Midnight Mourning

By the time I woke, so had the full moon. Had I significantly overslept? Or hardly at all? I wasn’t sure. The only comprehensible truth was that the moon was staring back at me. I had strange sleeping patterns a lot lately, it was like my internal clock had set to that of a foreign place, yet here I was.

I bid good morning to the moon and drearily rubbed my eyes, gaining my bearings. Once they  were attuned to the darkness, I followed my normal routine to visit the kitchen for a cup of coffee. Black and bitter, the way I always liked it.

My family would think I’m crazy for having coffee this time of night, I thought as I made my way quietly down the stairs. Hell, I would think I’m crazy too if I wasn’t on this bizarre schedule.

The water boiled quickly, and sure it was louder than the Keurig, but I always liked it better that way. I picked out one of my favorite mugs from the cabinet and set it on the counter. Clumsy as I have always been, I knocked over the mug. I heard footsteps coming down the stairs, so I hid. Which was silly, but old habits don’t disappear in a year.

There was another set of footsteps, ones that I knew would find me no matter what.

The first set stopped at the kitchen entryway, they were my daughter’s. The second set, however, came slowly but surely towards my spot next to the counter. My furry child could always find me with that impeccable nose of his. “Hi Luke,” I whispered and smiled at him. He wagged his tail in response.

I heard my daughter mumble to herself before going to pick up the mug I dropped. I wanted to help, but I knew I would only scare her. Hearing subtle noises and seeing pieces of the mug moving on their own would surely unsettle anyone. She was never good with scary movies, and for her to live it would probably really throw her for a loop, especially after just waking up. She wasn’t good with that – a bit of a grump actually. I smiled to myself.

It really was stupid of me to hide, she couldn’t see my ghost. Besides, it had been so long since I had seen her while she was awake. Normally I would peak in the bedroom, greeted by rhythmic breathing and Luke’s wagging tail.

I stood up and looked at her. She looked the same, only a little more matured. I could see it in her eyes, the feelings she held inside until she would explode and the wisdom way beyond her years. She was intuitive, bright, and genuine- I was so proud of who she had become. I just wished I could tell her.

The girl put everything away and beckoned to the dog who took one more look at me before retreating back to the bedroom. He always saw me, though I wasn’t sure how.
But my daughter? She would never know what I wanted to say, the reason mugs break and stairs creak in the middle of the night, or why Luke would way his tail at nothing. But it wasn’t nothing, it was me, and only he could see my ghost. The rest of them would never see the face behind the midnight mysteries, the mystery that is me.

Daily Prompt:Mystery


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