Posted in The Path of Moonlight, Writing Endeavors

The Path of Moonlight: 1

It took me longer to get this up than I thought because I forgot all about it. Oops… And now I get it out on Christmas Eve? Ah well. At least it’s not Christmas. Today’s not a holiday so it’s still fair game.

This is my newest writing endeavor. Like I mentioned in my last post, I’m just having some fun. I’ll do my best to get them out in weekly installments but no promises.

======== The Path of Moonlight ========

I dreamt I could walk on the light of the moon.  The full moon’s light would shine down on the world and I would see the path that no one else could.  The glowing path that would lead me up to the moon and back to my family.  My family.  The sensible part of me knew it wasn’t true, but it argued in silence with my other half – the half that believed in everything unseen.  I learned early on in my childhood that it wasn’t smart to voice this knowledge.  If I did, I’d end up locked in the crawl space under the house.  It didn’t take much for this to happen though.

My mother mete out the punishments.  That is, she called herself my mother but I don’t believe she ever was.  I can’t believe it.  I studied my face in the mirror till I knew every line, every freckle, and then I would study hers.  When she wasn’t looking of course.  I could see no similarities.  I’d do the same with my father.  The difference was even more noticeable there.  Still they called themselves my parents.

I was home-schooled until high school when they were sure I wouldn’t hint to anyone the things that happened behind closed doors.  They rarely hit me and didn’t speak to me if they could help it.  The good days were when I was ignored.  They were more often than not but I spent untold hours in the crawl space under the house.  Perhaps I said the wrong thing, did the wrong thing, wore the wrong thing, acted the wrong way.  Like I said, they didn’t need much reason to send me to that cold, dark place.

It was in high school where I learned that normal parents don’t do the things they did.  I didn’t have any friends; I didn’t want any friends.  What was the point?  I listened to their conversations and knew I wouldn’t fit in or be accepted.  How could I when I had never done any of the things they did?  I didn’t go to the movies or hang out with people, didn’t listen to music or follow fashion trends.  I read textbooks for school and knew nothing about the latest book that was “all the rage” among the students.  It took me a few weeks to even understand phrases like “all the rage” and the common “what’s up” that everyone said to each other.  But I’m used to paying close attention to people in order to understand my guardians’ moods.  If I could do that well, why did I get sent to the crawl space so often?  They were unpredictable.  They didn’t need a reason to send me; they’d make one up and off I went.

It was from the other students that I learned about the idea of running away too.  I heard some of them speaking about it one day.  She hated her parents because they were strict and never let her do anything.  Her plan was to run away.  She was sixteen and apparently this meant something to her and her friends because they all gave her vocal support and said she was “totally old enough to take care of herself.”  Maybe she could come stay with some of them in turns.  That got them excited as they talked about how much fun they’d have, that it’d be like a sleepover.  When one of them was sure her parents wouldn’t mind taking her in, the others would chime in that theirs wouldn’t mind either.  The last one went so far as to say her parents would love the idea of having another daughter.

I didn’t know if any of it was true, but I did notice that the next day in class the potential runaway was excited about some new phone her parents had gotten her.  She rolled her eyes about their rule that the phone was only for emergencies and demanded her friends’ phone numbers so she could text them…which they started doing during that same class.

That night after I was lying in the dirt in the crawl space with a flashlight and a textbook (my guardians didn’t want my grades to drop), I thought about the girl’s idea to run away.  She had complained her parents were strict and never let her do anything and her friends had agreed, but had she ever been locked away in the cold and dirt under the house?  Did her parents ignore her or tell her she was an unnatural abomination that should’ve been drowned at birth?  I doubted it.  Yet she had thought to run away.

That was when the seed took root in my mind.

======== End of First Installment ========

I hope you enjoyed this first installment of The Path of Moonlight and will continue to read future installments.

Merry Christmas!




I believe in living life and not letting it pass you by. I mean, come on, if you really want to do something but don't have the courage to do it so you let the opportunity disappear, you may regret it for the rest of your life. How can you know what you're capable of unless you go for it? Like every writer, I naturally plan on becoming world-famous (not really). I love reading, writing, fitness, coffee, watching my favorite movies/shows, listening to music, and trying new things even if they're sometimes terrifying. I'm a writer, a group fitness instructor, a personal trainer, and a nutter for doing all of the above.

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