Luna Rising

Awakening

The next morning I was rudely awakened by someone knocking on my caravan door. I groaned, my clock read 06:00 and there was only one person who would come to torture me at this ungodly hour.

I quickly wrapped my blondish hair in a messy bun and slowly opened the door.

„Hey Max, I hoped you would stay away forever, you mean old man!"

„Oh Romy you little brat, whom are you calling old? I am still fresh as morning dew!"

I looked at the broadshouldered man before me, he was in his late fifties and most people would have been quite intimidated by him.

His nose was crooked from the years of boxing and street fights he had behind him. A thin but visible scar traveled down from his lip to the chin, where a brass knuckle had hit him. He grinned at me, showing of a few gold teeth. Fresh like morning dew? Certainly not.

„I missed you little one!" he said, pulling me into an almost uncomfortably tight bear hug. „Did you keep on your training?"

„Of course Max, I am your best student after all!"

„Yeah, yeah, you are also my worst one, after all there aren't any others besides you!"

„You are surely quite tired, you had a long drive. Come in, let me make you some coffee!" I tried to lure him into my caravan, but to no avail.

„Oh great idea, I will help myself to some coffee, while you are on your morning run", Max said, pushing me out of the door nonchalantly. He quickly grabbed some sneakers I had lying around, threw them at me and locked himself into my caravan. My plan to procrastinate the morning training had clearly backfired.

„See you in 30 minutes and if you don't come back sweating I will give you a kick in the arse and 50 push-ups to get you going"

I muttered some cursewords under my breath, but went on my morning run. We had currently set up our circus in a small town near the French-German border. The surrounding area was quite beautiful and it didn't take me long to leave the towns outskirts behind me.

I entered a beautiful old forest, something I always found soothing.
Max and my parents were very strict when it came to training routines. Muscle strength kept us from getting stress injuries. And since my dad was very adamant about keeping me safe during our travels, Max had begun to teach me some fighting skills a few years back.

At 160 cm I was rather small, but I confidently knew I was much stronger than I looked. I enjoyed fighting, if it weren't for those early hours Max used to wake me up. And that on my free day nonetheless!

I made my way through the forest, circling back to our camp. I closed my eyes while running, trying to locate what was around me and began smiling when I heard some bucks in the undergrowth. I don't know why, but game always got me excited.

As I continued my run along a forest path a strange feeling crept overcame me. My smile vanished as I slowed my steps and looked around. Something was watching me, something that did not belong into these woods. I picked up my speed again and rushed to the camp.

Back at the caravans I found Max sipping on my coffee next to some mats we used for training. The other Circus Artists had begun to wake up and the smell of coffee and fresh hay lingered in the air.

„So let me see what you were up to while I was gone. Grappling it is today."

I nodded, Max never taught me a specific kind of martial arts. It was simply about self defense, even if that meant fighting dirty. Considering my stature, a good kick in the balls was more effective than any fancy combination of punches he could have taught me.

The rest of the day went by quite slowly. My parents decided to go somewhere by car. I realized quickly that they were cross with each other, but didn't pay much attention to it. They never fought for long.

After I finished my studies for the upcoming exams, I began to scroll through YouTube, searching for a few new aerial silk tricks to implement in my show.

After a few minutes I realized that my phones charger was nowhere to be found. I probably left it at my parents place yesterday, I thought to myself.

They still weren't back from their trip, so I let myself into their caravan and began searching around for it myself. I was extra careful looking for it. I knew I shouldn't, but my birthday was coming up and I had always been quite nosey.

„Oh yes, gotcha!" I murmered to myself, while checking under one of the sitting benches. I dug up an old wooden box, with intricate carvings. It was filled with many cute pictures of our little family through the years. I inhaled deeply, there was always a comforting scent of patchouli in my parents caravan. It smelled like home.

As I rummaged through the box two pictures didn't seem to belong. One showed an unknown young man and then the same guy again with my father. He looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn't quite place him.

They both seemed to be in their twenties back then, standing next to some motorcycles. My dad still had a very youthful look to him and had hardly changed at all. But I knew he had given up his biking days after a particularly gruesome crash, a few years before I came along.

I was just placing back the photos into the box, when my eyes landed on a folded up piece of paper in the bottom. It was an scrunched up booklet of the circus from my birth year. It was dirty and covered in brown spots, probably coffee or something, but it was still cute that they kept it all those years.
I turned it around and saw something scribbled on the backside.

Michael,
They killed my mate.
Please take her in and hide her from her grandfather at any cost. She is not safe with me. I know how much you wanted a child of your own, so please love her as if she was.

Leave

Don't look for me,
S.

I lowered the letter, suddenly realizing that the spots were old dried up blood.

My fingers began to shake.

Did it mean... was I ..? Were they not ... ? How could they lie to me for all those years?