Calling of the Moon

My mother had always told me to stay away from the windows as soon as the sun began to set. Everyday is the same, I eat, I tend the garden, I feed the animals, I eat again, I bathe, I watch the sun begin to fade, then my mother slams the window close, and pulls at the black curtains. My house turns into a black abyss as the night comes. Every room shares the black curtains that keep any light from coming in. I often search up pictures of the night sky on the common room's computer. I stare at the night sky and the shining moon, from the computer screen.

Father has told me stories of when the night sky used to be safe. He tells stories of how he and his brothers would run through the corn field at night, playing a game of capture the leader. Father tells of the wind blowing through his brown hair, the plush grass under his feet, the night sky lighting their way. Then his face falls as he tells of how the shrilling scream echoed throughout the field. The moon had come to take take its first victim. My father and his brother, Darius, found their youngest brother mutilated in the corn field. Father tells of how his head was missing, a trophy taken by the moon.

News spread quite quickly of Ezria's death. The villagers rallied to the corn field, pitchforks and stakes invaded the green field. They shouted into the sky, threatened the moon, angered it. The moon retaliated.

Father watched from afar as the children of the moon came through the trees, and attacked. He watched as heads rolled on the ground, arms and legs hanging in the mouths of the moons children. Father ran. He ran home and locked the doors and windows, promising to never see the night sky again.

I am 20 years of age. 20 years I have not seen the sky, 20 years I have not experienced the freedom father felt when running on the plush grass. I watch as the sun began to go down; tonight everything would change.

Midnight came all too quickly. Father and mother slept cozily on their bed. I watched as their stomachs moved up and down rhythmically. My lips meet the forehead of my mother, then my father's. There is no promise that I will make it back, this is my goodbye. I placed my locket on the bedside table, a small keepsake to remember me by. I pray they do not forget me.

My fingers tingle as my hand reaches for the doorknob. My entire being was being called out by the moon; I could not ignore her call. The wind blows softly as the door opens. My feet step over the threshold that has kept me safe every night. My feet continue forward as i feel the soft, plush grass underneath my bare feet, this is what father spoke of. My eyes watch the beauty above me, her sweet call has lulled me to a stop. I watch her as the animalistic growls fill my ears, but I am not scared. The moon says she will protect me, and I believe her.

I watch as the animals make it out from the trees. A man appears with dog-like features, his shoulders wide and broad, his teeth long and sharp, his arms and legs hairy. He stands naked before me, embracing the moon that shines above him. He moves skillfully around me, scruntizing my appearance. I watch as the others follow closely behind him, he must be the leader.

My eyes move back to the moon as she calls to me again. I nod in understanding as her silent message passes through me. The leader of the moon children approaches me on all fours. His crooked nose inhales my scent as I stand and watch him work. His eyes flash red, then he howls in reply to the moon; he has accepted his gift.

Suddenly, I hear my name called. My head turns to find the man who has raised me, and the woman who has birthed me. They hold weapons in their arms, approaching with much fear. They call my name again, they want me to come back to them, but i cannot. The moon has chosen me to lead alongside the leader of her children. The wolf-man stares at me with his gleaming red eyes, a simple question asked, a simple answer in response.

I stand and watch the gruesome scene that unfolds in front of me. My father tries to fight but we all know he wouldn't make it. I watched as his arms were ripped from his body, two of the moon children playing a game of tug-of-war with it. My mother's haunting scream booms through the trees, her leg was being ripped off. I watched as the blood burst from her little body. Her blood matched the red eyes of the leader. Tears ran down my father's face as his wife was laying in a pool of her own blood. I could see all the pain that ran through him, luckily his head was the next thing gone. I no longer had to see the pitiful sight.

I sat on the ground and waited patiently for the moon children to finish their meals. Soon, it was time to go. I followed them into the trees, my new life waited for me on the other side of the mountains. My feet trudged through the mud, a humming tune leaving my throat; so this was peace?

If only father would have listened to me and let me go back to my creator, this could all have been avoided. I am a child of the moon, how dare he keep me from her!

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