Starry Night

An excerpt from a book I'll never write...

Genre: fantasy

I had lost track of time. The moon shined upon me from beneath the beaming clouds. I looked up as the warm summer breeze hit my face, and rattled my hair. The twinkling stars stood high above me, in a world far, far away. I stood up from the bench I was sitting on and walked away, as the starry night sky and the empty streets of Islamabad stared at me.

My stroll was disturbed by an eerie thud which came from behind me. I looked back and to my short-termed relief found nothing. Just as I started walking again, the sound rang in my ears for the second time – this time louder and clearer than before. As I turned around, I saw a shadowy figure thumping towards me, its size growing with each step it took.

My hand immediately found its way towards the back pocket of my jeans, and my fingers rolled around the cold metal of my dagger, which I kept around just in case. When the figure was just a few steps away, I threw the dagger at it and saw as it passed right through the figure, landing onto the ground, producing a loud clanking noise. I tensed as horror flooded my veins.

The figure was now in front of me. I thought of different strategies to save my life, as I tried figuring out what the mysterious figure in front of me was. It had two large gleaming holes instead of a normal pair of eyes, with no nose, and a thin, straight line for lips. It wore a long, black cloak which dissolved into its surrounding. The figure was floating in the air. As its cloaked arm started to move, yanking towards me, I closed my eyes, with no hope of escaping my death. A few minutes passed. Nothing moved. It felt as if the whole world had stopped. The silence was so loud that I could hear my heartbeat. Lub dub. I slowly opened my eyes. A low gasp escaped my mouth.

What stood in front of me was not the shadowy figure, but a strikingly attractive young gentleman, with eyes brown and sweet like a jar of honey, he grinned like a Cheshire cat as his curly hair fell over his chocolate colored eyes which shone like pearls under the dim street light.

“Hey…” he said, and I was knocked back into my senses.

“Who are you?” I asked.

“Your savior” His contagious smile broadened. “My friends call me Yahya. What do your friends call you? I mean if you have any… I wouldn’t be surprised if you don’t.” He laughed softly.

My cheeks burned. “Amara” I answered.