Moonlit Revenge

Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Incoming Summer

Friday, June 19th, 2020, 10:52 AM.
My House, Pleasantdale.

The highly anticipated season of summer is starting tomorrow, and the days have already gotten very hot, not to mention a little brutal from how harsh the sun has become. School's already out for summer break; the last day of school only being a couple of days ago, on Wednesday to be exact. Saying that I was extremely hyped-up for the first day of summer was an understatement, despite the passionately loved season having a reputation for being hot, miserable, and having the ability to give you what's known as a painful sunburn if you don't apply sunscreen or don't apply it properly. Did I mention that I am also supposed to go out with Natalie tomorrow if the weather's nice? Oh, and did I also mention that the greens of summer are now finally here? Now the trees are no longer leafless and they no longer make the atmosphere of any place very dull, lifeless, and very morbid, like something out of a horror movie. Spring is starting to evolve into summer.

And then there's me, slowly beginning to wake up from a well-rested slumber, feeling refreshed as a not-so-normal teenager can be. I attempted to get out of bed, but the warm comfort of my bed kept me from getting up. I slowly glanced over at the time on my alarm clock, still unable to get up.

10:52 AM the time showed.

So it turns out I woke up a little late, but I didn't mind. Besides, I didn't have school and there wasn't anything important happening soon that I had to attend to, so it didn't matter. Plus the comfort of my bed refused to let me go, so I decided to watch a video or two on YouTube on my phone until my bed declared mercy on me.

After what seemed like hours but was only just a few minutes, the soothing comfort of my bed seemed more willing to give up, and I quickly took advantage of that, throwing the blanket off to the side. I slowly got out of bed, my feet meeting the soft, grey carpeted floor. Teenage me then walked to the bedroom window, opened up the blinds, and was instantly greeted with a bright, sunny day. A small yet irresistible smile formed on my face as the light of a possible great day came to my eyes.

"Today's going to be a great day." I thought to myself as the idea of going out for a walk on this gorgeous day crossed my mind like a friendly passerby on a calm day.

As I was thinking about what I could do besides sitting in all day playing video games as every other teenager would, I heard a knock on my door, and the sound of my door being opened. It was my mom.

"Since today was very sunny out, I decided to make you some pancakes to help start your day better." Mom said with a smile on her face.

"Aww, thank you so much." I replied with a huge smile.

"No problem. The pancakes are ready when you are." Mom said as she gently closed my bedroom door, and waited for me at the kitchen table.

I left the comfort of my bedroom and went to the kitchen to find out that mom did make some pancakes for me. The pancakes had steam slowly rising from them, they were a perfect golden-brown color, and were drizzled with that sweet and sticky syrup everyone loves that comes from maple trees. I sat down and began to eat them, smiling as the satisfying yet syrupy taste hit me. But as I was eating, a dark yet eerie thought came to mind.

Is today going to be a repeat of that dreadful spring day?

What the heck am I thinking?! The dark thought I had was starting to get a little excessive and I am most definitely mentally overreacting, so I pushed that troublesome thought towards the back of my head and forgot about it. Yeah, this day is starting in the same way as the day where I got blow-darted in my back, but it simply can't just happen again. The chances of me getting blow-darted again are zero; besides, getting blow-darted in public is the same chance as getting struck by lightning three times in a single day let alone in twenty-four hours, but somehow I was that damn unlucky to get blow-darted whilst taking a relaxing walk in town. Let's also not forget that Johnson is also as dead as a fucking doornail, and that there is nobody on this planet that will follow in his footsteps to continue his horrid tradition.