The Twilight Sad
No One Can Ever Know

The night is cold and sleepless. Darkness overtakes everything, and the orange lights of the street lamps illuminate the deserted alleys. Facing the window, I listen to the silence that reigns supreme. I throw the cigarette butt into the street, finish the last sip of beer. The television is on with the volume off. The news talks about nothing else, he is on everyone’s lips. The serial killer. The mad murderer who is scaring the entire city. Twelve his victims, and still, no one knows who he is. But I know who he is. Knowing his identity has torn my insides. Knowing that your closest friend, your desk mate for years, the person you consider a brother, is a ruthless killer has killed me inside. I don’t know what to do, I can’t think clearly. I need to go out and get some air, there’s no way I’m sleeping. I put on my jacket, plug the earbuds into my ears, and close the door behind me. The music of The Twilight Sad is dark and painful, drenched in nocturnal and heavy electronic sounds. Their latest work, "No One Can Ever Know", I love it madly and have been listening to it for months without ever getting tired of it. It’s like hearing Joy Division fused with Nine Inch Nails.

The rhythm of "Dead City" embeds itself in my brain right away. In front of me, only a flashing traffic light and a stray dog rummaging through garbage bags abandoned on the roadside. I quicken my pace. The scattered puddles on the black asphalt reflect the pale moon, half-hidden by threatening clouds. I suddenly make a decision. I’m going to him, I need to talk to him. I need to know why, I want to know how my friend turned into a mad killer. I take a left down a dark alley. It smells rotten. "Sick" sounds like a lacerating love song, with its slow melody, the suffering voice, the rarefied drum machine. There’s a woman leaning against the wall, just outside a shady club. She’s very young, wearing only a skimpy bikini and covering herself with a faux fur coat. She’s crying, and the black makeup around her eyes has streaked her cheeks. I approach her to help, to ask if she needs anything, but she runs away and disappears in an instant, shouting words in a language I don’t understand. Frightened, I run away from that place and find myself in a deserted and silent park. "Nil" is a piece of pure electronic that sends chills down my spine. The synth slowly makes its way to explode at the end alongside the voice with a strong Scottish accent. I walk under a light drizzle. My feet slip in the wet grass. The bare branches create shadow plays with the moonlight, they seem like hands wanting to capture me. I hear a rustle and turn abruptly, but there’s nothing. I continue towards his house, it’s not far. The humidity seeps into my bones, and I shiver with cold. I keep walking. I hear another noise, but I don’t have time to turn because two strong hands grab me by the collar of my jacket. I'm slammed to the ground. I see above me a familiar face, the reason for my insomnia. The Twilight Sad continues to play in the headphones, at the highest volume. It’s time for "Don’t Look At Me", with its metallic drums and dark atmosphere. His blue eyes meet mine. He stares and says not a word. Why? I scream at him. Why are you doing this? He’s silent and looks away, then stands up and releases me from his grip. He motions for me to leave, to run away, far away. The music hasn’t stopped pounding in my head for a moment, and now the groove of "Kill It In The Morning" feels so heavy it’s like a boulder. I start running as fast as I can. I fall, scratch my cheek. I resume running, but now I feel him running behind me. He’s chasing me. I can’t take it, tears blur my vision. I fall again, and this time he’s on me. I’m sorry, he says. It wasn’t supposed to end like this. I’m sorry, he says as he plunges the blade of his knife into my chest. Blood gushes out in streams. I feel life fading, drifting away. I’m sorry, he tells me, staring with those light eyes of his.

The music stops suddenly, replaced by a less enchanting sound. A loud sound. I open my eyes. I’m in my room, in my bed. It’s morning. I look around and understand everything. It was a dream, a damn dream. I still hear that sound. It’s my phone ringing. I answer. It’s my friend, telling me to hurry up, he’s waiting for me at the university bar as every morning. I burst into laughter. It was just a nightmare.