Cast Away Luna

Ten Years Before I observed them remove my mother's body from behind the couch. Even I could see it wasn't my mother anymore; she was simply a shriveled shell of the person she had been before she passed away. Everyone kept their voices low so as not to rouse "the youngster" or draw my notice. My mother, it was said, had a rare disease that was growing in notoriety among werewolves, and she was in grave condition. I failed to comprehend it. I didn't grasp the medical jargon or the justifications given for her condition, and I didn't understand how she passed away. Why would the Moon Goddess separate me from my mother? The moment my mother's body was out of sight, I felt hot tears starting to gather in my eyes. She was gone. I would never see her again. She would never braid my hair, read her novels to me, or comfort me during storms, ever again. It was just me and daddy now. At least I still had him Once all the people had left, I crept out of the shadows and went searching for my father. He was a stern man, but he loved mother and me. We were both hurtings now, but we had each other. I rounded the corner to his office, following the dim light of his desk lamp, and found him seated in his chair with a glass of brown liquid pressed to his lips. I could see, even from the hallway, that his eyes were bloodshot, and his hair was disheveled. I quietly entered the room, not wanting to startle or upset him further. When I was finally within arms- reach, I gently rested my hand on his shoulder, wanting to comfort him and feel some kind of comfort in return. My mother had always been the comforter in the family. His head jerked sharply in my direction, his eyes dark and full of anger. A low growl gradually erupted from the back of his throat, and in one swift movement, he reached out and struck me across the face with the back of his hand. "Don't touch me, bastard child!" father yelled, allowing his glass to drop to the floor and shatter. I stood there, both frozen and dumbstruck. My father's demeanor and actions caught me off guard and caused me to lose myself further to the negative thoughts and emotions that had been consuming my mind. I'd seen daddy angry before but never like this. He was angry with me. He looked at me as if I was the cause of his pain and suffering…had I somehow been the cause of his mother's death? Of all the pain I was enduring, that thought hurt worst of all. Little did I know; the pain was only just beginning.