Night Watch

This is an awful story I wrote in high school. I was quite proud of it then. Now I find it kind of laughable, but it did inspire my rather fabulous tattoo, and for that I am grateful.


She saw him ahead of her and ran, her bare feet barely touching the soft wet grass. She ran quickly, trying not to laugh, knowing that he could disappear at any moment. Her long hair flew in her face and she stopped to push it out of her eyes, gasping for breath. He was gone.

She collapsed on the ground and buried her face in her hands. Night after night she went through this. Night after night she saw him in the field and ran, wondering if she were crazy and laughing at herself. Even now she laughed through her frustrated tears.

It would be simple to write this off as insanity, to concede that this man didn't exist, and to sleep through a night for once. But she knew that she was not crazy; knew that he was real. She had spent a night with him once; he was warm, living, breathing, flesh and blood.

She remembered clearly that night. Summer, cool breeze, fragrant scent of flowers hovering in the air. The night had called to her; she couldn't sleep, so she had left her home and walked to the field. Halfway through she saw him, standing straight, erect, seemingly staring directly at her. Her first impulse was to run, but she was drawn forward to him. She stopped before him and their eyes met, until she turned hers away, flustered.

Burning with the awkward silence, inwardly wondering what she was doing, she forced her voice to be light. "Beautiful night, isn't it?" she asked politely, trying to meet his gaze again.

He nodded, staring through her with his intense brown eyes. "Beautiful. Out for a walk?"

She nodded. "I couldn't sleep." She felt a peculiar sense of reality shifting, of normality slipping, and for a fleeting moment wondered if this was a dream. Perhaps she was still in bed, had only dreamt of going for a walk, of meeting and speaking to this beautiful man.

He smiled, and somehow she felt he knew her thoughts and blushed, overwhelmed by a feeling of naked vulnerability. "I couldn't sleep either," he said wistfully. "Will you walk with me?"

No! she screamed inwardly, I have to go home! but she heard her voice say, "I guess so," nervous, yet rich with muffled excitement. He took her hand and she felt energy shoot through her body and again the strange, detached-from-life feeling. They began walking, and she had the sensation of not really moving, as if she were gliding, guided by his hand. They came to a tree illuminated by the moonlight, and he turned to her. She saw her own reflection in his eyes briefly before he kissed her, and then she knew for sure that this was a dream, for if this were real she wouldn't be kissing this strange man, would she? She wouldn't be allowing him to remove her clothing, to lower her onto the soft wet moonlight. Yes, its a dream, she decided, surrendering to the fantasy cloud surroundering her and the beautiful man beside her. Its all right; its just a dream.

The next morning she awoke in her bed. It was a dream after all, she realized, a beautiful, vivid dream. But still it felt real to her, and she revelled in the afterglow throughout her blurry routine of a day. And that night she gave into temptation and surrendered herself again to the night and the park.

It was again a beautiful night, so like the one before. But that was just a dream, she reminded herself sternly, and then she saw him. Her heart skipped a beat, her stomach plummeted. She breathed deeply, but although he had startled her with his presence she was not truly surprised to find out he was real; she had known that all along. She forced her legs to move toward him. He leaned against the tree, looking directly at her, and she was close enough to see that strange sadness in his eyes, to feel again the displaced feeling of not quite being alive. And then he disappeared.

It made no sense, she reflected from the ground where she had fallen, the moonlight reflecting the tears on her face. But that was how it had been, every night after the mysterious encounter and again tonight. Sometimes she would walk toward him, sometimes she would run, sometimes she would stand still across the park and watch him. But inevitably he would disappear, leaving no trace of his existence but for her memories of that sweet summer night. Always she would feel the awful frustration of having lost something she had never quite found. Then she would go home to sleep, as she did tonight, knowing that tomorrow would find her in the park again, repeating the pattern, reliving the dream that was no dream.

The next night she saw him again. Once again he stood at his tree; she started toward him as always, but then abruptly she stopped and called out. "Please...please don't go!"

"Stay there," he called out harshly.

"But..." she faltered.

"Stay!" he yelled, his voice echoing through the night. Startled, she could do nothing but obey, although she trembled at his approach. "Don't move." She wanted almost nothing more than to bolt from the park, but she had come this far; she had to stay now. He stopped before her, staring. His intense brown eyes burned into hers until she lowered them, but he forced her face up roughly. "Look at me." She did, depsite the fear rising within her. "What is it that you expect from me?"

"I don't know!" she cried, frightened and confused.

"Then why do you come here every night?" Beneath the anger on his face she could see a tinge of pain and was touched through her fear, wishing she could free him from whatever demons these were that tormented him. His hand under her chin burnt her skin but she found now that she couldn't move when she tried. She was paralyzed and he had all control.

"I don't know," she whispered through her tears.

He stared into her eyes, searching, and dropped his hand. "You really don't know, do you?" he said angrily, sadly, turning away. "You're playing in a world you know nothing about. How did you get here?"

"I don't understand what you mean," she stammered. He looked at her expressionlessly, and she felt she had to continue to speak, to fill the terrible, throbbing silence. "I was walking in the park and I saw you, and you took me in your arms...I thought it was a dream." She heard her voice echoing, high-pitched, almost shrieking, and wondered if she was crazy after all. "But then I say you again and chased you, and you always disappeared. You always disappeared!" She began to laugh, unable to quell the hysteria rising within her. "That's why I'm here! That's what I'm here for! Are you blind?" She stopped, and the sudden silence overwhelmed her, the word "blind" echoing in the night.

He shook his head and broke the silence thundering in her ears. "Blind? No. I'm not the one who is blind." He turned his face to the moonlight and walked to his tree, patting it lovingly. Abruptly he turend back to her. "You've dug your own grave. You should leave. Now."

"But I can't move!" she protested, and nor did she want to. She wanted to stay near him, drinking in the beauty of his presence. She wanted to free him from his troubles, to understand him, to feel what he felt.

"Is that really what you want?" he murmured, so softly she wasn't sure at all he had said it, and how could he read her mind like that? He didn't wait for an answer, but stepped back and said, "Then its too late."

She had a sudden sickeing feeling of the humanity being ripped from the core of her very being. Then a thick pain wrenched through her stomach andn she felt her legs join together, bonding as one. She sank into the ground and felt limbs growing, spreading, drinking in the soil as growths burst through her skin, spreading, blossoming, blooming upward, and the word "tree" raced through her mind as the transition completed itself.

Silence fell heavily again on the park. He smiled, but there was still a sadness in his eyes as he walked to this newest tree and leaned against it. The moonlight shifted to illuminate this tree, his tree, and he stood intense, erect, watching, waiting.

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