I'm Samantha and I love to skate. I also like to shake things up a bit

here is a very short story that I wrote tonight. It probably wont make a ton of sense to anyone, as it is just a fragment of a larger story that i've thought up over the past few years but never put to pen.




The only thing she ever believed in was the night and the music she could hear when night came. A familiar song drifted through the speakers, note by note caressing her mind. And in that moment she knew everything would be okay.

Some people live for a new day. Tomorrow. When everything would start a new, a time for new chances and new begining. But she wasn't like that. She never felt that way. She'd wake as the sun was falling deep into the dark pacific ocean. As she'd ready herself for her life, the last rays of light would slip away with the clouds and by the time she left home the moon shown bright.

"Why don't you believe in the light" he asked her once.

She looked at him, with a look of sadness that only a truly tormented person could hold.

"I may not believe in your light, but I believe in the light. Those lights." she told him, as she pointed out at the grid of the city lights from the balcony of her home. "Every one of those lights holds a life and I know I'm not alone. The light you believe in only reminds me I'm alone."

As much as she loved the night, she often secretly wished she could escape from the night for which she loved so much. The nights seemed endless. And what had once been a thrilling novelty had warn its way thin. But finding a way out of which you've grown to know, isn't always as easy as the wish for change. As not all change is good, practical or possible. And even when it is in face all three, it can be the hardest thing to obtain.

"Tonight I shall go see this band that I like preform." she told herself or a friend. More often than not she did. She always felt an epic high, as the first notes would start. Her feeling of joy would escalate as the songs grew faster and louder.

Certain bands that she would see would play soft beautiful songs, for which she loved. But these song would bring her sadness and longing. A longing for which she could never fulfill. A longing for that which she did not know she coveted. These were the songs she'd listen to when she sat alone, long as she'd sung along to "the taste of ink" at "4'oclock in the fucking morning", watching her beloved city lights fade and the sunrise. She'd listen to those songs afterwards, as she cried herself to sleep, with her thick curtains shutting out the first rays of sunlight.

"Why do you live in the night?" someone once asked her.

"The night is beautiful, as it is the only time you can see the light" she replied.