Her pale, slender fingers shone with an unearthly, almost fluorescent light in the artificial glow from the service station she was sitting close to.
Another light flickered in the night sky – this one darker, more natural. A fiery shade of oranges and yellows mixed together. The small light was snuffed out of existence as abruptly as it appeared; instead, a small glowing red tip took its place.
She raised the cigarette to her numb lips, inhaling slowly and allowing the strong smoke to fill her lungs completely. A soft sigh escaped her, with it the smoke that came rushing out of her lungs, ready to be blown back into the night air.
"I wish you wouldn't," a quiet, husky voice rang out as she lifted the cigarette back to her lips.
"I wish for a lot of things. They don't happen though, do they?" Her voice rasped into the cool night air, hoarse from the night's events.
"They could happen," the other voice got quieter, barely a whisper in the air.
She stood suddenly, inhaling sharply on her cigarette.
"But they won't," she blew, smoke enveloping the trespassers face, "they won't happen," with that, she threw her cigarette onto the ground and stood on it, extinguishing its small flame before stalking into the dark night.