Moon chapter one
"Get out!" I screamed in anguish, trying desperately to push the larger person out of my room. He smacked me hard across the face and I yelped, falling to the
floor. "You're not going out for two weeks! No parties, no friends, nothing!" The harsh brown eyes spied my iPod and laptop and strode forwards, grabbing
them and beginning to leave the room. "And none of these for three weeks." I sobbed and clutched at my face as he closed the door behind him and locked it.
Tears slicked my reddened cheeks. I gasped and ran to the window, pressing my cheek against the cold glass. I felt the soft flesh begin to swell. After a few
minutes, I backed away and fell onto my bed, leaving frozen tear smudges on the window pane. I could hear the man downstairs, muttering loudly to himself
and throwing things. I wiped my face with the back of my hand and tried to calm down. I knew I shouldn't be crying. I should be used to it by now. I stood and
tiptoed back to the window, staring out into the dark night. I sighed. I shouldn't be opening my window, he would feel the draft, but I pushed my blankets up
against the crack in the door and went back to the window before quietly sliding it open. I leaned out into the cool air, taking several deep breaths. "Why do I
live here still?" I asked myself. I looked down. "I could run away... He'll probably be passed out in a few hours and I could leave..." I shook my head. "Fat
chance, you've always had the opportunity, you're just a coward." I exhaled. I closed my window and knelt down next to my bed. I pried up a floorboard and
pulled out a few books that I had... My favorite books. They were the only things I had of my mothers, and I would believe every word she wrote in them. I
flipped open the first page as I sat on my bed. Next to the title she'd written, 'To my dear daughter, with the love of a mother and friend. With these books I
leave you the most important thing besides family- belief. As long as you believe, you will have joy. I love you, daddy loves you, and they love you.' I'd long
since scratched out the part about my father loving me, because he didn't. I glared at the door. 'Damn bastard...' I thought bitterly. I read the title of the book
again. 'Glow bright for me.' I turned the page to see an illustration of a moon shining above a small house. 'Mommy, he's smiling at me!' The familiar words
coursed through my head and I smiled. 'Yes honey, do you know who it is?' The book described the girl shaking her head. 'No, who is it?' 'It's the Man in the
Moon sweetie, say hi.' The next picture showed a girl waving happily up at the sky. 'Hi Manny!' Tears spilled from my eyes and I closed the book. I shifted the
other five books and glanced at each faded cover. 'The memory pearls', 'Golden Dreams', 'Magic in the air', 'A beginning for Hope', and my personal favorite,
'Those Frosty Patterns.' I picked up the blue book and rubbed my fingers over the engraved title. I opened it up and began to read it. It had no pictures, but it
spoke of the legend of Jack Frost, the bringer of winter, and it told a story about a small adventure he had. After a few minutes, I finished the book. I knew it
by heart. And to this day, I believed in him. In all of them in fact, which was, apparently, strange for a kid my age. I was teased, and it was the reason I had no
friends. It also gave my father another reason to hurt me. My head dropped to my chest. "Well, those are three words you don't want going together." I
murmured. Father hurt me. I shook my head and lay down on my bed after shoving the books under my pillow. I heard the phone ring downstairs and listened
as my father picked it up and answered. After a few moments, I heard him yell into the phone, "Damn you! You will not get away with this!" I heard the phone
slam down onto the hook and he stomped up the stairs. I rushed to check if my books were fully hidden before he unlocked and threw open the door. "Start
packing your stuff. We're moving." I inwardly groaned. He left the room and I stood, not wanting to be slapped again. We were always moving. It was due to
my father's gambling problem, and he was constantly stealing money from whatever job he got, along with other minor crimes. He'd threatened me to not ever
breathe a word, and after I did once, he made sure I understood him. I rubbed my lower back, feeling ghost pain shoot through my nerves. I shoved my few
clothes into a duffel bag along with my books, which I hid at the very bottom. If my dad found them, he'd burn them. He didn't want anything to do with the
memory of my mother. I took my sketchbook and my school books, putting them on top with my very little bag of colored pencils. I looked around the room, my
eyes tearing up again. It was pathetic. That was all that I owned. I went out into the hall and walked silently down the stairs, knowing better than to disturb
my abuser. I sat downstairs, listening to the grumbling and shouting of my furious father. After about an hour, he came down the stairs, his suitcase and bag
trailing after him. He glared at me. "Let's go." He said. I got up and followed him out the door. "Where are we going?" I couldn't help asking. He whipped
around and I flinched, afraid that he was going to strike me again. Instead, he replied, "Did I give you permission to ask questions?" I shook my head rapidly.
He sighed, exasperated. "We're moving into a house next to my brother's wife." He leaned close to my face, and I could smell the disgusting cologne. "And she
doesn't know anything about what I do, either for our lives, or for what I do for you. So I swear, if you say anything..." He let the menacing words hang heavy
in the air. I nodded yet again and he huffed. "Good. Get in the car." I hopped into backseat and buckled my seatbelt. He revved up the engine and sped down
the dark street. 'For what I do for you... Ha. Yeah, because I'm going to grow up to be a great parent. Just like you dad.' I thought with sarcasm. I stared out
the window and noticed a flickering light in my fathers old window. My breath caught in my throat. 'He set the curtains on fire...' Just like last time. I watched
the flames catch until we rounded a corner and it was lost from my sight. As we left the town, I saw smoke curl up into the night air as sirens began to blare
their alarms. I wondered where we were going and if someday, (preferably soon,) I could get out of this "family" and find my place. A place where I would truly
belong. Maybe a miracle would happen. You never know.
