We'll Be Glowing in the Dark

A boy searches for the key to freedom.

Lights flickered by in a rush, the engine groaning in protest. The red lights flashing in the misty gloom of the midnight hour weren't stopping me, and neither would this relic of metal, its one shattered window still shaking with fragments of glass. A foolish decision to snatch the first thing I could fine, but I had a deadline that I intended to make. The streets were empty anyway, leaving this old machine to echo across the urban chasm.

It died on me five blocks later.

Now my feet urgently pound against the pavement, my belt bouncing and clinking with its armament of spray cans. The thought of having to secure it better had past my mind before abandoning the excuse of a vehicle, but time wasn't on my side. My window of opportunity was shrinking fast.

My foot splashed through a puddle without thought, adding to the chill of the night air. The lights were becoming fewer and far between in this backwater area of the city, making it all the more of a challenge to distinguish where I was going, the moon currently draped with unwelcomed clouds. Even if I did make it, the night may be lost anyway to the simple patterns of nature.

I dove into a gaping alleyway, hands and feet scrambling up a rusted ladder after a well-timed leap. Even if I was attempting to be discreet, the instability of the creaking fire escape would betray me as my ascent was accented by creaks, shudders, and metal clacks. I could only find fortune in the fact it wasn't collapsing.

I reached the peak of my climb nearly a minute later, my lungs gasping for air. Up here, beyond the orange glow of the street lights, it was a murky dark, shapes barely outlined. My eyes fought to adjust, but just then, like a welcoming sign, the clouds broke apart upon my arrival, bathing the rooftop in the moon's white light.

Awaiting me lingered a group a dozen strong; a melting pot of teenagers of varying ages and sizes, none in obvious conversation other than a few muted whispers. Yet there was a certain, overlaying energy that seemed to flow between them all, manifesting into something that wished to be released. It almost felt tense, as if the slightest tap would make it snap. Already I felt its pull, and with uncertain steps, I walked forward.

Faces were hard to make out up here in the moon's glow, but there wasn't a single unwelcoming glance. Some gave nods before returning to distant stares across the city. Others didn't even notice my arrival at all, too preoccupied to watch the revealed heavens above. A ragtag bunch, really, in their patched clothing and their rough appearance. My kind of people... and an explanation for my invitation.

I tried to distinguish a leader amongst them. It couldn't be the mousy looking boy flicking pebbles of gravel, or the lanky one busy wrapping his palms in what appeared to be tape. A sense of sureness rose when I spotted one of the older teens standing atop an AC unit, hands in his pockets as he looked over the expansive city, giving no notice to the group below him. He was silent, however, as the breeze ruffled his hair, as if waiting for a sign.

Trying to relax, I caught the eye of a girl; one of the few. She acknowledged me with a small smile, shockingly blue eyes glinting in the moonlight. I clumsily returned the silent greeting with my own grin, soon trying to divert my attention elsewhere before I made a fool of myself. I could feel her eyes linger on me, though, for whatever reason. That flow of concealed energy only beat within me faster afterward, rising in anticipation.

Everyone jolted to attention the moment the supposed leader finally moved, his eyes rotating on down to us. His expression was stoic, not even giving me a glimpse of what was churning in his head, but there was that spark in his eyes, ready to light the fire. One by one he looked at us, and with each person accredited for, each stood a bit taller. Finally, the dark eyes migrated to me last. A smile spread then, his hand flicking down to his waist before tossing a spray can my way, saying three words that would represent this night, and potentially, the rest of my life.

"Make your mark."

The spark landed just right, the rush of inner fire crossing us all, and in a flurry of movement, the group began to disperse. Amongst the motion, I could see a variety of glowsticks emerging from pockets and packs, soon wrapped around limbs or serving as headbands. It was like they symbolized each member, distinguishing each other within the gloom of the night. Entranced, I watched the swirling new color dash across the rooftop as its carriers leapt from the roof, landing with precision on the neighboring one.

Someone brushed past me, slipping something into my hand. I caught a glimpse of a smile, belonging to the girl from before as she glided by, giving an encouraging wave before falling in step with the others. Looking down, I found one of the sticks in my hand, already glowing a bright green. I’d been given the key.

With new vigor, a ring of green now encasing my right arm, I charged on after them. Gravity released me for a brief, thrilling moment as an alleyway shot past beneath my feet, but soon they were digging into gravel once more as I joined the unique path.

The only signs I could see of the others ahead of me was the bobbing and weaving rainbow of lights, moving swiftly enough to leave trails of color in my vision. A sense of ease filled me then, effortlessly leaping from rooftop to rooftop without worry despite the stories lying below. I felt free, up above the streets like this, no shackles pinning me down. I could jump to the moon, if I pleased.

One figure with a halo of blue eventually paused, arms dancing in front of a wall, spray cans wielded in front of a brick canvas. Another with yellow soon mimicked him, quickly followed by purple, all three falling into a rhythm of sweeping arms and precise arrangements.

I soon joined the pattern, finding my own solitary roof, unclipping cans from my belt. It felt as though my hands moved on their own, creating a swooshing, intricate design on the bricks before me. Minutes ticked away as the art grew vast, holding an unintelligible meaning to even myself.

But it was my mark, a new ghost of my presence to remain here for ages. Few would see it, but for those who did, they would at least give pause for a brief moment and wonder of its origin, of what hand that brought its vibrant color to life on a dull canvas. Deep down, I knew I was satisfied with such an assumption. Even with the creator a mystery, I would flicker through their thoughts. Faceless, but present.

Laughter breaks me out of my contemplation, the kaleidoscope of color starting to move on, but I see one person beckon. It was the girl, her smile barely seen in the dim light, but bright nonetheless.  I can only return it, stowing my paint without hesitation as I take the leap towards her. She is here for the same reason as I, for that sense of freedom and purpose, to leave our marks on an empty city.

We stare at each other for a moment, two free and wild souls high above the world before we take flight once more.

We vanish into the night, luminous and wired, glowing in the dark.

 

 

 

 

Author's Note

Based on the song Charlie Brown by Coldplay.

This was hastily slapped together for a contest on another site. I would have liked to expand upon the idea a bit more, but there happened to be a word limit. Either way, though, I enjoyed using the song as a source of creativity. Any feedback would be appreciated.