Full Moon

I am terrified of the full moon.

And there’s one tonight.

In 30 minutes.

I stare at the clock. 6:01 Stand up. Pace around. There is nothing worse than a full moon. It is when everything good in my life is taken away.

Someone knocks on my door. “Kiera,” my best friend, Rose, says, “why is your door locked? You never lock it. Or close it.”

I’m on my feet in an instant, opening the door. “Hey,” I tell her, forcing a smile. “I didn’t hear the doorbell.”

She sighs. “I wanted to surprise you, since it’s your birthday. Your father let me in quietly. But your locked door kind of ruined it.”

“Do I even want to know what you were going to do to my room?”

She shakes her head. “No. You’ll have another birthday next year.” She sits down on my bed. “I put a chocolate cake in your fridge, by the way. I tell you now because I’m afraid your dad’s going to eat it. He was eying it like crazy.”

I glance at the clock. 6:07. “Rose, I’m so sorry about this, but I need to be alone today. I’m not feeling very well and I don’t want you to catch my cold.”

“That’s why you were absent today? I thought you were taking a birthday day.”

If only. I’d spent the day prepping for the full moon. Like I did every month. When people ask why I miss school for a few days each month, I tell them it's cramps. The forged doctor’s note in the nurse’s room seriously helps my case.

Only my dad knows the truth.

“Earth to Kiera,” Rose says, turning on the TV. Making herself comfortable.

“Rose, seriously. You can’t be here tonight.”

“You’re not sick, Kiera. You know what that means? You were taking a birthday day.” She’s scrolling through the movies on NetFlix. “Hmm. Any preferences?”

6:12. I’m considering picking her up and carrying her to the doorstep. Taking a deep breath, I grab the remote out of her hand. “Rose, I’m in a bad mood, okay? I can’t be around people right now. I’m just going to end up screaming at you for something stupid. Then, cry for, like, an hour afterwards because of that hurt look you’ll give me. So, please, just go. I’ll see you tomorrow in English.”

She sighs. “I’m leaving. Don’t worry.”

6:14.

Rose stands and walks out of the room. “We’re celebrating tomorrow night, though. I don’t care if you scream at me or cry - that just means we won’t be leaving the room. You’ll just have to put up with watching NetFlix and eating my awesome, homemade cake.”

I laugh as I close the door behind her. And lock it.

6:17.

I turn off the TV. Go back to my pacing.

God, I hate full moons.

6:20.

I grab a knife from under my bed. Then, sit on top of it. I stare at the flowers that cover my sheets and blankets.

Another knock. “Kiera,” my dad says, “did you want any cake?”

“No, thank you,” I call through the door.

I imagine him nodding and walking away.

6:26.

I stare at the door. I’m waiting for the screaming that signals that my nightmare has begun.

“Full moons,” I whisper, thinking about the song my mom used to sing to me on nights like these.

She would come into my room. Lock the door behind us. Hold this same silver knife in her hands and tell me everything was fine. When the screaming started, she would sing into my ear:

“They’re innocent. A victim to the full moon,” I sing quietly, again and again.

She died by a “victim’s” hand. Protecting me.

6:31.

A scream fills the house.

I draw my knees tighter against my chest. Stare at the door. Hopefully, I’m left alone. Usually, I am. But not always.

Then, there’s crying. There’s always crying. I’d imagine having your skin ripped to shreds would do that to a person.

Suddenly, the house is silent.

I roll the knife around in my hand.

All I can hear is my breathing.

All I can think about if whether or not my locks will hold.

Last time, they didn’t.

I only survived because the sun took the place of the full moon. But if the locks are broken in the middle of the night….

I swallow. Loudly.

I look down at my hands.

They’re shaking.

“You’ll be fine,” I whisper to myself. The words come from my mouth in the form of a breath. “Mother taught you how to fight. And you’ve done it before.”

I wish I could do something to pass the time, but a single distraction could get me killed.

So, I glance between the clock and door like my life depends on it.

6:39.

I just need to last until 12:36 a.m. Technically, it’s more like 12:31 a.m., but I like to add 5  minutes to the time, just to be safe.

God, I am so bored.

Sometimes, I think death is preferable to boredom.

I hear another scream.

And it’s not the usual one.

What the hell?

I stand and move close to the door.

Listening through the door like my life depends on it.

Yup. Definitely Rose.

I swear quietly.

My knife moves in my hands.

I could go out there. Possibly get us both killed. Or stay here and let her definitely die.

The world is cruel.

I swallow. And unbolt the door.

It would be nice if I had a plan. But all I’ve got is this: save Rose.

Like she saved me.

After my mother’s death, she had been the only person who understood, having lost her mother, too. She listened to me. Helped me through the denial, grief. She hadn’t pushed me to talk about it, but rather just been there. Been a friend. She’d been my rock through it all.

I stand outside my door. Listening to the screaming.

This seems like a good time to make a plan. Maybe. Hopefully.

I walk past my father’s empty room. Try not to look at the skin that covers the carpet. Or the blood that stains it.

The screaming is coming from the living room, I conclude, my movements slow while I try to come up with a plan.

I could stab him with the knife. But that would kill him. And I don’t want him dead.

I love him too much to kill him. It’s not his fault he’s like this.

I could grab Rose and run, but he’s faster than both of us.

I could… I don’t know.

I swallow. Do I have to chose between the two of them? Decide who gets to live? Can Rose only be saved if he dies? Can he only survive if I don’t try to get to Rose?

Breathe, I tell myself, you are semi - smart; you can figure something out.

The screaming stops. And I freeze.

So long as she was screaming, it was definite that she was alive.

Now… she could be dead.

I take off running to the living room. I shouldn’t have stopped to try to come up with a plan! I was trying to be smart, but I might’ve just gotten us both killed.

My movements barely seem to register as I move through the house. Please, Rose, I silently beg. Maybe there really is someone out there that can hear me. That can save her.

In the living room, a wolf with dark brown fur is staring at a body that’s sprawled out on the ground.

Wait.

Oh, god.

That’s the skin of Rose.

And next to the bloody pile, is a small wolf with gray fur.

I swallow. And run back to my room.

But I’m not fast enough.

I hate the full moon.

It has a way of taking everything from me.

The End