Bound by the Moon

“Loo-na! Get yer ass down here. Dinner is ready.” My foster mother yelled from downstairs, but I ignored her.

I was standing in the mirror. Looking at my face. I didn't look so good. My skin was pale, which was odd for my usual olive tone. My body was trembling slightly, like an addict that needed their fix. I took in a deep, calming breath, and tried not to freak out. Maybe I was coming down with the flu, or something. It was still early fall, not really flu season, but it wasn't impossible to get sick this time of year.

My foster mother yelled again, angry by the sound of it, and I heard someone coming up the stairs. Heavy footsteps that could be either my foster dad, or foster brother, Cole, who was only a year older than me, fourteen, but was over six feet tall and looked like a linebacker.

“Luna?” my foster father yelled as he reached the top of the stairs. “Didn't you hear Teresa calling you?”

“I'm in the bathroom.” I said loudly, but my voice was odd.

I thought I heard him sigh. “Yeah. And you've been in there for fifteen minutes.”

“I'm coming.” I said low. I shut my eyes and counted to ten. Still shaky I opened the door. My foster dad's stern face was staring down at me.

He frowned, and looked at me oddly. “What's wrong with you?”

I brushed past him. “Nothing.”

I went down the steps a bit slower than usual. In the kitchen my foster mom, Teresa, and her children, Tommy, and Brandy were at the table. Cole, and our foster sister Dina were setting the table. That's what the Mark and Teresa Anderson did. Used us like slaves while their own children did nothing at all. I felt like baring my teeth at the hefty woman as she watched my progression from the hall to the kitchen.

“Please don't tell me, yer sick.” she said with disgust.

“And if I am?” I said back. I wasn't one to bit my tongue. Which is probably why I would never get adopted but at this point I didn't care.

“I can't let my little ones catch whatever it is you've got.”

I thought of rolling my eyes, but stopped myself. I didn't really want to fight. Or did I? A part of me wanted to jump on the woman and rip her to pieces. Whoa. Where had that come from? I had never ever felt anything like that before. Sure I had fights with other kids back at the home, I was a bit rough around the edges, but never wanted to hurt someone with that much intensity.

Instead of acting out that impulse, I helped my foster sibling with the plates and such, my hand shaking a little more than they had minutes before. What was wrong with me?

Teresa made her husband give grace, and then we were allowed to eat. A tasteless meatloaf made by the fat bitch, that was her specialty. I'm not sure who told her this was good, but she made it all the time, and we couldn't get up from the table without finishing our portions. I picked at it with my fork, hungry, but for something else. Something I had never wanted, but I couldn't figure out just what I was craving.

“Earth to Luna,” Dina, said. I had been staring at my plate. I brought my attention to her. “Pass the salt.”

My hand shook as I picked up the shaker and handed it to her. She had her eyes on my hand. “You don't look so good.”

“You don't either.” I snapped back. She stuck her tongue out at me for the remark.

“Girls.” Teresa said sternly. “None of that at this table. Loo-na. Eat that food. I didn't make it for my health.”

“Clearly.” I muttered.

Everyone went silent.

“What did you just say, little girl?”

I did bare my teeth this time. “You heard m-.”

“Luna.” My foster dad said, cutting me off. “Apologize.”

“Sorry.” I said between my teeth.

“Sorry, who.”

I fixed my eyes on that woman, my gut doing somersaults. I wanted to reach over that table and do some damage. I reigned in my anger and said, “Sorry, ma'am.”

Teresa stared back at me. I'm not sure what my face was doing, but she didn't like it. She wanted to hit me, like she always does. “Eat yer food.”

I shakily picked up my fork, all eyes on me, my eye still on that woman, and ate a tiny bite of that dry so-called meatloaf.

I felt so on edge, jumpy. I didn't like siting here. I needed to go outside. I looked out the window. Storm clouds were on their way, and the sky was darkening. The window was open, and I could smell the coming rain. It smelled good. I needed to feel that rain on me. I shut my eye and licked my lips. I could almost taste it.

“Mom,” Tommy said, and I opened my eyes. “Luna's being weird.” Brandy nodded in agreement.

“She's on drug.” Cole said. “Look at her.” That statement brought all the attention back on me.

“Shut the hell up, Cole.” Dina said. She looked concerned. Her eyebrows raised. I was shaking even more. I shut my eyes again, when I opened them again my vision went weird. I shook my head, trying to clear it, and found myself on my feet.

Everyone moved away from me. “What the hell?” Mark muttered.

Something was happening to me. Something I had no control over. I just knew I had to leave. I stormed out of the back door, voices shouting behind me. I had no clue where I was headed to, I just walked. The further I got from that house, the worse these feeling got for me. I couldn't explain it, it was the weirdest sensations I had ever felt. No one followed me.

First there was this tingle in my spine, my head felt full, my body trembled. I got weird looks from everyone, I snarled at a few of them. I wanted to be left alone. About a month ago I started to get these weird headaches, if you could call them that. Everything bothered me. Migraines I think they're called. Or at least that's what Dina said they were called when I asked her. I told her my vision was odd, that my hearing was weird, my boy was acting strangely, and she told me not to worry, it was probably because of puberty, “Your body goes through all sorts of changes,” she had said. I shouldn't have listened to her. This wasn't puberty.

Rain began to fall on my head, first in tiny droplets, next in heavy sheets, soaking me though and through. I ran, or tried to. I reach the edge of a park. There were lots of trees here, and my body told me this is where I needed to be. Night was coming on, and I welcomed it. I was scared, hungry, and didn't know what to think, I just knew the trees would give me solace.

When I was about a half a mile in, the trees thicker, my body weaker as I staggered along. My legs gave way. I screamed as a wave of pain raked over my body. I was on all fours, every nerve ending standing to attention, my blood on fire. Falling onto my back, it felt as if all my bones were shattering. My throat got tight and my screams cut off abruptly. I felt like I was dying. I shut my eyes tight, willing the pain away, praying to every god I could think of just make it stop.

Then I blacked out.