The Moon

Hey, so this is the first story I've written in a looong time so go easy on me. I hope you enjoy!
This was inspired by a writing prompt.
The song lyrics are from Big Light by Houses.  They fit really well :D

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“Whatever you do, don’t look at the moon.”

What a strange text message to receive.  I don’t even remember if tonight’s sky is clear.  

The blinds are closed and the lamp shines a warm light across my room.  I hear some wind outside.

My warm sweater is keeping me very comfortable and I snuggle deeper into it.  The days have been very cold and there is no doubt that there is still some glittering snow clinging onto the dry grass.

I don’t think much of this irrelevant message from this unknown person.  I put down my phone, as well as the book I was reading, and decide to rest my eyes for a bit.

Ding!

Ding!

I open my eyes and the phone screen is flashing with the arrival of new text messages.  I would like to think they’re from some friends, but I have a feeling that they aren’t when the notifications continue.

Ding!

Ding!

My phone screen is ablaze with the onslaught of new messages.  I take a look.  They all say the same thing: “What a beautiful night out now.”

Ding!

Ding!

What a beautiful night out now.  Hm.  Earlier, I received a text telling me to not look at the moon.  Strange.

It is probably nothing; most likely just a prank.  I suddenly realize the text messages have stopped coming in.  I hope that whoever is pranking me has moved on to another person to bother.

The newfound silence is slightly eerie.  It feels like the air has been filled by a dark, translucent lace.  The delicate material is creeping along the walls of the room, crawling into dark corners, reaching towards me.  It starts to wrap itself around me, my eyes, my mouth, my neck.

I shudder.  I pick up my phone and turn on some music.  The music chases away the nothingness that is hiding in the cracks and crevices of the room.  It relieves me from the feathery weight on my shoulders that was creating a persistent itchiness in the back of my mind.

I let out a little breath of air.  I shuffle my playlist and try to relax.

Ding!

Ding!

I was stuck in the ground

New messages start to arrive.  The fragile structure of calm that I had started to build suddenly gives way.  

It must really be a beautiful night out.  I’d like to take a look but.. I think I will take the person’s word for it.

Trying to cover my eyes

Ding!

Ding!

Whoever is doing this to me has a sick sense of humor.  Why am I feeling so apprehensive from these entirely insignificant text messages?  I’m quite silly for being spooked so easily.  If they knew how much this is unnerving me, the person behind this would be having a big laugh at my expense.

Trying to move all this light

I quickly slide off my bed and slide my feet into my warm slippers.  I walk over to the window and place my hands on the edges of the dark curtains.  I hesitate for a moment.

My fingers tighten on the soft fabric and I pull them apart, allowing a small sliver of moonlight to shine through.  It shines across the edge of the fabric and makes it appear dark crimson.

I spent all night

I close my eyes for a second.  I open them and resolutely pull the curtains apart.  I stare at the moon defiantly.

Trying to remember your face

The next morning, I wake up next to my brother’s bed.  I scream.  There is blood on the sheets, on his pyjamas, on him.

My parents run over.  They scream, and cry, and whimper, and sob.  They hug me and I hug them.

It’s amazing that I didn’t go through the same fate.  There’s blood on my shirt.  I must have been woken up by his screams and ran to help.  I don’t remember.

Like trying to get blood

I stay in bed all day.  There is an empty fog in my eyes, my thoughts, my heart.  Night arrives and I gaze out of my window.  The stars and the moon are shining so brightly.

From a stone

I wake up on a chair in my parents’ room.  My mother screamed, I think.  Red stains the bed covers and walls, and my father is still.

But there was nothing to save

Tears are falling fast from my eyes.  Everything is blurry and distorted.  There’s red on my hands.  Maybe it’s my tears.  I don’t know.  

And no one to lie to

We hadn’t thought of calling the police yet.  How silly.  We haven’t been thinking very straight.

And I watched as the bone dust hung in the sky

Cars screech and beep and men with IDs float in and out of my view.

Like a dim flock of endless prayers

Nothing.  They can’t find anything.

And I spent my days out chasing the wind

I hope they figure it out.  My mother and I are breaking into pieces.

Trying to turn gold from your hair

Tonight my mother and I are allowed to sleep together.  We haven’t bothered changing into pyjamas or closing the blinds.  I stare at the moon.

But there was nothing to save

So bright, so far away.  How is it like up there?  I wonder what it sees on this planet.  I’d like to see it too.

In the flux and decay

I dream I’m flying above the moon.  My back is to the earth and I am gazing at the moon.

I open my eyes and my hands are bound with chains.  My nails are red.  Two guards are watching over me.

Of the changing winds

What is happening?  I haven’t done anything, have I?  The guard is staring at me coldly.  I didn’t do anything.  How could I have?  They made a mistake.

I’ll try to gather my thoughts and then I’ll ask to talk to someone to convince them I haven’t done anything.  I feel so lonely.