This is Just a sample of my writing, its a few years old but is still one of my favorites.
The Release of Night and Day
There were two of them, as different as night and day. Day was blond, beautiful and probably spent more money on fake-bake tanning then a normal person did on groceries in a year. Not that she had the money to spend. She lived somewhere in between Coldwater and Bronson Michigan, but every weekend she and her hoards of followers would go to Battle creek or Kalamazoo, which they thought to be huge cities. Everything she wore was pink down to the nail polish. Day found that the company of kids she met while clubbing in Kalamazoo suited her better than the hicks that she drug around from place to place.
The other of the two, Night, was pale. She avoided the sunlight and kept her hair as dark as black silk. Night had never been far from her home or school but she read about places that she would rather be than where she was. Her wardrobe of black and red didn’t fit in with the flannel and blue jeans any better then her sister did. Night had no friends, she preferred to sit alone with a book and watch the steam in back of the torn down farm house her sister, mother and she called home.
Night and Day did not speak. At school, in the car, or at the dinner table. Day talked a lot, rarely did she cease to take a breath, but she never said the things she wanted to. She’s often screamed at her mother, “she’s ruining my life! Do you know how it looks to have a sister that’s a total reject?” When what she really wanted to say was, “I love you Nightingale why don’t you ever look at me?” But Day would never address her sister directly. It was to belittling.
Night, on the other hand, did not speak at all. She did not speak to anyone, ever. If she did, she probably would have told her sister how lonely she felt and how much she missed her best friend. Instead she immersed herself in novels and when that was not enough of a escape she would write on her arm with a razor blade.
Night was still, she would sit for hours by the stream and only think of where it could take her. As much as she wanted to be different she wanted to fit in and yet she’d given up wanting all together. In some ways Night knew that she would never leave this place. She felt that as long as she lived she would be here in this little town with people that didn’t understand her.
Day escaped her pain by slipping into the back with one of the boys she knew from the clubs. She would sigh as he touched her butt or breasts. His name didn’t matter. There were so many she used to get want she wanted. “Dayla,” he would whisper before jamming his tongue down her throat and unbuttoning her jeans. She had escaped for the time being.
Sometimes after that moment Day would think of her sister. How different they were. Day doubted that Night had ever been with a boy. What did she do to escape the pain their father had left behind in his stead?
One night after Day had broken curfew again her mother intercepted her at the door. Night was outside on the porch reading by candle light. After getting reprimanded and grounded Day went into another screaming fit. This time it was enough she shake Night’s darkness. Day was screaming at her mother but what she was saying was not directed at her, as always. Day screamed, “she walks around here like she’s already dead and I’m getting in trouble. So I went out big deal! I’m not the one who should be punished! If you knew how she deals with her shit you’d never yell at me again.” This time Day looked into the eyes of the one she blamed for all of her problems. This time Night let her guard down and heard her sister, her twin.
Day did not wait one hour after their mother had given up the fight to sneak out of the house again. But before she stepped out their window she turned to look at Night asleep in her bed. Day wanted Night to die. How could she live with this so well? More than that Day wanted her guilt go away. She wanted to tell her sister that she was sorry and that she hadn’t meant what she’d said earlier. Instead she whispered, “I hate you.” and left.
Unwanted tears filled Night’s eyes. Why did she have to love her sister so much? But if that’s the way Day really felt about her then what more did she need to live for. Night walked to the kitchen for a bigger knife. A razor blade just wouldn’t do. Under the stars Night walked. Her light skin glowed in the moonlight but nothing else could be seen. Night reached the river and stood still, soaking in the peace of the release. Tonight Night didn’t bother with the little marks.
Day still felt guilty when she reached his house. The Hicksville ‘hims’ worked on a whim but weren‘t her preference. This him lived just across the river and didn’t heisted to sneak her upstairs to his room when she arrived. He threw Day on his bed and slammed his body on top of her. Her aggressiveness was just as strong as his. She felt for his big belt buckle as he pulled off her shirt. Day’s release came with a jolt. Her guilt was gone, as was her dignity once again.
Night sunk to her knees while she felt her life leaving her. Her pain slipped away with the blood that now soaked her black clothing and the ground beneath her. After several minutes of shallow breathing Night found her permanent release.
Day pushed against his chest, something felt wrong. She felt strange like some part of her just died. He turned her month back to his and Day forgot about it. So goes the release for Night and Day. When dawn came Day lived on but Night’s eyes would never again open for the Sun.
by: Ashli Edwards
