twisted

I don’t know what it is…

We just sit on the stairs, outside, in the darkness. No one speaks. Rain. It is a gentle, silent rain like in autumn; still summer though…

Inside, the party is in full swing. Laughing, music and shattering glass. Next to me she moves suddenly. The ice cubes clinks in her glass. I still have liquor left in mine.

„You know“, she states, letting her voice slip away into the blue. „You know, I’m different.“ I wait if she throws a meaningful look at me, but she doesn’t.

I stare at her silhouette, trying to spot the thing that isn’t right. Feels like… Don’t know. She is weird. Definitely. She talks with an accent I don’t know where to put…

Besides, who else would prefer the chill outside over a party? Who cares? Something about her face catches me, in first place. I think it is her eyes. She keeps them casted down. But from time to time, she seems to forget it, and I catch a glimpse.

She has unusually bright yellow eyes, glowing with a soft golden light. As if there is a lit candle in the depth of her scull.

„I’m a foreigner.“ She says in a flat tone. This time she looks at me. „You should not be here. With me.“ Her eyes darken. „Leave! They come to pick me up.“