THE REBELLIOUS LUNA

"Not again!" Gilda groaned, picking up the red object. "Diane has left her inhaler behind. Roy!" "Mom!" A lanky, bright-eyed boy ran into the room. "Look, Roy, this is your sister's inhaler. Her only source of life as it stands. I want you to take this to her in the train station. I believe by now she must be looking —" Just then her phone screamed. "It must be her calling," said Roy. Gilda nodded briskly and answered the phone. "Diane dear." "Mom, I can't find my inhaler anywhere here," Diane's voice cried on the phone. "It's here," Gilda said, "and I'm about to send Roy to bring it to you." "Please, beg him to run like the wind and take the first cab he sees. There are no pharmacists here to buy another." "Hang on, my dear. He is on his way." She hung up and wrapped the inhaler in a paper back. She gave it to him along with the transport fare. "I'd leave this to you, Roy," she said. "You're the fastest runner I know." She patted his hair and nudged him away. "Go." Roy sprinted off. Just then, an amused female voice spoke from a bedroom. "She's always forgetting to get an inhaler. Maybe she just wants to kill herself. I would advise we let her do that in peace." "Keep your mouth shut, Lora," Lora's stepmom said. "That's your sister you're talking about." "Step-sister, mind you." She came out, a chubby girl with mysterious eyes, whose father had brought home two years after their marriage, saying it was his daughter, born to him in his first marriage. She was the same age as Diane. "Where are you heading to again?" Gilda asked. "Yesterday you returned after midnight." "Ain't we werewolves nocturnal?" she asked, spreading her arms. "That's not the point. I want to know where you are going." "It's none of your business, Gilda." She rolled her eyes and walked out of the door. Gilda bit her finger. This was getting out of hand. If anything bad happened to Lora, her father, Gilda's husband, was going to kill her. Gilda quickly got into less conspicuous attire, and, being a renowned stalker, trailed Lora. * Roy was indeed a fast runner for a 15-year-old. He ignored his friends who called out to him from their windows, their eyes wide with a sense of urgency. It was probably for videogames or drinks. But Roy knew the assignment. Diane's life was in his hands. When he got to the bus stop where he was to find a cab, he was surprised that the streets were unusually quiet. He also didn't notice that he hadn't seen many people as he ran. What was wrong? Monday was supposed to be the busiest day in the town. He began to panic. He needed a cab directly to get to the train station. There was no way he could run five miles and still meet up. He rounded a corner and there, before his eyes, was the reason for the curfew in town. The street before him was full of people, but they were all lying down, hands on their heads. The few who were on their feet had red uniforms. Soldiers. Lord Darock's fiends, rumored to be more cold-hearted than the monarch himself. Roy stopped, and hid behind a wall. A lump of fear rose in his stomach. How was he to go through to the next bus stop with this? He also saw that all the cabs were jam-packed there. Roy realized that his friends had been calling his name, not because of video games, but to warn him about that... Lord Darock was in the middle of the crowd, a very huge man was addressing them. Roy craned his ears to hear him. "I am most displeased that a tiny part of my town decided to spite me," he said, his voice carrying the terror he was known for. "To drag my name in the mud, and to say to my face that I'm worth nothing." He paused and scanned the crowd. If he found anyone moving, Roy knew he was going to shoot the person dead. Darock continued. "So, a group of you had the guts to tell the girl I'm planning to get married to one of my princes, that she should decline the offer. What nonsense!" Roy cringed. Was that the reason for causing such a destructive curfew? Jesus, he groaned and began to think of a way out. Diane was waiting. She was probably having an asthma attack now. He looked around him and caught a figure moving towards him. It was too late to run. "You'll lose your tiny legs" if you step an inch," the soldier said, pointing a double-barrel g*n down at Roy. "Now head over and join the rest." "But I'm just a child," Roy said. "I don't know about anything happening —" A slap tore across his face. "Join them and you will understand!" the soldier barked. "Just a child on my foot." Holding his cheek as the tears gathered, Roy walked towards the crowd. "Lie down," said the soldier. Roy did, making sure not to break the inhaler with his weight. But it could be of no use. Diane was in big trouble. * Diane saw a boy running towards the train station and, for a moment, she thought it was Roy. Her heart lifted, and crashed back into her stomach. It was a newspaper vendor. What the hell was keeping Roy? The woman sitting beside her noticed her restlessness. "Waiting for someone?" she asked. "Yes, man," Diane said. "My brother." "He's to be on the same train?" "No, but he's got something... very important to give to me." "I just hope it isn't as important as you make it look, because there's bad news." Diane's eyebrows squeezed. "What bad news?" "Darock's caused an unnecessary curfew again, and there are no movements. My friend managed to text me this from her window in a hotel." "Dear, that man's excesses are getting too much," Diana said. "Isn't there some plan whatsoever to dethrone him? When will this nonsense ever end?" "Mind your tongue, lady," a man seated opposite them hissed. "You ain't gonna say any s**t that comes into your tongue about my king." Diane sized him up with the corner of her eyes. He looked like a h****n addict. She ignored him, and just then, the train crawled in, bringing with it an unholy dust that hit Diane's nostrils. Immediately, she felt her breath taken away from her. Her eyes grew rounder. She tried to breathe in, but her windpipe met a blockade. She fell to the ground. The woman saw this. "Any doctor here?" she screamed. There was an uproar. The train rushed, the young lady on the floor. The absence of any doctor. The heroine bent over Diane, baring brown teeth. "Ha!" he said. "That's what you get for blasphemy, you brunette cunt." Diane shut her eyes, seeing her own death hover around her face. "Roy, please..." she muttered.