The Hidden Child

Pain.

(Well, that's not a good way to start a story, and I'm going to point that out to you dear reader because that's what I do.)

I let out a choke as I fell to my knees, blood spluttered out of my mouth in drops as my eyes widened in horror. I felt the weapon sink into my body. Black spots swarmed over my vision. Waves of pain shot through me. I tried to let out a scream, but I couldn't take it I couldn't take it I couldn't take it! But I told myself that the body would soon shut down when the pain gets too unbearable, when the pain is too much.

I soon fell to the ground. And despite the noise of the people trying to get away from the riot was in the background, all I could hear was the horrified scream of a kid. The sound broke my already shattered heart.

. . . . . . . . .

My eyes are refusing to open.

(This is legitimate, it's like my eyes have their own commands like: I WILL NOT LET YOU SEE THE LIGHT OF DAY FROM NOW ON, FOOLISH MORTAL.)

I felt the cold stone ground beneath me and my lungs kept inhaling the moist, murky air around me. Where was I? Where were the other people? And where's my brother? Silence was wrapped around me like a blanket, and I couldn't hear a thing. I inferred that I was back at our infirmary, in a cozy bed, and trying to rest. And that my mother was gently caressing my head and my father was tending to my brother.

My eyes finally opened.

I was wrong.

(I was so wrong.)

I was still on the stone pavement of our village. It was nighttime and the air was foggy. Still, the murky fog had enhanced the bright moon above me, shining its bright light like always. Rubble was scattered around the street, carts with missing wheels that used to be full of fruit and goods were strewn about.

Panic consumed me, where was my brother? Is he safe? Are mother and father safe? Did they escape from the riot? I was scared scared scared so much I couldn't even bother to even think of myself. Did he see me… die? Impossible! If I were dead, why am I still alive breathing in this gross wind around me?

Buildings and establishments were now knocked down, and a ripped François flag was scattered near me. I was curious as to why it was here, because surely whoever saw the disrespect treated to the honorary flag chaos would ensure.

It WAS chaos.

(Although, as a child, I used to live in peace and prosperity. I have NO IDEA what chaos looked like, until now of course.)

Still, no human inhabitant was near.

(Except me of course, but I don't know if I'm still human.)

I sat up and winced at the soreness, how long have I been lying here? Hours… maybe? I looked up and saw my dearest, oldest friend shining his light on me.

Mr. Moonie, the Man in the Moon. What does he want now? Oh… maybe I can ask him where mother and father are! And… maybe he saved my brother as well.

I've known Mr. Moonie ever since I was a child. We always talked before I go to bed. He would tell me stories and I would never get tired from listening. Other children thought I was quite peculiar, though. But then again, who wouldn't? If you see a child looking out the window talking to the wind, wouldn't you wonder?

"Mr. Moonie?" I called out, finally standing up despite the small ache in my bones. I face the sky. "Mr. Moonie?"

He doesn't answer. I am quite surprised; he would always answer back when I called him, especially with his talkative attitude. But still, I call out.

"I am scared, Mr. Moonie. I am all alone, well, despite the fact that you're here with me. That's very nice. I just felt a spear lodge through my body a while ago! But alas, why am I still alive?" I felt myself babbling again, and I stopped myself. "But I need your help Mr. Moonie. Where is my brother? And… where are mother and father?"

The Moon was silent. But after a while…

"I'm so sorry, my dearest child."

Fear was a virus, spreading through my veins and sending my blood on fire.

"Your family is no longer suffering from personhood."

My knees buckled. My head shook in disbelief. I felt the surge of hope seep away from me rapidly, and I winced. I fell to my knees, and I realized how weak I was. Internally, and physically. Tears poured down my face in a narrow stream that refused to stop. Nothing came out of my mouth. No sound, no cry, no scream, no whimper, no nothing.

(Also, apparently, I had trouble breathing. This may be the reason why.)

The Moon's light wrapped itself around me, encasing me in light. I felt his metaphorical hands hug me, I felt secure and snuggly but my family was gone.

My family was gone.

Oh.

That thought was raw in my brain.

"I am so so so sorry, child. I have tried. Believe me."

I do believe him.

