"Confined to her invisible world, she must find an answer."
Luna has been homeschooled ever since she was six, and all the friends she's ever needed have been in her books. But one day, her parents send her to regular school. Luna is nervous at fir...
Everything clicked. It explained...everything. Her parents hadn't been working all the time, they had been trying to find work!
She was...actually not as mad as she thought she would be. "You didn't tell me this sooner?" she asked, hurt lacing her voice.
"We didn't want you to have to carry that weight," Her mom rasped quietly. Luna looked away. She could not, would not, look into her mom's piercing green eyes. She didn't want to see the weariness, the exhaustion.
"Wait, so you both lost your jobs at the same time?" Luna asked, glancing at her dad and frowning.
Her dad shook his head. "No, your mom lost her job first. Then, a few weeks later...I did too."
Luna stared down at her hands, a thick, awkward silence hanging over the family. "So what's the financial situation now?" she whispered, so quietly she could barely hear herself.
"We're trying to find new jobs. Don't worry, we still have some cash left, from your great grandpa." Her dad reassured her. "He gave it to us a few years before he passed away."
Luna's mom flashed Luna a strained smile, although Luna could tell right away she was clenching her teeth. "Your public school is free, so that's a win!" The excitement in her voice was forced, obviously fake.
Luna wanted to throw something at the wall and release the feral, wild scream she had been holding in, letting herself get lost in panic and sadness.
Yet she didn't. She forced herself to take a few deep breaths. In, out. In, out.
"Luna, it's going to be okay." Her mom murmured. Luna didn't reply. She couldn't; a lump had formed in her throat and it refused to go away.
After a few minutes, the silence became suffocating. It was so heavy Luna felt like she could slice through it like a knife to butter. Luna swallowed the growing lump in her throat and hesitantly stood up on wobbling feet, like she was a newborn fawn taking her first steps.
"I...guess I'll go upstairs and do homework," she managed, avoiding looking at her parents. She hurried away from their prying gazes.
Once she was out of their line of sight, she darted away, her tail between her legs–like Ghost did sometimes. Luna became very aware of how old and broken her house looked.
The sagging couch, rips and holes scattered across the worn fabric. The armchair, an unidentifiable color. The dining table, scratches across the old wood. Ages old appliances in the kitchen, on top of the chipped stone counter. Creaking floorboards, whining doors that were in desperate need of oil.
Torn, faded curtains hung limply at the smudged windows, which had spiderwebs of cracks zigzagging through them. A thief could probably get in, Luna couldn't help but note. Then she thought with a pang that no thief in their right mind would want to steal from here.
She pushed that thought to the very back of her mind. What Luna wanted–no, what Luna needed–was to escape. She quickly grabbed her book and fled upstairs.
Floorboards creaked under her feet as she climbed. Luna gripped the railing for support, both mental and physical, pausing to catch her breath for a second. She exhaled and ran up to her room.
She dove under the covers, not even bothering to change out of her school clothes. Her fingers trembled as she opened her book. She couldn't stand living in her world anymore. Luna needed to be transported to someplace else.
Granted, given the book she was reading–Good Girl, Bad Blood–that meant she was going into a world of murder, woven lies, and twisted logic. But honestly? She would rather be in Pip's shoes.
Whenever Luna was upset, reading soothed her. She inhaled the scent of her book before opening it up to the page she was on, settling into the familiar rhythm of the words.
Luna read and read, time flying by, or in the case of her Mickey Mouse clock, not moving at all.
"Luna!" her mom demanded loudly from downstairs. Luna looked up from her book, realizing she had read to about ninety percent of the book, and strained her ears to listen.
"Can you please go out and buy some milk?" her mom called. Luna stiffened. She felt like chucking her book across the room. Her mom had just talked about how they didn't have money, then Luna had stormed off without so much as a backward glance to her parents. Now the first thing her mom was saying to her wasn't 'Are you okay? I'm sorry we kept this from you,' no, her mom was asking her to go and buy milk.
"Please, Luna?" her mom's voice caught on her name, and even thought Luna tried to tell herself to ignore her and go back to her book, her legs wouldn't listen. She pulled on a hoodie and walked down the stairs.
Her dad was lingering in the mudroom, watching as Luna slipped her boots on. Her dad held out a few dollars for the milk, and Luna accepted the money from her dad while avoiding his eyes.
"Bye," she muttered, pushing the door open and walking into the crisp evening air. More time had passed then she had realized. It was about six o'clock.
Luna made her way down Willoughby Street–her house was located on 143 Willoughby Street– her hands shoved into her hoodie pocket, clenching the money.
She would not lose it. Luna halfheartedly kicked some pebbles, the sidewalk blurring as her eyes pricked with tears. She shouldn't be crying. Her situation wasn't half as bad as Lily's. Argh, why was she thinking of Lily at a time like this?
That elusive grin that Luna would kill for, those sparkling eyes that couldn't decide what color they wanted to be, those pink lips, pressed against hers....
Luna wrenched her mind away from Lily at that thought. She had just met Lily! She couldn't be thinking about kissing her. Lily didn't even like her in that way!
Luna glanced up, realizing she was approaching the grocery store. A flash of something caught her eye. Luna frowned, pausing and turning back. There was a newspaper lying on the ground, soaking in a puddle of dirty water. Was that what had grabbed her attention?
She squinted, trying to read it the words printed on the paper, which had probably been white at some point in its' life but was now the shade of oatmeal. Luna had this feeling in her gut that she needed to see what the newspaper said.
The black words were blurred. Luna carefully bent down, trying not to get wet. Her fingers lightly brushed the paper, and she grabbed it and lifted it up. Water dripped down from it, and she blew gently on the paper, hoping that would help its condition.
Luna waved it slowly so it would dry, ducking as droplets of water flew everywhere. Maybe that wasn't a great idea. She brushed some of the water off of the damp paper and tried to read it.
It was too dark. Luna held the paper up to the twilight ombre sky, and the words came into focus.
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Luna dropped the newspaper, her mouth gaping open. She took a numb step forward, leaning against the wall of the grocery store.
