The Silent Room

When I see the sun tomorrow morning, I am legally not a teenager anymore. And that saddens me, somehow.

You know what I usually do during my birthdays? On the night of every 15th September, I’d sneak out, and climb onto the roof of my house. I would just sit there, and stare skywards.

I would look up to see how bright the moon shines for me that night.
I would look up to see how many stars came to see me that night.
I would look up to see how much the wind would chill me that night.
I would look up to see if the clouds would slightly cover the moon to create a surreal glow for me that night.
I would look up to see if there would be any droplets of rain for me that night.

And then I would close my eyes. It’s never a quiet night, as there would always be the leaves rustling in the wind and air-cond motors humming gently and cars revving away in distance. I would stand up, and take a look around me. My house is perched atop a hill that overlooks a huge area of my hometown. And I wouold stand, and scan around.

As I enjoy the calmness of the wind and hear the songs of the stars, I would recount what I have done, what I could have done, and what I should have done. Sometimes it brings about moments of satisfaction, at other times, moment of thought, and the rest, moments of regret. I would pruposely dive into myself, and remind myself of who I am.

But tonight is a special night. The big ‘o’ as one would put it. Not on the roof, tonight, oh no, no. Because this time around, I plan to bring some hot chocolate along. Nothing would make a better companion.

And have a little quiet moment for myself.