Half Past 12 I Was All Alone Novels & Stories

It was already December so the weather was cold. The breeze was slightly penetrating through my bare face which made me shiver and I couldn’t help but put my hands with gloves on my face. The neighborhood also was already so quiet. I can’t blame them though, it was already 11 p.m. and I am still here walking on my way home alone. The good thing about this is that I already ate at a dinner meeting earlier and decided to just walk because my house is just a walking distance from the hotel where we held our dinner.

" __________ A week letter A week later, the silence of the apartment had become familiar again-heavy, unchanging, almost echoing. Living alone in this place had been my reality since I was twelve. Back then, my father had brought me here for my studies, arranging maids to take care of everything, as if organization could replace presence. He lived in India, far away, separated from me by borders, time zones, and an unspoken distance I never quite understood.

Karma can’t be so hard on me. Zana had to leave before me after she received a message from her brother being in town. So I’m strolling home at 5 p.m all by myself. There are people around. Not many, but still counts. I fish out my earplugs from my bag and play some music so I feel less lonely right now.

"Why are you coming this way by this time of the night? It's incredibly lonely out here." I look around me immediately those words left his mouth. It is indeed lonely. Devoid of all living creatures except for restless crickets that supply a terrible cacophony capable of making my bathroom off key singing sound like heavenly music. Did I wander this far without realizing it? "Umm… I'm just seeking some alone time."

He was the only thing standing between me and whatever was waiting inside. We were heading toward the address the caller had given: midnight, come alone. Of course, Dante hadn't let me go by myself. He’d just laughed when I suggested it. But even with him there, my nerves were raw. Every step on the cracked pavement felt like it was echoing for miles. I looked at his profile—his jaw was set and his eyes were cold. He was in his element. I just felt like I was drowning.

Inside, a group of friends were laughing loudly, sharing drinks and stories. For a moment, Ethan watched them. Then he looked away. Moments like that always reminded him of the same painful truth. He had always been alone. Not just physically. But in every way that mattered. The Strange Feeling The rain began to fall even harder as Ethan turned into a narrow street behind several closed stores. This shortcut usually saved him ten minutes on the walk home. But tonight, something felt… different. The streetlights flickered above him. Once. Twice. Then suddenly—

I can't believe the fact that I had not cleaned my room for two weeks, Elektra would kill me and what would Alcinder think of me. He loves me too much. As a Friend, of course. I started picking up my jeans into the laundry basket while the loud music I played blasted in my ears. I turned to the calendar and the date was July 31st, 2022. Oh shit! I'm eighteen today. Eighteen and broken Eighteen with pills Eighteen with pains and holding on to the past Eighteen with broken dreams and spiteful family Eighteen and depressed... I wasn't going to celebrate anything. Today my fate was going to be decided. The healer was going to mock me again and speak coldly, telling me I would die without a mate.

I’d probably get caught ogling Elizabeth anyway. Hours passed. I kept to myself by the lake, sneaking a beer and ignoring the husbands. My phone died around 11 p.m., so I went inside to find a charger. Everyone was outside, and Mom, surrounded by the housewives, nodded nervously when I waved my phone. I found a charger in the kitchen and stayed there, scrolling. Fireworks popped steadily as midnight neared, but I didn’t care. I felt like a loser, alone even on New Year’s.

My body isn't mine, but his. Draping a towel firmly around my waist, I stepped into the room, looking up at the wall clock. It's a little before twelve in the morning and the midnight rain patters down my window with aggression as maddening as the ache in my heart. I lay down on the bed and stare into the darkness for a few minutes, bidding on sleep to come. When it's exactly twelve-thirty, I give up and throw the covers off, padding downstairs in only lingerie and flip-flops.

Annabelle left sometime around one a.m. We hadn’t realised the time, and she had to rush off to head home. The room that was filled with light and laughter and friendship suddenly became cold and lonely. Even with the lights and heating on, the cold still seeped through my bones as if to remind me of what I didn’t have when Annabelle left.