Damned By The Moonlight

Chapter One

Chapter One

"May I help you?" the small woman asked from behind the counter. She smiled at me and looked at me a bit flirtatious.

"Um, yes. Can I have a pack of cigarettes?" I asked, a look of confusion crossing my features.

"Any form of identification?" I nodded and pulled my ID out of my pocket. I held it out to her and she grabbed it, our hands touching. Her hands felt cold, but then again, it was a cold winter night, and even I was cold.

She handed it back after looking it over and turned around to pick out a pack of Marlboros. I had no idea how she knew exactly what kind to get; I had only told her cigarettes. She dropped them on the counter and held out her hand. "That'll be five dollars and forty nine cents," she said cheerily.

I smiled and dug out a ten dollar bill. "Keep the change," I muttered as I grabbed the pack of Marlboros and left the gas station.

*~*~*~*

I slammed the screen door behind me and stood in the foyer. "Perry?" I heard my mother call. I walked into the living room to see her knitting a pale yellow blanket.

"Yeah, mom, it's me," I said calmly. I leaned down and hugged her from behind as she sat in the chair. She was sick, and couldn't make many movements. It was just her age. She had some type of sickness that caused her to not be able to talk much, and arthritis. She caught the arthritis ten years ago, but she never thought it was a big deal, until now.

Out of her five children, I was the only one to stick around and help her. I was the youngest, and the brightest. I'm nineteen, and am still living with my mother. If I weren't around to help, the oldest ones would've put her in a home.

The old phone rang and I picked it up. "Hello?" a female voice asked.

I frowned at the familiarity of the voice, then softened my look. "Who's this?" I asked huskily.

She cleared her throat and continued. "Perry? Is that you?"

I nodded, then hummed, "Mmhmm." I coughed loudly. "Who's this?" I demanded.

"Isabella. Perry, I'm coming over. I need to speak with you." I hung up the phone and twisted around to give my mother a worried look.

"What is it, son?" she asked, her needles ending their clatter. I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out.

Isabella is my older sister. My mother didn't have a good relationship with her. Isabella was the one who brought up putting her in a home.

"Nothing," I said, "nothing you need to worry about, mom." She gave me a weak smile, then continued knitting her blanket.

Isabella can't be here. Not now, and not ever.

*~*~*~*

Isabella's white truck pulled into the driveway. I scowled, and stomped outside to her truck. She climbed out of her truck and earned a look of hate from me. "Look, Perry, before you--"

"What are you doing here?" I yelled at her, waving my fist in the air.

"Perry, I need to talk to you. It's important," she said calmly. I held my arms at my sides and fought the urge to hit her. "Look, can we go for a drive?"

I looked back at the house, and furrowed my eyebrows. "It's not about mom?" I asked.

She shook her head, her black hair falling over her shoulders. "No, it's about you."

I gave her a look of fear, but climbed into her truck regardless.

It's important. Very important.