The night Lily went to meet the man on the moon, there was no one left to stop her.
Not a single voice calling her back. Not a single hand reaching for hers.
The world had long since turned its back, leaving only the hush of an empty street and the slow, steady rhythm of her own footsteps. The pavement was cold beneath her bare feet, but she didn’t mind. Pain had long since stopped feeling like pain.
The moon was full that night, hanging low in the sky like it had bent down just to listen. It bathed everything in silver, turning the world into something quiet, something almost peaceful. Almost.
She tipped her head back and whispered into the wind, telling it all the things she had never been able to say. How heavy it had become—just being. How the days stretched into each other, colorless, empty. How she had tried, God, she had tried. But no one saw. No one listened.
No one ever does.
She walked past the houses where families slept, their dreams undisturbed. She passed the street where she had once laughed so loudly the whole block must have heard. That was before she learned to be quiet. Before she learned that some kinds of pain don’t make a sound.
The city stretched behind her, but she wasn’t looking back. Not tonight. Not anymore.
She reached the old bridge just before dawn. The air smelled like rain, the kind that never quite falls. The metal railing was cold beneath her hands, steady in a way she had never been.
The moon watched her. It had always watched her. And for the first time, she thought—maybe he had been waiting. Maybe the man on the moon had always been there, waiting for someone like her to finally understand.
She let out a breath, slow, trembling.
She was so tired.
And no one was coming.
No footsteps. No voices. No one to say, “Stay.”
So Lily closed her eyes.And stepped forward—Only to feel a hand wrap around her wrist.Cold. Strong. Unmistakably real.
Her eyes flew open, breath hitching in her throat. But there was no one there.Only the wind. Only the moon. Only the lingering warmth of fingers that should not have existed.
And then, just beneath the howl of the night, she heard it.
A whisper.
“Not yet.”
Rae’s Quill
9:00PM
27th March 2025
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Judith295 says:
Very good
Leanne4037 says:
Good