Cry for the Moon

I shot up from my sleep, finding myself in the blackest darkness. I cursed under my breath, running a hand through my hair as I shook myself awake.

”Not agai-“ I jumped as something wrapped around my waist. I turned quickly to try and see what was there, but instead, ran into something.

“Ana?” Mark’s sleepy voice met my ears, bringing my mind’s racing to a halt. The lamp on the table suddenly flickered to life, it’s light burning my eyes.

“Analii,” Mark questioned again. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” I replied quietly.

“You don’t sound so sure. Is it another bad dream,” he asked. I nodded stiffly, rubbing my eyes as I sat up.

“I’m fine,” I persisted.

“Do you want to talk about i-“

“No,” I interrupted sharply. A look of surprise crossed his face at my tone of voice.

“Ana,” Mark reached out, placing a hand lightly on my shoulder. I turned to him, but when I saw the concern showing in his eyes, I roughly shrugged his hand off, getting up.

“I’m fine Mark,” I sighed, trying desperately to get my mind under control. I’d taken to heart what Roy had said the other night about anxiety over my nightmare, and now that I had finally had it, I wasn’t expecting that voice to come back… but it was still in my mind, in my head, haunting my thoughts, and now it was bringing old nightmares, memories and pain with it? Something just wasn’t right about all of this. Some of these old thoughts and nightmares hadn’t plagued me in years, not since I’d started going on tour with Thomas and the guys, but I guess, in a way, this all kind of made sense, especially considering…

No.

These things were not connected. They couldn’t be, could they? It’d been so long since that night… or maybe it just seemed that way.

“Ana?” Mark’s voice met my ears again, but my mind was too scattered and unfocused to care that he was saying anything at all, let alone trying to get my attention.

“I’m fine, Mark,” I repeated, absentmindedly reach up to touch his hand, which had found its way back to my shoulder.

“Just don’t worry about it, Mark. Go back to sleep,” I added, shrugging off his concern once more. I made my way through the dark, aimlessly wandering around various pieces of furniture, stuck in a state between sleep and awake. My mind was racing, however, my limbs hung heavy and I slugged around, a sleepiness plaguing me. I wanted to sleep, but sleep was beginning to evade me more and more. The depravation was starting to catch up, but I would be fine, so long as these dreams didn’t get worse. Maybe I could just block them out like I had before, but Thomas had helped me then…

I need to talk to Thomas, I thought to myself, making my way into the studio. I sat down in the computer chair, thinking to myself. Different thoughts and memories rushed through my mind, however, one in particular kept coming up, playing from the depths of my conscious mind like a movie I’d seen too many times.

The bell above the door rang and chimed as people came and went, but we ignored it, talking on as if no one was around. We’d gotten coffee to warm us up from the cold of our walk outside, and we’d been here in this little café ever since. For the last hour we’d sat at our table, talking about anything and everything. Surely, we sounded strange to those around us, and we’d even earned second glances from those on their way out, but I did not mind. My friend, Elias, was an unusual person; he was well read in various scientific theories, different religions, philosophies and he could recite Shakespeare better than some people who’d spent most of their lives performing his works, but this did not make him strange.

Elias often spoke in riddles and his voice held an unwavering air of prestige, however Elias was a tolerant and patient person, though he was generally apathetic in nature. Elias had knowledge and maturity far beyond his age and people were often surprised to find out that he was only eighteen, a year older than I. Usually, I could hold a good conversation with him, a conversation that was of course, always intellectual. Despite this, there were times when I couldn’t even understand him.

What Elias held in knowledge and maturity, he lacked in wisdom and emotion. Elias had a very apathetic and platonic nature. Though he cared deeply for me and what remained of his family, love meant very little to him, as did other emotions, but love was something Elias often dubbed ‘ignominious.’ Due to this, he lacked, as he put it, a solicitous view of the world, a view that I apparently had. He said that this made me unique, but he also said that, that could be my downfall, whatever that meant.

We were now talking about something Elias had heard someone say earlier about religious freedom being pointless when everyone tried to force each other’s religions on each other anyway.

“I see his point,” I replied. “Honestly, the only thing causing separation with religion are the things people believe. You take away all these different beliefs and you’ve got millions and millions of people praying to one ‘god’, one higher power which is merely just a comfort thought, a source of power when we’re too weak, or lazy for that matter, to search for it within ourselves, or within those that share the same red blood as us,” I explained. Elias nodded in agreement.

“Man is the only animal who enjoys the consolation of believing in a next life; all other animals enjoy the consolation of not worrying about.”

