It was the hour of ghosts. And it was surreal, running with high heels on the empty street which boasted of so much life, just a little while back. The lights looked dim. And the shops were all closed. Cars whizzed past occasionally. The pitch roads were slick with rain, steaming a little. I don’t know what I was doing. It was a ridiculous night. A little drunk, a little insane. I was trying to feel the full force of being twenty. There was a bitter-sweet, happy-sad energy, pulsating through my veins… and I needed to be drunk, I needed to run…although why, I cannot tell.
Slow down, a couple of voices said. And I couldn’t, because I didn’t know where my legs were. And I had a notion that, I had probably fallen…but it didn’t hurt. I felt young and reckless, and the sky was so goddamn majestic, looming over this puny little street, this city, this earth, me. I felt small, but deliriously happy. A pair of tragic eyes met mine. Everything was so upside down at the moment. Get up, he said. So I let my body do whatever it wanted to do and I think it got up.
I was walking now, rested against another body. Oh what lovely designs everything made when we walked. I can do what I want, right? I asked. And those eyes just looked ahead patiently, waiting for the madness to recede. Oh please, c’mon, tell me, I’m super, right? And I didn’t really care for answers, because I floated effortlessly across the street, feeling super, super alright.
Will you tell my parents? I suddenly asked, feeling this horrible feeling at the pit of my stomach. Tell them what, the voice right next to me spoke. That I’m stupid? I said, feeling stinging tears roll down my face unannounced. I thought you were super, not stupid, the body that held me said. I’m just twenty, goddamn it, just twenty, I said unhappily.

My voice chimed in my head. I said things, but what I don’t know. It was like a sweet irritation, like a healing sprain, inside me. And I remember the police asking questions and whole lot of other crap, which is quite honestly a blur now. But there was no trouble as far as I can remember. Just an exchange of polite words and money.

Well, congratulations once again, some distant voices said. Yes, it was a great dinner, a great party. Can you drop me home? I asked. But I was standing all alone, and was so far away from that familiar, colourful street. There were no tragic eyes next to me. No happy bantering. No arms to steady me. I didn’t know where the hell I was. There was a door that I was leaning against. And it looked a lot like the one we had at home. But I couldn’t be sure. Heck, I had no goddamn clue.