face lit up when she saw the diamond ring. He hesitantly asked the big question, but her answer was obvious by the squealing and hugging that followed. And the two lived happily ever after. The end.” Wait! That can’t be the end. The scene needs to fade into the end. The narrator rolled his eyes, and scribbled out the last two sentences. He began to rewrite his ending: “He hesitantly asked the big question, but her answer was obvious by the squealing and hugging that followed. The two collapsed into an embrace, and began whispering sweet nothings into one another’s ear. And there they stayed for the rest of the afternoon. Content to plan the big day, and live happily ever after! The end!” There! That’s better! The narrator was already excited to write all about the wedding in the sequel.

“Is he still there?” She asked as soon as they fell to the ground. “He’s been there the whole time. Writing in that book of his!” He replied. She had seen the warning note when he presented the store bought cake, and understood immediately what roles they must play next. They had been undercover for weeks trying to get this stalker into the open. He called himself “The Narrator.” He would stalk his victims for a month, writing love stories about every detail in their lives, then recite the stories back to them on a tape recording sent to their house. A lady ran by with her dog, subtly flashing the ready sign. They made eye contact with the man reading a newspaper on the bench. It was time. “Freeze! FBI!” Suddenly the park was flooded with agents. Every “citizen” had their weapon drawn, and the two agents stood from their picnic and smiled as “The Narrator” was taken away in handcuffs. Another job well done! The end!

Then it begins. The battle they’ve been preparing for for months has arrived. Soldiers on either side draw their swords as their kings ride back with the cry of battle on their lips. Then it begins. Generals call out to their armies to fire. Soldiers hidden in their forts raise their guns to the opposing side. War rages on. Then it begins. Politicians on either side of the courtroom yell, both insisting their way is the best and only way. Their army of lawyers ready to back them up. The country divided, arguing over who could lead them better. They battle safely hidden behind slips of paper, and screens.

Then it continues. Screams ring out as the dead and wounded are found on the battlefield. People cry out as their lives are forever changed due to the outcome of the war. Half the country celebrates, while the other half begins to fear the future.

Then it ends. Poets, writers, and historians begin to document what has occurred. Children will learn about this day, and will reflect on it for years.

Then the cycle begins again.