Every Night!

I slid open the glass door of the book case which was neatly stacked with books of all genres and pulled out my diary, dragged my chair slowly without making any sound on the marble floor, as the clock was striking 2:15 am and everyone else was busy snoring at my home. 

I sat down to write something. I have seen that there is something different about this time. Maybe because I love when there is no voice alive. 

My dad contributed to this by giving me his childhood table lamp, which has this bright yellow colour bulb, which just focuses on my notebook in a pitch dark room. 

I have this one earphone plug inside my ear and another was hanging down freely, because I feel what if some ghosty soul enters my room and i fail to hear the footsteps. Spotify was playing a soft music for me to trigger some deep thoughts. I remember slowly getting into the zone of writing something when my Spotify died. You will relate if you have used it. 

I had this weird headache and my throat went dry. 

I felt someone enter the room, offcourse the moonlight. 

The brain which doesn't have the memory of what 'theory of relativity' mean,
was now busy in playing the flashback of all the horror movies i have seen.
I slowly bring the glass near my lips to take a sip,
when my pencil fell down and broke its tip.
 I realised someone is signalling me this is not a time to write, 

or tomorrow people might not see my sight. 

I sneaked inside the blanket, with my eyes shut tight, well that's exactly the story of my every night.