Thinking of you is a poison I drink often

***

~ATLAS~

I watched the glow of the moon as she hung low in the night's sky.

When I was small, my father use to tell me stories about how my mother was with her.

It did not take me long to realize that these stories were lies.

At first I thought she was dead. Gone and never to come back.

But for all that had occurred, she might as well have been.

Clouds shifted above, moving slowly in the way of the glow, creating a shadow.

I continued to watch, not caring about the late hour. I would not tell father that I was watching the moon. Though part of me knew there was a large chance that he had his eyes upon her too.

Instead I would keep this information to myself.

Locked away with all the other secrets I had stored inside.

The pain in father's eyes when I first mentioned to him how much I watched it, caused me equal, if not more, damage.

He had wrapped me in a shaky hug, soothing my hair and mummering soft words only to himself.

It was not until my grandmother, Nov-nov, her silent calmness encasing us all, pulled my father away, that I realized just how broken he was.

I had been ten at the time.

And now eight years later, I had never again made any sound to suggest otherwise.

Sighing one last time, and casting my eyes away from the far off figure, I slowly crawled into bed.

Around the regular time, I heard my door open.

I pretended to be asleep, but my breathing hitched just so when I felt my father's hands softly stroking my hair down, and heard his exhale of breath- his sigh of relief.

"Jay, come back to bed."

Nov-nov no doubt had caught him tonight, waiting for him to get up to scold him.

The pressure of my father's hand left me as I tensed within the bed, still faking sleeping. Though my father probably knew better. We had slept side by side so many nights, he was well aware of my breathing patterns. But if he noticed it, he didn't say anything.

"I was just checking on him."

I heard the click of disapproval from Nov-Nov as father's silent retreat padded across the room.

"He's not going anywhere Jay. Go back to bed. You need sleep."

I could almost smell the exhaustion, coming off my father in waves.

Ever since my first shift, I could pick up on these small changes in people's demeanors. I hated it. Part of me wished I could retreat back to the time when I was in ignorant bliss as to how much suffering my father was actually going through.

Though he hid it well upon the surface, it was small clues like these that gave him away.

"I...I- can't," my father's voice broke. He opened up to Nov-nov. I wished sometimes that he could open up to me like that.

But part of me knew I would never be able to understand just how deep his sorrow went.

Nov-nov understood though. She had been abandoned by her also.

She knew what the pain felt like.

"Come on," I heard their silent retreat and knew then that nov-nov would sit down beside father, rocking back and forth within her chair as he silently fell asleep.

I often found her in the mornings there, sleeping within the cushioned folds of it. Father never said a word. Never admitted that he needed someone else in the room with him in order to even just close his eyes.

Sometimes I would lay down with him.

Sometimes it would be Jackie.

But ever since Jackie passed away, father has retreated even more into himself.

But through it all- he's a good father.

A great one.

I laid there in bed, wondering if he never shared more about mother, never opened up about her because he didn't want to hurt me.

That it wasn't really about himself.

Jackie had told me, before she passed, that father was good. Though he still had odd mannerisms and tics that worried me, he was good.

It was me that he worried about.

Me that he looked at and silently wondered if he was doing a good enough job.

Me that he got angry for, because I had been abandoned also.

Left upon his doorstep.

Father loved me. I don't think any father within the pack could love as much as mine could. Could have the heart for it.

And it only made me question more and more everyday.

Why had the silent figure of my mother ever chosen to go away?

I counted it peepers.

12.

Including this chapter there are 12 more chapters left of Moon Child!?!?

I went on an all blaze out today and wrote 6 of the final ones (kinda weird because I wrote the last chapter first...hee hee hee)

Anyhoooo I don't want to give to much away so hang in there with me!

All shall be revealed soooooooon!

Until next time,

Loves,

/////WORLD_JOY_/////