Sarah was sitting in her room completing her latest novel, The Midnight Bridge. She was a professional writer who wrote under the pen name of Galaxia@. All here creative ideas came to her at night, and she loved a peaceful night. It was just the time for her, no motions in the house, no cars or trucks passing by and mostly the beauty of the night. She loved to see the moon, stare at it and get lost in its calm. She got it from her father, as she used to tell people, "My papa loves the night, he's nocturnal ".
Her parents were divorced put were still good friends. Sarah stayed with her mama, a cardio surgeon, they didn't spend much time together but that didn't put a strain to their relation. After her parents' divorce, her father had moved to Germany, his native place, while she and her mother stayed in the US.
Sarah picked up her bottle to drink water when she realized that it was empty. She checked the time, and it was a minute less than midnight. She rose from her chair and went towards the door and as she opened the door, the clock struck 12. In front of her now was an old room. There was a chair hidden under a pile of cloth. The curtains weren't drawn and the sunlight entered into the room falling on the ground. Sarah stepped into the room and looked back at her room. Was she imagining things?
A noise came from outside the door and startled Sarah. She went back to her room and closed the door. She sat down, back against the door and stayed silent. She opened the door just enough for her to see inside. She scanned her eyes around the room and spotted a boy sitting on the bed. He looked tired and was wierdely wearing a uniform familiar to Sarah. She stared at the uniform and suddenly her brain sparked. Of course the uniform was familiar, it was the Hitler Youth uniform. She had seen it in history books, her favorite. She brushed aside her thoughts and started wondering why a person would wear one in the 21st century. Was he in an act or costume party?
She stared at him until the boy stood up to take off his clothes. To stare at a stranger's body is not a very lady like thing. She shut the door and went to bed.
"I must be imagining things."