Scarlet Moon

I hate my life. My parents walked into the house and told me the most terrible thing a girl could hear in the middle of a school year, “We’re moving,” they said in unison as they locked the front door, almost making me drop Mason, my little brother, on the tile floor. “WHAT? WHY?,” I screamed at the top of my lungs, scaring Mason.
“Sissy are you okay?” Mason said, looking at me worried.
“Yeah sisters fine. Sorry.” I told my him I was okay, but as I said it I didn’t take my eyes off my parents. If looks could kill my parents would’ve been dead right then and there.
The next day the whole family piled into My mother‘s giant, yellow, van. I swear you could’ve spotted it a mile away it looked like a freaking taxi. I buckled my brother, Mason, into his booster seat then laid down on the leather seat, forcing myself to sleep.

After about an hour I felt little fingers tapping my eyelids. “Scar, are you awake?” My five year old brother asked.
“No.”
“Wake up,” Mason whined, “We almost there. Momma said wake up!” He poked my forehead really hard while talking which made me open my eyes. I mean who would be able to sleep while a kid poked their head? Definitely not me.
I stretched my arms and sat up in the seat. “Scar, look out the window!” my mom exclaimed. I turned my head and saw that the buildings had diminished and fields were rolling in. As we kept driving I thought to myself, ‘Scarlet, I don’t think we’re in Beverly Hills anymore.’
All the sudden the car pulled off of the gravel road and into a driveway. I tried to look at the house but a thick cloud of dust blocked my view. When the air was finally clear again I looked up and tried not to scream. In front of me was a giant house that looked like it hadn’t been lived in for 100 years. The white paint on the house was chipped and a ugly off white color. When I looked up I could see inside the dusty attic and could tell it was crawling with bugs. Every window had big green shutters and there was a giant, wooden green door. The house gave me the creeps.

A week later I was sitting in my room lying on the bed and had been in my room the whole day. I was scared to go down the stairs because they were really messed up. I looked outside my cracked window and saw the bright moon shining against the night sky. I was amazed at its beauty and couldn’t avert my gaze; it was like the moon was calling me. I could hear its voice echoing in the back of my mind and got closer and closer to the window. I couldn’t take it anymore I had to go outside. I could feel the moon pulling me like I was about to crash through the window. I stretched my arms and let out a loud, long yawn. Slowly I climbed off of my giant red bed and tiptoed to the door trying not to wake my parents.
All the sudden I heard a crash. When I walked into the hallway it was dark and the only light was coming from an ancient looking candle, the flames flickering shadow dancing on the wall. I kept walking forward until I reached the giant brown stairs. There were cracks and holes everywhere in them and they were old and creepy. When you step on them you feel as if you would fall at any minute. I took one step to test the stairs and started walking down. Every time I put my foot down the step would creak, causing me to flinch. Finally I reached the bottom and let out a breath I hadn’t noticed I was holding. When I got outside I walked out into the middle of the yard and gazed at the moon again. It had a red tint to it and seemed like it was getting closer. I sat down on the steps by the door and let the moon get closer and closer to me, hoping it would come close enough for me to jump on and ride away.
I stayed outside for about an hour just staring at the moon. When I got tired I stood up and walked towards the house and as I shut the giant door out the corner of my eye I saw a figure clad in the darkness walk out of the main gate in front of our mansion.