midnight.

Her soft black hair was scattered about her face. The moonlight acted as limelight and glistened in her half closed mysterious grey coloured irises , focused on my face. Her peach-pink lips slowly parted ways to reveal the top part of her brilliant dentines. In summary, she was still as stunning as before.

Was I in the middle of a horror movie or something??

There was a small blot of a reddish substance by the side of her forehead. Blood.

I had a hard time believing that I wasn't in a nightmare as slapping my face hard and pulling my newly trimmed hair didn't help in changing reality. What sort of sorcery did I find myself in?

I gripped the top of the bed slab and pulled the white linen bedsheets towards me, shivering as I tried to hide my bare chest.

Mi… Mi… Mi…Midnight?

It can't possibly be.

She looked like she'd been running again. Just like in midsummer five years ago. She was panting. Her black chiffon shirt was ruffled and her Cavani jean trousers had holes everywhere. The same brand she wore that night. There was brown dirt smeared all over her face and clothes.

I gripped the bed's brown headboard tightly, shivering and shaking, wanting to scream out my lungs but my mouth somehow forgot how to produce speech.

She staggered towards me, dropping pieces of brown mud on the red Turkish carpet.

Anxiety had consumed my whole being like an amoeba engulfing a bacteria and I froze— literally and metaphorically, both eyes were fixed on the intruder and my sense of hearing was heightened.

This was Midnight we're talking about, alright?

The quiet girl, who only talked when she was spoken to but wasn't at all weak. She was bold, brave and courageous. She inspired me and taught me a whole lot. She was the realest person I'd ever met and elegance followed her around like a dangling thread

But she was dead! Midnight was dead, wasn't she?!

Five years ago, the night she had entered my room uninvited, she was also disoriented, panting and covered in brown mud. She asked for something she'd never asked before.

Help.

Midnight asked for my help.

Like for real?

I wondered what sort of help she'd need from the lanky nerdy boy that followed her around, whom she protected from bullies like a shepherd with her sheep and who didn't have any self confidence to his name. I was that guy.

But after asking for help, she paused for a few minutes, as if she sensed something strange, before bolting out of my room. She didn't even stop to listen to whatever I'd been blabbing about at the time.

Then she went missing for some days. Her parents and siblings were worried sick about her but we tried searching for her and involving the police but there were no results.

Where did we not look? Which forest did we not comb? Who did we not call? When were we not on the look out? We offered rewards, pasted her face in every mall, street, bus stop.. name it. We followed leads like a housefly discovering a new light source but we always met dead ends, spiralling into despair and longing again.

Days turned into weeks, weeks into months and months into years and we weren't still able to find her. We lost all hope after the police found a body, matching the description of her in a lake with some of her personal belongings scattered around.

“Alex.”

I swallowed hard.

“Midnight?”

“Alex... I need your help.”

Then she collapsed.

She was asking for my help. Again? Is she haunting me? I didn't even get the chance to help her the other day.

She tried to speak again but suddenly fell to the ground. At that point, I realized that this was real and not some hallucination or haunting spree. I wasn't her enemy anyway, so why would she haunt me?

I rushed to her side and lifted her head slowly, holding it up against my thighs. She was indeed, real.

My Midnight.

I pressed my left ear to her chest, checking for a heartbeat. It was unusually slow and unsteady, probably due to lack of energy. She looked drained and truly she needed help. Medical intervention.

Throwing on a shirt, I lifted her by the waist, grabbed my phone and car keys, and bolted out. I dialed 911 as I laid her in the passenger seat. The operator stayed calm as I explained, then I drove like my life depended on it.

At the hospital, Midnight was rushed to the ER by five female nurses in blue scrubs and a male doctor in glasses, probably in his early forties, who was calmly dishing out instructions and reassuring me that she'll be fine.

As the ER door closed, I started to process all that happened. I balanced my back on the black metal frame chair, allowing the thoughts to flood my consciousness.

Midnight was really here. My Midnight.

Where had you been, middle of the night?

(Good she didn't hear that, cause I'd be lying next to Nefertiti’s body.)

So where had she been all these years? She missed out on many moments that I desperately wished she were here. She missed out on our high school graduation, prom, my twisted journey on self development, me finally starting a YouTube channel and meeting other content creators.

I wondered how she'd been surviving all these years? Did she have enough to eat? She looked skinny and unkempt so she surely didn't have enough to eat. How had she catered for her other needs? Was she kidnapped or was she in a fight with a gang or what?

