A witches winter night out

Vanessa wasn’t quite a witch. But she might as well be. She lived at the edge of town, where no one dared tread, closest to the moon atop of a hill. All alone in a rustly old home, proudly showing its age.

Well yes but with some caveats. She did live atop of a hill but unlike the stories, the path wasn’t treacherous. It was a newly pulverized road smooth as butter, beckoning with its deep blackness. She did live in a rusty old home. Its worn-out colors and vines give it an aged finishing. However, unlike the witches' home where the inside was drenched in materials of magic and taboo, it was a picturesque interior with modern rusting furniture and radiant marble tiles. Also, she didn’t live alone. She lived with the daughter of her late father's friend.

However, suspending her disbelief Vanessa adorned her warm blue coat and headed out into the night. Her room was on the second floor at the end of the hallway that leads to the stairs. The discrepancy started here. Vanessa usually notices this hallway early in the morning when she gets up for class. The early morning light blistering away at the old windows, reflecting on the marble tilings with all its galore. However, now it’s all dark. Only a wither of night light keeps it from becoming completely inscrutable. It evoked a spookiness that almost made Vanessa go back inside to her room. But she decided to brave through it. She walked towards the stairs slowly, making sure not to make a sound. Not that she thought Alicia(the girl she lives with) would wake up from footsteps. Her room is on the opposite side of the house downstairs. Rather she felt she was trespassing into the night. An oddity to the nights' natural habitat. Her presence would only anger it and morph into something that it is not. She doesn’t want that. So she made sure not to make the slightest mistake. Her breath, her posture, her gesture all assured the night that she wasn’t a perpetrator, rather an innocent bystander who just simply want to observe.
The end of the hallway breathed a bit of clarity. The light from the chandelier illuminated the spiral stairs that lead downstairs. She really can never get used to it, the exoticness of it. The chandelier, the black rich finishing of the handrail and baluster, the red carpet that adorns over the teal marble tiles.
The night only seemed to intensify it.

She walks down the stairs and goes straight for the door. Carefully opened the wooden door that was older than she is. The slight screeching of the old hinges echoes explosively in the night. She doesn’t let it bother her. Wearing her shoe she walks out the front gate of the manor.

Here she feels it. It was still the same road. The downhill stretch that leads to
a cross-road, and straight ahead an uphill road that leads to the bus station. The same road she takes every day to school. It was all too familiar, and yet, it was somehow different. The night shrouds it in an untold mystery, not so frightening rather mystifying.

She started to walk again. Her shoe clik claking with crisp asphalt. The cold was finally getting to her. She left visible puffs of breath as she walked down. The road was completely empty. That wasn’t surprising, this road was always empty. Quite a few years ago this area had a complete renovation. A major housing project so to speak. Old structures were destroyed and empty lands were field with line by line of duplexes and triplex. The only structure that remained was the old family house of Alicias. Alicia's father was not only wealthy but a powerful man too. The housing project was a complete flop. Turns out you can’t just do a malibu hill anywhere. Most of the houses are left vacant. As the prices dropped some were bought but not a lot.

Even then you could see one or two people, walking down to the city or a car or two, getting out of the garage or parking in one. But right now, it seemed like a ghost town. You could barely find any sign of life.

She sees these houses every day. She knows which house comes after which. The houses that are colored other than white. The houses with a pool on top of it. The night seemed to play with this familiarity. Messing with her in the most charming of ways. The lonesome road is even more inaudible. The hushness was only disturbed by the melody of her footsteps.

The lamposts try their best to light up the streets. Some of them work fine others barely, the rest have already died out. She never especially noticed those, yet she does now. She also notices other discrepancies. Was that pool always there? Did that railing always look like that? Was the glass there always broken? There even was a speed sign note of more than 30.

The night smelled different. Much cleaner and easy on the soul. There was an air of easiness to it all. Like she could put her guard down, no one to put a front up to, everyone was asleep anyway. The boundaries that our share existence created weren’t here. And that put her at peace. Like she was the only one there. The only one who mattered. She thought if that was a good thing but removed it, she wasn’t going to be in her head now.
The night made her feel free.

She was now at the crossroads. The shops that bustle here were dead silent. Shutters closed. It felt post-apocalyptic. She has never seen these shops with their shutter down. She really was in the dead of night. The road goes uphill from here, to the bus station. It’s not too long at all. A couple of minutes only. Halfway there, however, she stopped. One more step and you could see the other side.

She didn’t want to see the other side. You see the other side was alive, wide awake. She knew she’d see people, standing in line. Other folks, talking, shouting, drinking, or being merry. Shops opened brimming with customers, the lights would all be working. The sound of civilization filling the air.

She knew the other side would bring her back to the real world. Where she always has been. And the suspension of disbelief would be gone. The little marble of reality she made for herself would crack and everything else would come pouring in.

So she turned around. Her shoes click clacking back up. Vanessa wasn’t quite a witch. But she woudn’t mind being one right now. Soaring with a broom would've been perfect right about now. Entertaining that thought she felt something wet on her face. And then she looked up. It was snow. The first one this year.