The darkness that was around my world engulfed me until I was sure I was nonexistent. From the time I was born, I knew that my life was nothing. I knew that I was no one and nothing, nothing to anyone and nothing to everything.

So I sat there, encircled in my own world, not caring who looked at me, or who talked about me. What hurt the most…was when they didn’t.
I got out of bed, the room dark, the curtains closed, the cold hardwood against my feet…I looked out the crack of my door, looking down the long hallway to make sure mom was in bed. Lights off, T.V downstairs turned on high…a faint snore in the background. Good. She was out.

I opened the door more so, just to slide out the side and against the wall. It took a while to figure out the cracks and creaks of the floor. I figured that if I slide down against the wall, the creaks aren’t as loud, and mom can’t hear them.

I flinched from the thought, mom waking up and stomping up the stairs. She never hurt me, but she sure was scary when she was angry. Asking me what I was up to so late. She never understood…she didn’t care.

I worked at my job all day, then would go to school…have to clean and put up with my younger abusive brother. She had no idea…and when I get out of bed at night…it’s my only time to have to myself. It’s my only time to think.
I slid across the floor, my feet barely making any noise at all, and the creaks almost totally inaudible.

I reached the kitchen, walking across the stone tile with ease. Now here was the hard part…The backdoor opening. It made no creak but the sliding with metal against metal was loud. I bit my lip, and slowly pulled the door open…The metal bars rubbing gently…quietly tonight. “Thank you,” I whispered to the glass, looking at my reflection before I slid through the crack.

The wind gently hit my face, ticking my cheeks for the first time that day. I smiled gently, darkness encircling me, the moon and a few stars lighting my path.

I walked out onto the porch, the wood prickling my feet; I walked to the railing next to the stairs. I waited a moment, took a small refreshing breath, and then with all my strength, lifted myself onto the railing. The roof wasn’t too far of a reach from the railing; I climb up all the time. The step, the tiles on the roof, the breeze, I had it all memorized. I’ve done it every day since I was six.

I hopped up onto the roof, pulling myself up. The shingles were all misplaced and falling off, but I had my usual blank spot on the top.

I gently curled my feet in front of me and looked up at the sky. Sometimes, I believed I was the moon. Only shining the brightest at night and engulfed by endless night. I felt happy at night, I felt safe.

I smiled at the moon, closing my eyes, letting its light shine down on my face, caressing it. It was the friend I never had…Loving me and embracing me when I needed it most.

“I know that you love the moon Ray, but aren’t I your friend too?” The voice didn’t startle me. It was always there. “Dante,” I whispered into the air,” I thought that you were asleep.” He appeared before me, floating a little off the roof. “No my princess, I awoke when I saw you leave your room. I was worried,” he replied.

I smiled at him. Dante might not be human, but other than the moon, he was my closest friend. “Dante?” I asked gently, looking back at the moon. He gently moved to my side, looking up with me. “Yes?” “How does it feel to die?” I whispered gently.

His black shade turned a faint grey as he thought about it. “It doesn’t hurt. Well, mine didn’t. I just sort of…drifted away when I drowned,” he replied gently, turning his head to me, “why?”
I shook my head, smiling. “I don’t know. Being the Princess of the Afterlife just makes me think too much,” I said softly, clasping my hands together in front of me, “I wanted to know how it felt, or what exactly would happen. It’s just so mysterious and strange, but all so new. I love it.”

I knew it was strange, and I probably to the human eye, seemed like a freak. But death was interesting. Not the physical part of it, but what happened to the soul when it parted. Did spirits keep their emotions? Their thoughts? Their memories?

I’ve been the princess since I was born but I had never asked these questions. Dante was my protector. He has been by my side since before I can remember. He says when I was young I used to tell my parents that he was my friend. They would call me crazy and say it was an imaginary friend. I could never understand why they called him that when I could talk to him so easily. I didn’t find out WHAT I was until I was in middle school. Then things started to change. All for the better in my opinion, even if they still treat me like crap.

Dante himself was a different type of spirit. There are all types he says. He is a chubby, black, floating mass that loves to talk. He has two antennae that come from his head and he has dark eyes that reflect everything he sees.

He told me he died at sea, but not where or how. So I didn’t ask after the first time. I felt…like he was uncomfortable. So I didn’t push it.

“Well my princess? Shall we return to bed?” he asked softly, like a whisper in my ear. I nodded, standing up and gently jumping back on to the rail.

I hopped down onto the deck and headed back for the door, hesitating as Dante disappeared through the glass. I turned back around to face the moon. I stared at it for a moment, smiling again.

“I love you darling. My darling moon. Shine bright for me tonight. Wish me luck for tomorrow.” Then I turned, letting myself inside.