However, things are on the bright side now. She would finally be reunited with her family. Nicole, Kendrick… they'd all love to see her again.

And most importantly, I missed her.

A lot.

It told on me and everyone around me could see that I became really depressed. I felt like a nobody among my peers at school and I stopped a lot of activities because I couldn't do it without her.

Along with that, my feelings for her ate me up, wishing for a miracle and the day we'd hang out again. Her prolonged absence deepened my feelings even further and I wasn't able to love anyone else as long as it wasn't her. She was the reason I had gained some self confidence, learned how to catch fish, swim, bully my bullies and eat chicken soup with chopsticks. She had no idea how much I respected her. There was no way I could replace her in my heart.

I was nicknamed the boring guy among my friends in uni since I didn't go out with anyone. I knew she didn't feel the same way even when she was still around but nevertheless, my heart remained her faithful Hachiko.

After hearing the news of her supposed death, my soul also died. I felt empty for months on end and I buried myself in work to compensate for the heavy feelings of grief and loneliness I couldn't brush off. It became a serious addiction. I worked for hours on end and could go on for days without speaking to another soul.

Back to the present, there I was, waiting on the girl I had waited for multiple times at a police station, hoping she'd return. I paused my thoughts and focused on my repetitive prayers. I didn't even know when I had started sobbing. A kind nurse passing by offered me some Kleenex. I dismissed her offer and kindly told her that I didn't need any.

Four hours passed, adding to my worries, wondering what sort of operation they were doing on her. At some point, I saw her parents, Mr and Mrs. Kleinhause approaching. They had masks of disbelief pasted on their faces that wore off when they got closer to the door of the operating room, where I was seated. Mrs. Kleinhause fell when she finally reached, overwhelmed and distraught. I held her wrinkling but ever beautiful face in my hands and reassured her that things would turn out for our good. She somehow believed me and sat beside me.

After a few hours of waiting and hoping, the door was finally opened and the head surgeon came out, informing us that she had internal bleeding in the left part of her brain and had some other serious injuries on both of her legs. Thankfully, they were successful in the operation, removing her from danger. He assured us that she'll be fine in the next few days and would go back to being normal in a couple of months, provided there were no psychological side effects.

One week later, Midnight was finally awake and we were allowed to visit her.

Her parents went in first and stayed for about an hour before inviting me inside. I went inside with my heart in my right hand, wondering what to expect. I got goosebumps all over and the air was tense. I was looking good, so there was no need to worry about my appearance. Not true. I crosschecked the arrangement of my grey polo shirt multiple times and ensured my hair was put together. It's Midnight for crying out loud, she wouldn't care, but I cared not.

On getting inside, she was sitting up and had a blank expression on her face. The bandage on her head and the green hospital dress she wore made her look soft and babyish, which made me chuckle a bit. Midnight never wore dresses except when we went to church.

She stared at me as I sat down on the plastic chair adjacent to the bed.

Hi.”

She didn’t answer.

I tried a joke. Gently touched her hand.

She flinched. Yanked away.

“Midnight?”

She stared.

Then, “Who are you?!”

My heart dropped.

“What?”

Midnight?

“Midnight, it's me. Your best friend. Alex… the one you came to meet the other day… night.”

She had somehow entered my apartment that night and now she didn't even remember who I was.

“Mom! Dad!” She called out in a loud voice which probably caused her head to ache. I moved closer to try comforting her but she yelled even further, making me move backwards.

Did she forget me… no, no, no. She had brain surgery?

Wait. No way it's amnesia.

I stood there in complete shock, finding it hard to soak in.

The next minute, she began laughing hysterically, bobbing up and down from the bed in excitement, which puzzled both her parents and me. After that episode, she began chanting Neymar's name and hailing him.

Huh?

She changed again and began sobbing. Seriously, sobbing. Midnight never cried in public. She only ever cried once, and that was when she was with me. Soon enough, she went back to questioning my identity and screaming loudly at me.

Midnight couldn't actually remember me! Worst thing ever. But it wasn't her fault. It was probably from the internal bleeding that she somehow survived.

Her mother left to call a doctor and her husband followed behind, probably to get something to refill our energy levels, leaving her in my care.

When they were out, she sat up and called to me, suddenly calm.

“Alex. Come closer.” Huh?

“I have to tell you something really important.”

Thanks for reading this post. Cheers.

Image by Pheladi Shai from Pixabay