The Weight of the Night

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 The Weight of the Night


Dusk came quick and now the night has come to bang on Aura's door. Still, eerie, mocking. At night, the mask falls off and the heavy reality of what is her life, comes showering jeers and picking jabs at her mind, her thoughts. The overthinking, God, please stop.

The bills are due again, they don't ever let Aura breathe, and in that whirlpool of energy, she sits slouched, and sighs. This was a far stretch from the life she dreamed of and so she falls hard on herself, bangs the misery drums and now the blame just leads to guilt, which leads to disgust, and now she is wrenching in anguish. Twisted thoughts, heartwrencching sighs, how can she ever get through this.
The ticking of the clock laughs at her sorrow in the nighttime. It deliberately slows down to make her feel the wrath of all her bad decisions that create the illusion that she's got it all figured out. One hour, now two, not on single ounce of comfort in sight.

The crickets joined in on the mockery too, relentless. Their never ending cries signaled her own eyes to water and in the still of the night, Aura weeps waterfalls. Overwhelmed, under-appreciated, no friendships, she feels her loneliness grapple at the reins of her throat, a tight chokehold.

The reflection in the mirror caught her and she gasped and that little piece of paper she had stuck in it's corners years ago comes flapping with the encouragement of the wind. And behold, it sweeps off from the corner of the mirror and lands between her wobbly feet.

Aura is struck. Not by grief this time but by the most timely reminder written on the paper in bold that reads "This too shall pass". She wrote this years ago after reading a book she came across. Now standing here, holding the fragile piece of paper, she found courageous and immense strength. Out of the darkness, comes light. After this night, comes the day.

She whispers "persist", wipes her tears, takes in a deep breath and wishes the night, goodnight. 

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