Author's Note: I have finished six chapters of this story, but for the sake of my sanity, I'll be posting them one by one, probably one per week. This piece of work is going to be finished and I would appreciate all comments and reviews to keep me going. City Lights is probably going to be fifteen chapters long and may or may not end up as part of a trilogy.
Disclaimer: No, just no. I don't own them.
I hear his voice sometimes in the darkness when I'm alone and the lights are all out. It happens in my dreams, and I never remember what they mean.
I don't understand him; he is never here when I wake and never gone when I sleep. What is it? What is he? From what realm of secrets?
It drags me in…step by step, closer and closer to that edge. He pulls me in like a puppet and I can't resist. He sometimes
Leaves me a gift at my bedside, a rose that never withers and dies, an apple of the deepest red, a thorn to prick
Myself upon. I get the feeling that he knows everything about me, that he has memorized my face
And scent, my past and my future. I am a book to him at night, the moon his light with
Which to read me as he will when I cannot see him and the darkness swallows
Up my voice. Where are you, my shadow? What is your story?
You who sleeps by me without once showing me
Your face. Who are you?
And what have
You done to