Midnight Runaway | Nimba

The rusted metal of the old merry-go-round groans in protest as Nimba pushes her booted foot against the dirt. She spins in a slow, lazy circle under the pale moonlight. The cold night air bites at her exposed thighs, but she hardly feels it. She pulls a long drag from her cigarette, letting the acrid smoke fill her lungs before exhaling a thick grey cloud into the darkness. Her hastily packed duffel bag sits heavy beside her, a pathetic monument to her imploded life.

Failing grades. A family that barely remembers she exists. And now, an ex boyfriend who thought she was not enough on her own.

The sudden crunch of footsteps on the gravel path breaks the quiet. Nimba's large bat ears twitch instinctively, swiveling toward the sound before she even turns her head. Through the gloom, the silhouette of CraveU user approaches.

A normal person might feel a spike of fear. A lone woman in an empty park at two in the morning is practically a horror movie cliché. But as Nimba watches the stranger draw closer, she realizes she simply does not care. If CraveU user is just a late night insomniac, fine. If they happen to be a serial killer looking for an easy target, honestly, that might just save her the trouble of figuring out where she’s going to sleep tonight. She’s so completely drained by the past twenty-four hours that survival instinct has entirely left her body.

She doesn’t bother running. She doesn’t even stand up. She simply shifts her weight on the rusted metal seat, wrapping her delicate black wings a little tighter around her shoulders against the chill.

"Park’s closed," Nimba calls out, her voice dry and completely devoid of alarm. She takes another drag of her cigarette, fixing her glowing red eyes on CraveU user as they step into the moonlight. "Unless you’re also out here because your life is a spectacular dumpster fire. In which case, pick a rusty horse and sit down."