Light at Day's Dawn

I was aroused suddenly from sleep. The night was intensely dark and quiet. I felt that there was someone else in the room. I tried to switch on the light, but my wrist was seized……….

And at once I knew it was him.

The little moonlight that strayed in from somewhere made him look like the perfect sculpture ever. His eyes were down, with a deep touch of dismay. A long silence bore down between us, sometimes interrupted by the heavy rustle of grass. I kept staring at his face, and he fixed his gaze on the floor. His lips twitched a bit at the corners, and he finally began, “It’s hard for me to do this, terribly hard, but I’m persevering this time.” He let out a sigh.

Moving his eyes towards the edge of my bed, he couldn't withhold his chuckle, “You‘re reading this again?” He raised his brows. There, at the edge of my bed laid carelessly my torn legacy of “The Notebook.”
“Yeah.. Um, I jus- I just cannot go on without it.”

“It’s good that you think of going on.”

“Just trying to be a little Optimistic..” my voice broke at the last word.

“I think I should leave now. It’s almost dawn .”

He advanced towards the balcony, ready to leave. I couldn't help but say, “Are you coming back again?”

He turned to look at me, a heavy look of grief on his face.

“No” he said. And then he was nowhere.

I sat there on my bed, in dim moonlight, breathing in the scent he had left behind… The coming back of Soviets to power, achievements of the big ideas of the Czechs, the political disturbance at Budapest, today had caused my love, refugee from Communist Hungary, to come meet me for the last time. He had just announced his departure forever.
Silent tears rolled down my cheeks, and I looked at my wrist which had been under his hold a few minutes ago, the feelings still not very comprehensible. But there was one thing , which I was totally certain of now…

“No more hallucination. No more pills.”

-Natasha Ahmed