I remember when I was a child, so long ago. I was so young and impressionable. I enjoyed life and all it had to offer. I used to love the moon then. I would just sit outside and watch it. It was so eery, yet somehow peaceful. Every phase enchanted me, crescent, half, waxing or waning, and even the full moon. I loved when it would change colors especially. Like every once in a blue moon, but my favorite was when it turned a blood-red. A harvest moon, my mum called it. I liked nothing more than sitting out on those brisk autumn nights, just staring up at that harvest moon. There was so much to be pondered about and I studied that moon for all of the answers in the life of a small child.
My harvest moon betrayed me though.
My mum warned me. It wasn't wise to go out at night. We lived by a dense wood, she told me that there were creatures in there that may harm me. My dad told her not to scare me, but he always agreed with her worries when the moon was bright and full. To me, at such a young age, I thought they were being unfair and overprotective. Watching the full moon through the window wasn't nearly the same as being outside with it. Sure, I too heard the same distant lonely howls as my parents, but those weren't going to hurt me. All I knew was that I was being deprived of my moon.
So one October night, when both my parents had gone to sleep and the moon was red, I grabbed my sweater, put on a pair of shoes, and snuck out of the house. I wandered into the woods where my parents couldn't see me should they awake and found a small clearing with a perfect view of the full moon. Lying in that clearing, my back to the cold hard ground, I pondered and I silently asked the moon questions it still refused to answer. I knew it knew them though, it was so mysterious, so I continued to plead with it with my eyes. I ignored the howls in the distance and continued to ignore them as they grew closer. I ignored my mother's shouts from the house, calling my name over and over. She sounded frantic and worried, but I didn't dare move. The moon owed me answers.
My harvest moon never gave me answers though. Instead it sent me something else. From the brush behind me issued a growl. I turned in time to see two yellow eyes glowing at me before I felt razor claws dig into my skin. I couldn't do anything. I was paralyzed in fear. The massive grey monster pinned me to the ground and I was too scared to even struggle. Then I felt fangs, huge sharp canine fangs sinking into my arm. It was then I screamed. I screamed from panic and from the pain, and from the fact that my moon had betrayed me. This monster cared nothing for my screams though, it just continued to tear at my skin with its claws and its teeth. My robes soon matched the color of the moon, dyed with my own blood. My screams died to a whimper, but someone else's were filling that void. I thought it might have been my mum, or maybe my dad or both. The monster was done feeding off me though and was slinking away, its jaws full of my blood. After that I can't remember, but the last thing I saw that night was the harvest moon mocking me from its far away perch.
I have never loved the moon since that night. I cower from it instead, hating that moon that tricked me, the one that sent me that monster who tortured me forever more beyond that night. I have never seen the full moon since that night with memory of it, but it still haunts me in my dreams. In life, I am forced to live by it without mercy. Knowing the moon cycle is like knowing the time and is equally as important. I live in constant fear, knowing that the monster that attacked a little boy so long ago now lives within me on the nights the moon is full.