Moon bound with Love

My Life- Shortly

If only I had known then what I know now, I would have paid closer attention to the signs that were right in front of me. I always knew there was something strange about me, but I overlooked it. After all, the cool kids had nicknamed me “Geek of all Geeks, Emmy.” I remember being so swift at answering algebra questions but too slow when it came to running. My entire gym class would burst out laughing when they saw me trip while trying to catch the basketball.

I recall one time during a quiz when I answered all the questions so fast (that’s where the nickname “Geek of all Geeks, Emmy” came from), but then during the track event, I finished last and passed out on the finish line. The whole school laughed at me. My braces and big glasses certainly didn’t make it any easier.

During the summers, everything felt normal—or at least as normal as life at a place like Westbrick High could be. It was nestled deep in the suburbs of the big city, surrounded by dense woods and cliffs that no local would dare approach. Westbrick was the school of the elite. The kids who attended belonged to secret societies. From Hollywood actors and directors to models and politicians, their parents were people you dared not speak ill of, or you’d end up in places you’d never expect— but that’s a story for another day.

How did I end up at that school, you ask? My dad was a football coach when Mr. Jethus found him. He had just won the Oklahood state championship against the mighty Oaks of Oklahood. As for Westbrick, they hadn’t made it past the quarterfinals in 40 years. Mr. Jethus, who had attended the school, wanted my dad to help his son thrive and be like him— a renowned football player- he had to keep the family name running in the football would. Needless to say- his son was so bad at football the legacy would have just died sooner at this point . So, he approached my dad with a tempting offer, and that’s how we moved to the big city of 'Centuries.'

Back to summers and winters. During the winter, I couldn’t sleep. I could hear noises whispering my name, and the voices always said, “You are the Luna,” and I would run straight toward the forest, confused. Every morning, I’d wake up sweaty, tired, and cold. I hated the winters.

I loved painting, and the only images that came to mind were of the forest and a woman raising her child or me leading a pack of wolves. So, I’d draw these strange things, making my geek life even harder.

I only told my best friend, Camilla. She was the one person i trusted with all my secrets including my long time crush on Jake.

There was one time I woke up with scratches, and instead of being scared, she’d stare at me and say, “Bestie, why would you scratch yourself and blame it on dreams?” She was so unfazed— a little too unfazed. Did she know something I didn’t?

There was also the janitor. I felt like she wasalways following me, watching my every move. Why would someone be at every place I went? She was loved by everyone, but something about her didn’t sit right. It was like she was protecting me... or stalking me. It was a thin line.

I remember one day, on my thirteenth birthday, during gym class, it suddenly became dark, and I immediately lost consciousness. Dad came and picked me up right away and took me to my grandma’s house. She gave me a cold drink, and I felt better. We never spoke of that day again. My dad brushed it off like nothing happened.

My dad and I had a strange relationship. I could sense that he didn’t enjoy questions that pushed him into a corner, so I didn’t ask. He’s a gentle guy, soft-spoken and calm. He enjoys his cold beer after game night while watching the replay over and over. But during the game, the beast comes out. He speaks loudly and in a not-so-gentle manner. He never allows room for mistakes and pushes his players above and beyond. We were super close and talked about everything, but never about Mom— she was the one person Dad never talked about, good or bad. That was one unspoken rule.

My grandmother, on the other hand—my mom’s mom— was full of love and life. She only hated hospitals. I’d never visited one. “Why would my only granddaughter go to the hospital when I can make her my classic herbs and great soup?” she’d say in her calm, shaky voice— one you do not underestimate. She was strong and full of life. Her eyes were green, and her hands always felt cold. She walked with a slight bend and always said, “My child, this bend is why you are still alive.” I loved her to life, but I felt she had too many secrets, especially in her attic, where no one was allowed to enter— especially during the winter.