I wipe my tearstained face and stood up. My head was bowed down in grief. "B-But… why me? Why did you save ME?" A whimper escaped my throat. My knees gave out and I landed on my butt against the ground. "Chier!"* I instantly shriek, and mentally slap myself for cursing.

(Nobody know that I swear. So very hush hush)

The Moon was silent once again.

"I can't tell you yet my child."

For once in my life I want to sock somebody in their metaphorical gut.

"But you'll find out, soon. I have given you special abilities, child. You remember the magical spirits I always told you about?"

I nod, yes I do. He's always told me how he had magical powers and all that, after me swearing my life and my family's life not to tell ANYBODY, he told me about magical beings that he had created, including Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy, etc. He said they were to protect us human beings, or at least some of them do.

But… me? He had given me special abilities? Me, Addie, he's chosen me? A simple 12 year old child to roam the earth for all eternity?

"Well, you seem to be out of your mind." I huff, standing up and dusting myself off.

(I had no right to say that. Seriously, I talk to a giant rock in the sky.)

"Out of all the people here, you've given me powers?"

"I mean, it's a great privilege and all that." I say, looking back up at him. I could feel his poker face. "But my family has died even if I'M the one who was supposed to die. It's too much to take. And besides," I look away. "I'm nothing special. I am merely a child."

"You are more than what you think you are, child."

"Oh really, how so?" I shrug my shoulders up, balling my fists.

Suddenly, I heard a small thump directly next to me and I almost jumped. There, illuminated by the moonlight, a small burlap backpack lay. I glare at the Moon, because if that would've hit me I would go all mad man and throw it back at the sky. I heard him snicker.

I opened the bag, and was surprised by the first object that I see.

My bracelet. It was given to me by my mother. It was silver and beautiful charms hung from the chain, I remember her giving it to me for my birthday. I never took it off. I instantly put it back on, and sigh as I felt a small piece in my heart glue back to its place.

(Apparently, shattered heart pieces can be metaphorically put back together with a shiny metallic artifact)

I smile at the Moon, he remembered.

I dig through the bag, and find a small apple. I realized how starving I was. I took a bite, and dearest Moonie it was good. I took another bite.

"I suspected you were hungry."

"Oh, shut up." I snark, my mouth stuffed with munched apple bits.

I scavenged through the bag, and find a small piece of parchment paper. It was yellow with age and smelled oddly of lemon. I focused on the loopy, scratchy script.

The Hidden Child

I raise an eyebrow at the Moon. The Hidden Child? That was corny, but had a tone of slyness in it. Was this my title?

I dug through the bag again, and pulled out a coat. It looked warm and very, very, snuggly. I had begun to notice the cold and how it crept up to my bones and nipped at my heels. I pulled it on and my suspicion of it being snuggly was correct. It looks kind of thick but it felt light and free to move around with. The coat was brown and reached above my knees. It had buttons on and a hood, and it was warm enough for me to just try not to fall asleep, it was too comfortable. I loved it.

The last thing I hauled out of the bag was a music box. But this looked special. The box itself was engraved with gold and silver, beautiful swirls designed the box and a small handle poked out from the side. Attached to it was a porcelain glass bowl that was turned downwards so the mouth was glued to the roof of the box, and inside the bowl was a small ballerina figure. She had a pink frilly dress that flew in various directions and she had ginger hair tied up in a messy bun. Her hands were outstretched and she's on her tiptoes, the kind of pose only a ballerina could do.

It was beautiful.

I turned the handle.

Beautiful, sweet, sweet music gracefully swooped from the box and surrounded me. I closed my eyes and basked myself in the sweet music. The tune was small, like a child trying to call out. But it was strong and sweet, sweet enough to turn the heads of every passerby.

I sighed as soon as the music stopped. My grief and sadness was replaced by nostalgia and happy memories. I stuffed the rest of the things in the bag and slung it over my back.

"Think of it as a gift. Feel free to listen to the music box if you ever feel sad or lonely."

I stand up, the coat snuggling against my flesh and the wind fluttered against my face, sending my hair fluttering.

"I don't know why you did this, Mr. Moonie. But as my gratitude, I am obliged to do what I am supposed to do. I promise to not disappoint you."

And with that, I left.

It took years to learn what my powers are.

And years of understanding and frustration.

But still I wonder,

Is it really my destiny?

To stay on this planet?

Roaming 'till my life comes to end?