Children of the Night

Part 5- Hold On Till May

Phil's P.O.V

Darkness is waking up. I watch as the first yellow rays of light start clawing their way upwards. Streaks of red and pink colour the sky, it's my favorite time of day. 

I watch the world every day as the dead of night subsides and light and warmth cover the grass, cover the leaves of every tree, how night flees and a new day is here. As a ghost, I cannot sleep. Another one of deaths unspoken rules.

There are so many rules of life and death in this world. Even when I was alive I loathed it. Not only societies pathetic rules of what to wear and how to think. Not that I ever obeyed those. Just the simple rules of life. You had to eat. Had to think. Had to breathe

I thought by breaking those rules and ending my life I would be finally free. But even death has rules, so, so many rules.

The first days after my life ended I was all so happy. I ran through the streets, through the crowds of people, singing, screaming at the top of my lungs, enjoying the fact that no one could hear or see me. I yelled at peoples faces, called them all the names they called me when I was alive.

But after a few days it all became routine. It all became dull and grey.

It wasn't really so different to being alive, back then nobody took much notice of me either of course. But sometimes there were just little things I missed.

Like feeling my chest rise and fall regularly. The beat of my heart, strong and warm in my chest telling me I was alive.

But most of all I miss sleeping. I miss dreaming.

They say afterlife is like a never-ending dream. But for me afterlife hasn't really begun yet. I'm somewhere in-between. At least now I have enough time to think. 

My life is better than it was when my heart kept beating scarlet through my veins. I just wish I could finally go on. 

The sun has risen quite a bit by now, sunlight spilling through peoples windows, illuminating houses and apartments alike. London is about to awake.

To me it's all the same. The last what? 360 days maybe. All the same.

All 360 days apart from one. Number 359. Yesterday. Yesterday I found the boy with the chocolate brown eyes. The floppy haircut. The scars.

He kept reappearing in my thoughts. His slender hands on the piano, his soft voice as he sung the sad melody. But most of all his eyes. 

The pools of brown that held more emotion than a Shakespeare play. 

The hope within so genuine, so pure. The disappointment that caused my stomach to clench up painfully. The frustration. The tears. I could loose myself in those eyes. 

But I did the right thing. I left. That was private. I could've done nothing.

He's a broken boy, just like me, impossible for others to understand.

I get to my feet, stretching my arms and neck, stiff from lack of movement in the past few hours. I just stand there, admiring the cloudless sky, the sun shining bright and warm. The first warm day in months, and a typical cliche beautiful day. I sigh. I have always preferred the rain. Days spent curled up on my sofa, listening to the rain pounding on the roof above, completely absorbed in one of my many books. It was one of the only things I really enjoyed when I was alive. Reading. 

I spent my time roaming Hogwarts grounds, fighting with Katniss in that scary Arena and exploring a world of elves and dwarves in middle earth. I cried with Eponine on that fateful day in France, I rode Falkor's back through Fantasia and I solved mysteries with Sherlock and Watson. I could loose myself so easily in the words of others, entering worlds, stories, memories, anything to escape my own dull life.