If The Moon Fell Down Tonight

Tears welled up in your eyes as he spoke those words. You knew that he meant them with all his heart, and there was a strange sense of security that followed hearing them. Your stomach warmed at the thought of the two of you being together forever. You brought your lips to his again and stayed like that for a good five minutes, both of your lips just touching. The feeling of his breath was the nourishment of life to you, and you couldn’t figure out how you had lasted that long without being able to have that nourishment.

“So you have been working out here?” You asked, breaking the silence. You pulled away from him and took his hand, leading him over to the tree. You sat down at its base and he followed suit, pulling you into his lap. You leaned your head against his chest as he began his story.

“Well, you remember the day we parted.”

~Flashback~

Luke was pulled harshly by the Father down the flight of stairs. He gave Jacelen one last glance before being forced to turn away for fear he might trip. The Father’s grip on his arm tightened every second, and it wasn’t long before his arm went numb. Luke stifled small sobs as he was dragged down the hall. It was dark and lonely, the cement beneath his feet cold and strangely wet.

Apparently there’s a leak. Drew thought dully to himself as he followed the cruel man in front of him. The walk was silent except for the occasional wheeze that the Father gave out. After a little while longer, the Father turned sharply to the left. Here was a narrow corridor with small metal doors lining the walls. There were dull lanterns hung above the doors, giving an errie glow. The Father went all the way to the end of the hall before opening the last door and shoving Luke unceremoniously inside. He slammed the door shut, never saying a word. Luke landed on the ground with a thud and skidded a couple feet from the impact of the throw. When he looked up he gasped in shock: he was in a jail cell.

To the left there was a cement slab being held up by chains to the wall, and on top of it was a thread bear quilt. There was a small window directly in front of him, no bigger than 1 foot by 1 foot, with thick metal bars guarding it. Off to the right was a toilet and sink, and a small, rusted mirror hung above the sink. Other than that the room was bare, cold, and uninviting. Luke shivered. Slowly he made his way over to the bed (if you can even call it that) and fingered the quilt lightly, running his index finger over the faded pattern idly.

Luke’s head shot up suddenly as the sound off footsteps turned down the corridor. They were slow and deliberate, as if meant to heighten Luke’s fears. The footsteps stopped right in front of his door before the sound of someone turning on their heel to face the door. It was quiet for about a minute; the only sound coming from Luke was his uneven breathing that he was trying so hard to regulate. The person outside was making no noise whatsoever. Although Luke knew that he was to expect it he couldn’t help but jump a little was the door was swung open. In the doorway was the figure of a man: a burly one at that. He had broad shoulders and very little hair on his head, with a short stubble beard and small, black eyes. The man gave the overall effect of intimidation.

With his index finger, the man motioned for Luke to come toward him. Cautiously Luke obliged, taking careful, measured steps toward the mystery man. Quite suddenly, the man turned on his heel and began to walk down the hall from where Luke had come not five minutes before. Luke stopped at the door and stared after him, wondering if he was to follow.

“Get over here!” the man yelled. His voice was low and gruff, like it hadn’t been used in a while. Luke practically ran over to his side, not wishing to get punished for not obeying.