“And who said that,” I asked with a laugh, already knowing the answer.

“Robert Brault,” Elias replied with a smile. “But you knew that.”

I smiled to myself as the memory of his quiet laugh filled my head. Elias always quoted various philosophers, so I’d learned to memorize his words. Mark often reminded me of Elias with his opinions and thoughts on the world, on people, and I assumed that this was why Mark and I had become such good friends.

Somewhere in time, I will find you and love you again…

I sat up, reaching for the computer to turn it on. As the screen lit up, I opened I-tunes, turning it to the song I had stuck in my head. Keeping the volume down low, I hummed along with the first few lines of Kamelot’s song ‘The Haunting’, trying my best to keep quiet. When the chorus kicked in, I absentmindedly started to sing along, matching my voice to Roy’s. I knew this song by heart and it was one of my favorites to sing.

“I’ve gone too far-“

“-to begin all anew with someone like you.” I spun around in the chair, whirling so fast that I nearly fell off. Mark was across from me, leaning against the door frame with a smirk. All traces of drowsiness had left his features, replaced with a look of surprise.

“You’ve got an impressive voice Analii,” Mark chimed. I sent a glare his was, turning back to the computer.

“Go away, Mark. I told you to go back to sleep,” I replied bitterly, shutting the music off.

“I’m not tired,” he retorted. I turned slightly, but I did not look at him.

“At least,” he started, resting a hand on my shoulder just as he had before. He was trying to be reassuring, but it wasn’t working. “Not as tired as you.”

“I’m fine, Mark. I’m not tired.”

“I beg to differ, but if you say so,” Mark replied, pulling a chair over to sit next to me. I kept my focus on the screen, reading over the songs listed there.

“So,” Mark spoke, leaning back to his chair. “I’m guessing Roy’s been teaching you to sing,” he continued.

“No,” I replied finally, looking over at him with a glare, one the Mark chose to ignore.

“No?”

”You heard me,” I retorted, laughing slightly at Mark’s reaction.

“Is Mari teaching you?” he asked.

“Nope,” I chimed with a chipper tone, one that betrayed how I was feeling.

“Simone, then,” Mark asked. I shook my head, smiling. Mark stayed silent for a moment, thinking to himself.

“Elisabeth?” I let out a laugh and Mark sent me a confused look. He was running out of options and guesses.

“Then who-“

“I taught myself, Mark. I’ve always liked singing. According to my mother, I could sing before I could talk. When I heard Roy for the first time, I was mesmerized. His voice was so powerful and incredible that I thought it could move mountains, or something, and then I discovered singers like Simone and Tarja Turunen and I knew I wanted to sing like them. Some songs, like Sleeping Sun by Nightwish reminded me of the songs my mother used to play for my brother and I when we were little,” I explained, managing a small smile as the memory of my brother and I playing in the grass flashed in my mind. Everything had been so simple then… but of course true innocence never lives long.

“Well, you sound terrific from what I heard. You should have Roy or Simone give you lessons sometimes,” Mark replied, his voice almost like a quiet, calming hum.

“Uh, yeah…” I trailed off. “No one knows I sing,” I answered. Mark arched an eyebrow, sending me a look of skepticism.

“No one knows?”

”No one,” I replied. “Not Simone, not Roy, not Casey, not Thomas…”

“Why not,” Mark questioned. “You’re certainly not shy,” he added. I let out a light laugh, smiling.

“I don’t know, Mark, it’s just…” I trailed off, trying to find the right words. “I only ever sang around my mother,:

“Ah, I see,” Mark chimed. We both just sat there for a moment, in the dark, enjoying each other’s company. Well, I was enjoying Mark’s company, anyway.

“You know,” Mark spoke finally. “I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you talk about you family.”

“Yeah, well there isn’t much to say,” I replied.

“Oh, come on, there must be something. You’ve been with Thomas for, what, six or seven years now? What about before then? I know you and Thomas aren’t related, I’ve heard Roy say that plenty of times, and I know you’re from the Netherlands, but that’s it.”

“There’s nothing to really say, Mark,” I answered, slightly annoyed by his persistence. He meant well, but I didn’t like talking about my family.

“Nothing at all?” he questioned.

“No,” I replied bluntly. Mark let out a sigh, running a hand through his long brown hair.

“Okay, alright,” he started, getting up. “Come on, let’s go get some sleep,” he finished, holding a hand out for me. Smiling at him, I took it, and he pulled me to my feet.

“Yeah, lets. It’s getting late.”