Until the Sun Rises Ella Stabile

Until the Sun Rises

The house I grew up in had this wide, grand staircase facing the front door. It opened up into this loft area with bedrooms on each side. Mine was to the right, sitting on top of my father’s office. Whenever I looked out over the staircase’s railing, I always felt like a princess overlooking her kingdom.

That night, though, there were no castles, crowns, or royal duties. There was just me, and endless possibilities. The first thing I remembered was waking up in my bed. The room was warm and safe, my Ariel night light always pushed the dark away. Everything looked normal, I think. Regardless, everything seemed normal. Normal enough for me to get up, and out of bed like I always did. The only difference was when I walked out onto the grand loft, I didn’t see the late dawn light I was so used to whenever I woke up. I saw the dark night outside, stars glittering between the trees. There was this one tree off to the left, it looked like one of those dead trees they put outside the villain’s lair in kid’s cartoons.

I remember resting my hands on the railing that should have been much taller than me, but tonight, it only went up to my mid-stomach. Odd, but I didn’t think to question it. I stood there for a second, resting on the railing, just watching the night. I should have been afraid, I’d always been afraid of the dark, but not tonight. I felt safe. I felt peaceful. I felt more relaxed than I’d ever felt in my life. I shouldn’t have been, but I was and it somehow made sense.

Then I jumped. I don’t know what came over me or why I did it. It was like this split-second instinct had somehow surfaced from some long-lost life, shooting up from the depths of my memory. Jump.

It whispered in my ear, comforting yet commanding. It was the voice of some star-crossed friend, the kind of friend who’s earned your trust and respect through sheer force of will. It was an old friend. A friend who would never lead me astray. So I jumped.

But I didn’t fall.

I flew.

I glided towards the ground, feet brushing up against the cold stone as I landed. Slowly, as I processed what I’d just done, a big dopey grin spread across my face. I smiled so hard, my cheeks hurt despite the dream. I let out a sharp, excited laugh, then sprinted back up the stairs. I didn’t even hesitate before launching myself over the railing. Again, I glided down, slowing to a stop just in front of my front door. The second my feet touched the ground, I whipped around and ran up to glide down again, and again, and again, and again, and again until the sky turned pink and the sun began to peek out from behind the trees.

And then, just like that, the safety was gone. I ran up to launch myself off the railing one last time but stopped just a hair’s breadth from the edge. The sunlight was pushing the dark away, and along with it, any hope I had at recreating whatever magic I had used to fly. The comforting voice was gone, leaving nothing more than an empty void in its place.

As the sun rose, whatever doubtless faith I had in my magic slipped behind the horizon, joining the moon in wherever it goes to rest.