August 23, 2017 by Patrick Starks
(Episode III to Night Light)
It was one of the wettest days of New York, Night was drenched and now even more eager to find his sister as the storms worsened. “The hell am I doing here, what the hell is Ada doing here?” Night thought, but he would come to realize that what he perceived as evil was not evil to others—that what he saw as sins, were not the sins of others, not the sins of his father.
Impacted by the weather that would take place, Night began to sneeze and shiver. He regretted giving the woman he’d met his coat; however, he wasn’t a dick—but had a grinned for that he knew he had one. As he approached the downtown area known as Manhattan, he began to feel more within his element, within his past. Everything that he once experienced was now brighter—it had more life, he felt. And by all the life that surrounded him, Night became even more energized as he came closer to the lights that laid against the path he walked. Although, amongst all that was around him, he felt an energy greater than his own—his arms, his legs began to wobble—it seemed they would lose their confident ground just by the feeling of such gift, gift that one anonymously would have.
After a bit of walking, he’d stumble upon a crowd of what he believed to be demons, or at least people who were possessed, the same he’d met in the ally before—although being a fucking pervert wasn’t much of a possession, but a sickness of true evil.
The crowd as well had an energy, an energy of the gods, Night thought, but it wasn’t quite what he’d felt before. And as he embraced all that was around him he became the opposite—paranoid, claustrophobic. He’d never been through such a massive crowd—his village was small, and only consisted of three hundred and twenty-two people. And as he worked his way to the middle people became aggravated. “Da hell man! Watch, watch where fucking you’re going!” a man yelled. “Sorry, excuse me,” Night replied. But as the lights danced bright, the people around him did as well, as all the sweat and heat from their bodies flew into his precious eyes, and sadly his precious mouth.
“Oh, your cute, although you don’t dance all that great. But don’t be shy, show your Mamacita what you can do papi.” Night said nothing, just stood awkwardly as the crowd circled around him like a merry-go-round—he’d become dizzy, slightly nauseous by the experience, nearly vomiting in the woman’s mouth as she laughed with and smiled with her mouth wide open. The woman known as Mamacita he thought, was now grinding against his privates like teeth of a frustrated man. He’d never felt such sensation, such a pleasure through the skirt he worn, that in which woman thought it to be. Unfortunately, they weren’t naked, it be a different type of dance if it were.
His palms became sweaty, his breath became heavy, the woman was extremely sexy and for that he was ready. Her hair, even the smell of her neck brought memory of his favorite candy of the village—he was eager to give it a taste. “Do you want to taste me papi?” the woman asked, but through all the distraction that lied wasted in front of him, there she was—Ada.
Ada looked the same as he remembered, but he knew mentally she wasn’t the same person, the little girl that use to follow him around the village. But no… Ada appeared to have become her own leader, and Night was to be in the middle of her tribe. And as he gazed through the crowd he could see the energy that made him wobble was hers—her light was bright, brighter than his. Night was confused, after all he was the chosen one, he thought, but on the other hand they were twins—he knew that this was no mistake. He was happy, proud of his sister, but knew sooner or later that she needed to be back home.
The crowd started to chant her name, but it wasn’t hers he told himself. It came to Night that not only would his sister abandon the village, but abandoned the very identity they’d given her. He was hurt, however he ignored the pain, all he wanted was his other half back, his other half of his heart, the missing piece to the full potential of his light.
“Ada!” Night yelled, the entire crowd stopped, all that remained of movement was just the two of them. She looked towards the path that was shouted, and developed a distilled expression, an expression of disappointment, Night would assume. Instantly he would find that it was no assumption at all, as he watched the back of his sisters head fade from the light. The music would begin to play again, and everyone dance to the vibrations once more. Night tried to pursue, but appeared to be held by the balls by Mamacita, literally.
“Where you going baby, I’m not done wit chyou,” she said, but Night pushed away, he ask the woman where he could find Ada. “Oh, so you like em young… Okay papi, I get it. Just don’t come running back to senora when she brakes your itty-bitty heart,” she said, but all that present itself was silence. “O dios mio! You can find your little senorita, and yes I said senorita, not senora, in Brooklyn,” she aggravatedly replied. Being the gentleman that he was, Night would give Mamacita a kiss on the forehead for helping, and more so for the memorable dance his virginity would never forget—she smiled and pulled in for a real kiss.
As Night departed from what he was told was now his girlfriend, made his way to the end of the crowd, he found a note—he could tell by the handwriting it was Ada’s, the one clue he needed, that he wanted.
“I finally achieved all that I wanted, but still run around flaunted. I wish I could go back to the place that was, but it’s been too long, not one message, not a buzz. If you could see what am, what I’ve become, you’d wish you had no sister, no twin, not one. I’m sorry that I flee, for this is now me, do as wish brother, but please leave—this I hope you can promise me.”
Tears ran down Nights face, and with each tear came a light—popping like fireworks as they hit the ground, scaring off anyone that was around him. The cops would eventually make their presence known, but by all the anger, frustration Night had within, he would display something different, no light, nothing he’d ever shown.
TO BE CONTINUE…