Night Lights
10pm. It’s the third night in a row of constant rain. Your friends have asked you to go out for a drink but you don’t really have the energy for it these days. Maybe it’s the rain, maybe it’s something else. Either way, you’ve made up some lame excuse and decided to spend the night sitting at your laptop, watching videos & movies, reading short stories. You’re in your bedroom with your light off and only your laptop illuminating your face. A halo of darkness surrounds your illuminator as your eyes adjust to its light. Then, sitting in bed, for a second you swear you see another light outside the window. Two, actually. A pair of yellow dots. They disappear before you turn to look. A neighbour? You think. They’ve all got kids and are usually knocked out by now, and the light seemed smaller than a distant window.
11pm. The rain’s started to pick up. And the wind. Even after putting headphones on, you still hear the gales outside. You begin to hear a tapping on the window. Tap, tap, tap. You assume it must be a branch but you only realise after it stops that there’s no trees by your window. Must be some rubbish picked up by the wind, you assume. Then you hear the tapping again. It’s faster this time. You stare out the window a little longer than before, lowering your laptop a bit to let your eyes adjust to the darkness. You see the lights again. Two yellow orbs, barely radiating light, appear in your window. Bigger than before, or maybe closer, but then they’re suddenly gone. Was it a refraction? You don’t know.
12am. Your headphones are louder now. You can barely hear the sound of the growing storm outside. Lightning strikes have flickered in the corner of your eye a number of times but you refuse to even glance in the direction of your window. Maybe it’s time to go to bed. You’re starting to scare yourself, and tucking your duvet under your toes isn’t making you feel as safe as it once did. The thought runs through your mind but is immediately halted by a dash of colour appearing in the corner of your eye. Yellow orbs. On instinct, you scream and throw your laptop to the side, jumping out of bed. You flick on your bedside lamp and wield a comb as your weapon of choice. The lamp on, you see what’s behind the window. It’s a cat. A black cat with yellow eyes. The cat’s soaked to the bone and begins to mew, pawing at the window. You let it in. It’s not yours, but you’re not a monster, you can’t just leave a defenceless creature on your window sill in the middle of a storm. With a few swift movements, you scoop it up in a towel, bundle it into a burrito and settle back in bed. You can look for its owner tomorrow.
Bedtime. You’re putting off sleeping. The cat gave you a fright and now it won’t stop giving you attention. It’s bundled up, nice and cosy in your arms, while you procrastinate more on your laptop. You stare at this blue and white screen, losing your eyes to its illumination as the storm begins to die. You smile at yourself, even give a little giggle. How could you be scared of a cat? It’s so warm and soft. Then you freeze. Your heart drops and you tear up. Over the edge of your laptop, past its engulfing light, you see another pair of yellow eyes staring at you. And with it, a smile.