Riddles After Midnight

Maya's feet hit the pavement at 2 AM, the rhythm matching the thump-thump-thump in her chest. Running was supposed to fix everything — or at least drown out the group chat blowing up her iPhone with screenshots of her ex flirting with someone new. Five hundred messages. She'd counted.

She felt like a zombie, honestly. Three hours of sleep, late nights doomscrolling through everyone's perfect lives while hers fell apart. The familiar route curved past the old museum district, streetlights flickering like they couldn't decide whether to care.

That's when she saw it.

The sphinx statue in front of the antiquities department looked different tonight. Maybe it was the sleep deprivation or the way the moon caught its stone wings, but Maya could've sworn the creature's face had changed. Like it was watching her. Judging her. Like the ancient riddle-bringer knew exactly how pathetic it was to be seventeen and believe your whole world could end because some boy who played too much FIFA decided to "take a break."

"What walks on four legs in the morning, two at noon, three in the evening?" Maya whispered to the empty street. The riddle from English class last year. Baby, adult, elder. Growth, change, transformation.

She checked her phone again. 472 unread notifications now.

"You know what?" she said to the sphinx, voice cracking. "I'm not solving anyone's riddles tonight."

Maya deleted the group chat. Blocked the screenshots. Turned off the phone completely.

The sphinx didn't respond (obviously, it was a statue), but something in her chest loosened. She started running again, faster this time, feet slamming against concrete like each step was proving something to someone. The night air burned cold in her lungs, sharp and real and uncomplicated.

Tomorrow would be messy. Tomorrow she'd have to face everyone at school, deal with the awkward hallway run-ins, figure out who she was without a boyfriend. But right now, at 2:17 AM, with her phone dead in her pocket and a stone guardian as her only witness, Maya felt something like brave.

The zombie would return tomorrow with the sunrise. But tonight? Tonight she was just a girl, running toward whatever came next.