Walk in the light: Legend novella

June (12)

June

0326 hours, August 3rd

Ruby sector, Los Angeles

69° F indoors

I was woken by the sound of someone's knuckles rapping against the balcony glass.

I checked the clock, dark blue numbers inside the polished oak of my headboard displayed the time as 03:27 and my sleep-bound mind started to clear.

The tapping sound started again.

Who would be here at this time?

Who would even be out at three in the morning? It was one of the hours where the city was almost asleep, as a city such as Los Angeles was never in total inactivity. But tonight there was also a heavy thunderstorm, and the nonexistent delay in time between the rod of brilliant light and the amplified roar that came with the flash told me instantly that the nasty weather was right over my head. The roars of thunder were bouncing off the walls of nearby buildings, amplifying the effect of the already brain-rattling sound.

I could also hear the heavy, constant clattering of fat raindrops hitting the few walls of my apartment that were exposed to outside. It had been almost half a minute since I heard the last series of knocks. The rain droned on while I lay in bed, my senses on high alert. I was still waiting for my eyes to adjust to the darkness, sweeping them around the room for any movement. My ears were working overtime, trying to hear anything out of the ordinary. But if there were any sounds, the rumble of thunder and water that poured out of the sky covered the noises.

Fifty seconds and still no other knock. I was beginning to wonder if it was just my mind who conjured up the sound. Just as I was about to forget it all together, dismissing the whole scene as a false alarm, I heard very faintly, someone calling my name.

And there could be no mistake as to who's voice it was.

**********

I sat bolt upright at the sound of the voice.

It was unmistakable where the call of my name had come from, it could only be the doors to the balcony of my bedroom. The doors were set to the right wall, a dozen meters away, so that no one looking on could see the bed or its occupants.

Lightning flashed again, the light traveled through the glass doors of the balcony, throwing dark shadows on the furniture in the room. With that flash of light also came the elongated shadow of a man that spread across the stark white carpet. In the minute interval of illumination I determined that he held no weapon, was not in an offensive or defensive stance.

He was not here to harm me.

My feet carried me towards the doors, now I was in full view of the person on the deck. When the light flashed again I saw the silhouette of him and through the shadows I made out his brilliant blue eyes, they were fixed on me. He had his hands up against the glass and stepped away from the panel as I slid the doors open. We stood, staring at each other, the silence filled in by the pounding rain before I beckoned him inside.

*********

After he had blow-dried his clothes and moped himself up with some of my stark white, now soaked towels, he found me sitting on my bed, waiting for him.

I made sure my stance was casual, to not close the door on any conversation. Secretly, I debated wether I should check my own reflection as it was the middle of the night. But I pushed those petty thoughts down. Besides, I knew he came here to talk.

I noted his hesitation at the doorway, then my eyes trailed him as he sat on the corner of the bed, feeling his weight dip down on the mattress. He took a deep breath.

He spoke one simple word.

"Why?"

I jumped to the only meaning I could think of, which was the question: Why did you kill my family?

"I didn't mean to," I whispered, I seemingly have lost my voice. "I'm sorry that they died, I told you I would never forgive myself. I never wanted them to get hurt, it was never on any scale intentional. I didn't mean to bring you so much pain and so much sorrow. There is nothing more I can say."

Day shook his head.

I filled with despair, he clearly didn't take my answer, as I never even gave him a reason. But no reason would have been a valid one.

He saw through my hidden emotions and finally shook his head again.

"No," He spoke gently, smiling sadly at himself with the reminder of the tragedy. "I know. I got that. But that wasn't my question." His gaze was locked on mine. His eyes seemed to be staring into my soul. And I wondered, for the millionth time in this pre-dawn morning, if this was merely a dream. After all, how could he possibly not me shouting at me after knowing the truth? I realized that he had changed so much from the teenager my mind's eye knew him as.

I frowned in confusion, "Then what was your question?" My heart missed a beat at his answer, it was one question that I had never thought he would ask.

"Why, June, did you leave?"