She would come back almost every night...almost. That's what made it so real.
I gaze into the night sky and see the moon- full and bright. I think about the events earlier that day. My boyfriend is going too fast, but I don't know how to tell him. Maybe I should just go along with it. Maybe I'm being too cautious. I think about the advice my mom used to give me. "Always be in control." She would say. I feel the tears in my eyes and the pressure in my throat. It's been 3 years since she died of cancer. Every night, I look up to the sky where I believe she might me. The moon is my guardian now. The different phases send me messages. I know it sounds crazy, but it's a tradition that I started after she died. It's what kept me sane.
I think of how I should interpret the full moon tonight. I need to figure out what to do about Caden. He's too controlling. I look up again and realize I need to get closer to her. I'm freezing and my frigid fingers fumble with my keys before I can get the front door open. I'm alone. My dad always works late. I knew that he wasn't home when I didn't see his car in the driveway, but the loneliness always surrounds me when I enter my house. I hear the door shut behind me, and I turn the lock more slowly than I normally would. Closer. Suddenly, I'm out of breath, but I haven't moved. I throw down my purse and run up the stairs to my room, taking them two at a time. Closer. I grab a green sweatshirt and a blanket from my closet and start to open my window. This is where I always go to get closer. I put one foot out and feel the breeze as I'm about to climb onto the roof. I hesitate because this time feels different. I can't go out just yet. I'm still frantic, but I can't figure out why. It has to be Caden. I search through my closet again, knowing an empty notebook has to be in here somewhere. I usually fill them with words like a glass of water under a high-pressure faucet. Under a pair of sweatpants, I find two spiral-bound books. I open the first so quickly that I almost rip the pages. Blank. Perfect. I stumble towards the open window while I detach the mechanical pencil that was clipped to the front. Now, I'm ready. Once, again, I grab the sweatshirt and the blanket and place one foot onto the easily accessible roof. Clinging to the window pane, I lift myself out of my room. The cold slaps me, and the sudden loss of light makes it difficult to see. The blanket fights me with the wind, but i eventually get it down and quickly sit on top of it to keep it in place. Now I feel close enough to her. I always do when I come up here. I think of the first time I did and the blue and red flashing lights that followed. My neighbor had called the police because she thought I wanted to jump off. Maybe I did. Maybe I should have. No. Not again. I should be thinking about today. I should be thinking about now. I guess what upset me about that day, though, is that my neighbor didn't have the decency to come over and "save" me herself. Clearly, she didn't care that much. Why can't I stop thinking about that? I was never going to jump. I crumple my sweatshirt and place it behind my head as a pillow.
"Hi, Mom" I say to the moon, shining brightly back at me. It means she's happy to see me. I don't think I've ever seen it this dazzling and full.
"I don't know what to do" I confess to her. "I can't be with this boy anymore."
The wind blows harder. Everything means something. Or at least I've convinced myself that it does. Okay, now I have to concentrate. She's going to tell me what to do.
"Mom?" I ask, but the wind doesn't stop. The pressure in my throat is coming back, and I have to blink back my tears. I think back to the day that I needed her, and she wasn't there. I was in a fight with Dad, and I was losing my mind, so I came out here to talk about it with her. At first, I thought the reason I couldn't see her was because of the blurred vision caused by the tears in my eyes, but that wasn't it. She didn't come. I kept wiping my eyes, thinking it would make a difference. I should've known. The moon wasn't out and there was no point waiting for it. But she's here now. That's what matters. Tonight she's here for me more than ever. With the same blurry vision that I had that night, I stare into the sky and choke on my own words.
"Should I stay with Caden?" I'm nearly shouting, and tears are streaming down my face. The wind stills, giving my hair a break. I close my eyes and place my hands over them in despair, feeling the moisture on my palms.
I stay like that and lose track of time, briefly wondering what my neighbor must be thinking now. I finally force myself to uncover my eyes, wishing I had payed better attention to the patterns of the wind during that time. When I get my vision to focus on the sky, I realize that it didn't matter because there was a sign in front of me. Waiting. To the left of the moon, I see faint stars making the distinct shape of the letter N, spelling out "No" with the figure of the moon. I smile, but my cheeks are still damp from before. Somehow, I knew she wouldn't leave me on my own.
"Thank you," I whisper into the sky and close my eyes again.
I sleep better than I have in a while; and, when I wake up, the sight brings me insurmountable joy.
She is still there.
