Under the Night Sky (ONE SHOT)

Under the Night Sky

It was raining and the sky was darkened to a color I often see. My irises might have dilated the moment I gazed upon the grand view as I sat on top of a mountain.

I can see the parts that were lighter and the parts that reminded me of hell. I chuckled. Why do I always recall the most haunting parts of my life? Why do I cling over the sorrows?

Ah.

I have never felt happiness.

It was all a constructed concept that humans created which believed once upon a time... when I was human. Still human.

Now, I'm an old stray who saw and heard too much. Yet my body remained soft and anew like flowers budding under a sunlit meadow. My mind is scarred but my skin was not.

When do I cross the path towards that thing they call afterlife?

Does it even exist?

Why can I not...?

A sudden crash from the distance was heard by my ever sharp ears.

It sounded... metallic. There's... screeching.

A horse is gasping its last breath.

A woman crying.

Voices of men.

I quickly looked at the direction of it which was a thousand miles away. My eyes zoomed in and saw everything.

Another death. Another soul. Another crosser.

Envy filled me.

I quickly stood up as I decided to absentmindedly go nearer to watch the chaos ensue. With a flck of  finger, I landed on a branch just above the road where it is happening.

Ah.

The carriage smells like oak and the linings were golden.

Nobility reeks with blood. I can almost taste it.

The men attacking were cladded in black.

My eyes observed as the last guard died and the noblewoman cried. She was at the entrance of the carriage, carrying a bundle of cloth.

"Help!"

Her eyes were filled with anger and sorrow.

The same eyes I look at on the river, on the sea, on the ocean, on ice.

It has the same intensity that I almost thought it was a mirror.

I sighed. Here I am again. Looking for myself from others.

A thousand years of rejecting what I see as is and a thousand more of being aware.

"Please!" she continued crying.

In my mind, it was just another crosser. They all have dfferent eyes but they are all the same.

I was then surprised when a different look fell on her tear-stricken face.

Ah.

Flashbacks of people I knew came to me.

They were the people who were scared of death and yet did something unthinkable.

She went back inside and briefly did something then she opened the door and embraced death.

The chaos was done.

Nothing remained except the little one.

I curiously walked towards the carriage, entered it, and took the human.

A little human with an ugly face, short legs and arms and lightness.

It did not cry but it lives.

I held it in my arms and sudden memories reminded me of the many children I held.

My brother.

My sister.

My employer's children.

Little dogs.

Little cats.

Ah. A being that cannot survive on its own.

I looked at its sleeping figure and stayed silent as I sat inside the carriage.

I hummed.

It started with a made up one until it turned into a melody I once heard.

The tiny hand held me back.

Emotions came crushing into me and only one stayed.

Envy.

This being is a crosser.

Might as well-

"Bah!" the baby spoke. The tiny eyes looked at me.

I flcked a finger and an apple appeared. I then slowly gave it to it. The tiny hands took it and stared.

There was no teeth.

I flicked another finger and a cup of water appeared.

The child took it and drank as I tilt it to its mouth.

The moon was the only source of light but my eyes were clear and I saw how its eyes wrinkled in delight.

A tiny smiling crosser.

Years went by and the tiny smiling crosser grew into a man.

It called me father.

When it was a child, it clung to me and learned from me as I sat and stared at the distance.

When it became older, it started to go away for a while and comes back with new things.

When it became a man, it started to go away for a long time and rarely comes back. His body was often full of scars.

When it became old, it no longer can come to me and so I stand from a distance and watched.

Some new little crossers clung onto him.

His eyes were looking outside, towards the mountain.

When the day came for him to cross, I went nearer, entered his room and sat by the bed.

His once tiny eyes were bigger but wrinkled.

They have the same gaze when I held him for the first time.

He couldn't talk anymore.

He couldn't stand.

And so his once tiny hands moved and held mine.

And just like that, he crossed.

A life was done.

It was raining and the sky was dark.

The moon was still there, lighting the inside of the room.

My eyes felt weird.

Ah.

Why do I feel this?

I liked to imagine that its soul crossed.

It safely did.

And I'm... happy.

So this is happiness...

Tears dropped on its old scarred face.