Nightfall

Callie Toppozini

Deep in the forest, where the moon only scarcely reached and the mud stuck to your boots, stood a girl holding a gift. In that little box was a flower. Its roots were torn apart and it lacked water. Even in its death, the flower shone. 

The girl had received her small invitation through the mail. It read she was to attend a midnight garden party. The girl had chosen her best clothes and waded through the dusk with anticipation. Her heart led out before her. She wore it as an accessory. 

As the girl got closer, even with the thorns pricking her sides and her hair a ratty disaster, she heard the lively music and could see the lights coming in through the trees and bushes. It seemed to be surreal. She could be dreaming. She did not know. It looked like something from a fairytale, with strung lights in the leaves and tables of mouth-watering food. Even the pitchers filled with punch seemed to glint in the moonlight.

The partygoers were lost in the music. They danced, and so did she until her feet ached. The gift she had brought was forgotten. 

The stars hit her face in such a peculiar way, she seemed to be glowing. They danced around her visage just as her feet parted and jumped and ran. The gleam was one of an angel. She had grown wings and became aerial. She soared into the night, catching glimpses from those around her. They too, had grown wings. 

She drank, conversed, and sang. She feared she might never leave. Her wings protruded almost painfully, reminding her it would all be forgotten when the sun rose. 

The time came, and she walked away. She pleaded to the moon for the evening to not run away from her, but the moon did not oblige. The girl cried as she did as a child. Her grass-stained knees were still there. 

She walked home with memories enough for a lifetime. Daybreak stung her back like a thousand needles. She wrote a letter:

Dear partygoer,

Meet me where the moon does not shine, and perhaps our memories will overlap and we’ll be okay. Please do not be a stranger. I enjoyed drinking punch with you, and I hope to see you in the starlight. I still have hundreds of dances left in me to spend with you. 

Against her will, it disappeared, just as all things do. The sun rose, and she woke up, ate her breakfast, and lived just as she had the night before.

–

Callie Toppozini will be entering her junior year of high school in the fall, and was born and raised in Eastern Ontario. She is currently still living there. From an early age, she wrote small stories, which is where her adoration for writing grew. As well as writing, she loves to read, and spends most of her free time doing so.