Something Is Wrong With the Moon | Teen Ink

Something Is Wrong With the Moon

May 28, 2019
By seven_worlds GOLD, Lakewood, Ohio
seven_worlds GOLD, Lakewood, Ohio
17 articles 0 photos 11 comments

Favorite Quote:
"That's what the voices in your head are for, to get you through the silent parts."
-David Levithan, Will Grayson, Will Grayson

Curiosity killed the cat, and it was clawing at my insides with the intent to do so.

I glanced back down at the text.  Hesitancy pulsed through me. Habitually I raised a shaking hand to my mouth and bit down on a nail without indecision, for once.  The ugly beige curtains that I never gave a second thought to were resonating, seemingly taking up the entire room. Begging me to open them.  Despite my fear, I had listened to the text and left them untouched, drawn over the windows. And locked the door.


Look at the moon! It’s sooo pretty Char.


Charlie, go look at the moon.  OMG.

Mira never called me Charlie.  Never. Out of all thirty ominous text messages blowing up my phone, that was the most unsettling one.

Heart pumping, I switched off my notifications and ignored the continuously incoming text messages from nearly every one of my contacts.  They all promoted the same idea; look at the moon.

Except one.

Charlie, listen to me.  Whatever you do, don’t look at the moon.

It was Cayson.  Not exactly the kind of text you’d want to receive from your crush.

Don’t go outside, don’t even PEEK out the window.  Lock your door. Don’t try and find your parents. They’ve probably already seen it too.

I didn’t text him back, at first.  If it weren’t for him, sending the brutally contrasting message, I would’ve just powered off my phone a tried to ignore the fear seeping into me.  

But my parents?  What was he talking about, “they’ve seen it too?”  They were at work. They were gone. He made it sound like everyone was infected with something, and by the context of their texts, I had no reason to doubt him.  

Please, trust me.  This is bad, Char. I don’t know what the hell is going on, but something is very wrong.  Something is wrong with the moon.

Huddled under the blankets in my bed, my fingers hovered over the keyboard of my phone, shaking, waiting for the order to respond.  I hadn’t said anything yet, still wary of him, and he was beginning to sound scared. What what about him? How did I know something wasn’t wrong with him, too?   

A knock on my door.  I froze.

“Charlie, dear, have you seen the moon today?” my mother’s voice sang.  “It’s absolutely marvelous!”

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