Night’s velvet sheet darkened the sleeping suburbs. While the clock said it was morning, to the rest of the world it was night.

A single person cast shadows down the sidewalk. There was a heavy load she carried, one other than the backpack strapped to her shoulders. Without the crickets chirping, the night was quietly wrapped around her echoing footsteps. A walk such as this would make most people nervous; however, it was her daily journey to the bus stop. She walked each morning, with her head low and hair over her eyes, down the street. There was no need for her to see; she knew the road well.

It was easy to hear even the slightest sound. Any sound that broke the night-morning’s silence found her eyes darting to it, just in case. It would be so easy for anyone to take her, to hurt her, that’s what they would think at least. Poor ignorant fools, they wouldn’t know her secret nor the power she possesses. She never worried on her daily treks because, to be honest, she didn’t need to worry.