The moon hung like a lonely pearl, casting just enough light to show me what I now crave. I was on my bike, just cruising, when she appeared. Her hair, so long it flowed past her ankles, was like a dark waterfall. And her eyes... even from behind, they seemed to hold a sorrow, a depth that pulled me in. But then her smile — it was a beacon, a flash of pure joy that contrasted so deeply with her haunting gaze.
She wore a simple white shirt and shorts, but it was how she moved, so effortlessly, so completely lost in her own world. Headphones on, she swayed, dancing to a silent beat. I couldn't tear my eyes away. From her head to her toes, she was perfect. Her body was so strong, so graceful. It wasn't just admiration; it was a desperate longing that seized me, a need to possess that beauty, to have her notice me.
To my right, the park was a hushed shadow; to my left, the big houses stood silent. Then, like a dream fading, she turned into one of the smaller mansions. She never looked back. Not even a glance. And I just sat there, my bike still, my eyes fixed on the empty space where she'd vanished. Now, all I have is this gnawing emptiness, this desperate ache for a girl who doesn't even know I exist.