When Night Breaks

His eyes lit up brighter than the moon hanging high in the sky, casting shadows down onto my balcony. This stranger wasn’t so much of a stranger anymore. I knew deep in my heart that it took everything he had inside of him to tell me his story. I was still very curious about all the details, but I assumed those would come in time. I don’t think anyone had ever told him he was beautiful before. This to me seemed like quite a shame. His hair was dark brown, hanging shorter on the sides which led down to sideburns. The rest of his hair had a natural wave to it, suiting his face perfectly. His voice was smooth and had a rich, soothing timbre. He often times spoke low, but his voice held warmth. His skin was flawless, and had a deep tan tone that was full of silky smoothness. With an appealing jaw line and slight shadowy outline of a mustache and beard, his looks made his long deep scar almost unnoticeable. Almost. However, it was still there, starting on his forehead, leaving a mark in his eyebrow that had no hair, trailing down through his eye and onto his cheek. It was an old scar, but the time had not faded it. Another faint scar ran on the corner of his mouth, coming straight down from his bottom lip onto his chin.

Despite his imperfections, he was undeniably attractive. His features made him appear to be older and his eyes seemed to hold years of knowledge. It seemed as though his eyes had seen twice if not more the pain that normal people’s had. Twice the world, twice the adventures, and twice the tears. His eyes were so strange. In a beautiful way though. In the daytime they were the lightest, ice blue. But when the moon replaced the sun and the dusk broke, they changed. The blue faded away, and was traded for white. They were not scary to look at, because they still held a deep fire within them. However, it seemed the fire may have been dwindling away over the years of horror they must have seen. They reminded me of a quote from a book I read once.

“Have you ever read the book Shiver?” I asked him, assuming the answer would be no. I was right, when he said he had never heard of it.

“There’s a part in it that reminds me of you. A quote actually.”

“What is it?”

“ ‘You’re beautiful and sad, just like your eyes.’ I think you’re beautiful and sad, Jay. I can hear the sorrow in your voice, and see the anguish in your eyes. You know, I lost a brother too.”

He moved toward me just an inch or so, and placed his hand on my arm.

“I did not know that, I’m so sorry.”

“His name was Sawyer. He was my older brother, and I always looked up to him.” The grief over losing Sawyer had never stopped, and I knew it probably never would.

“It doesn’t get easier.” He said, as though he could read my mind. “What happened to him?”
I felt tears swell up and a knot form within my throat. I didn’t talk about Sawyer much, it was too painful. But I realized that Jay probably never spoke of Jeremy either, yet he suffered through to tell me his story.

“Sawyer was always a daredevil. He had a mischievous streak in him that ran a mile wide. I always thought he was invincible. No matter what he did, no matter how reckless, he always came out okay. My mom stayed a nervous wreck over him and all his foolish ideas. But one night, he didn’t make it out okay. It wasn’t his crazy driving, his attempt at MMA fighting, or even his bravery of heights. It was a woman.”

“A woman?”

“She took him from us that night.”

Jay’s eyes widened as mine overflowed with salty tears.

“She murdered him.” My voice cracked, as I uttered the words that were tinged with despair, “They had been dating a little while, but Sawyer wanted to break up. She couldn’t handle it, and so she shot him.”

“Oh my goodness.” He reached out to comfort me by placing his hand on mine which was resting on the balcony railing, but he backed away as if he was afraid of my reaction to his consolation.

“She’s in North Carolina’s Women’s Prison now serving 25 to life.” She didn’t receive the death penalty because she claimed self defense. Although the jury didn’t believe she was acting in self defense that night, they still believed her outlandish claims of domestic abuse at the hands of Sawyer. I turned around and looked at Jay, who was staring intently back at me.

“See, we have something in common after all.” I told him.

“Unfortunately it’s something tragic. How old were you when Sawyer passed?”

“I was 16. It’s crazy that it’s been 4 years. Feels like just yesterday.” I remember still the gut wrenching pain I felt the night the cops came and told us. Dad worked with the police department then, and it was a good friend of his that broke the news to us. He was just a patrol cop then, but soon got promoted to detective right after the trial. The sorrow came in flashbacks, although the pain never truly went away. I think Jay sensed the heartbreak that I was feeling; the heartbreak I was reliving in that moment.

“I think we have two things in common.”

“What’s that?” I asked him.

He took my hand, but this time didn’t retreat. He had the most empathetic look as his white eyes, with just the slightest tint of the ice blue pierced mine.

“You’re beautiful and sad, too.”

I looked downward at our interlocked hands and stroked his thumb with mine. I gave him a nod and stared back into his frosty eyes. With that, the night drew to an end as this mystery of a man told me goodnight, and swiftly leaped from my balcony and disappeared into the darkness of the city.