Blood Moon

They say strange things happen when there is a blood moon. They say... But of course, I'm a sensible man; I don't believe those things. Well, I didn't believe them. Now I'm not so sure.

It all began twenty-three years ago.

"There's a blood moon next week, did you know that Robert?"

My roommate Andre strolled out of his bedroom, his jacket slung over his shoulder. I scowled at him.

"Of course I know there's a blood moon next week."

"Right," Andre clicked his tongue and winked at me. "I forgot, you're doing your thesis on astrology."

"Astronomy!"

Andre laughed at me

"Same difference, nerd. You know they say weird stuff happens when there's a blood moon, right?"

"Who says that?"

"I donno, people I suppose. They say it's a bad omen, that it makes people crazy."

"Well those who say that are morons. How could a lunar eclipse affect human psychology?"

Andre shrugged and swung open the door.

"I donno, man," He said. "It's just what they say. I'll be back in the morning!"

I rolled my eyes and waved a half-hearted goodbye. That idiot Andre liked to tease me, calling my field of study astrology, rather than astronomy. As though someone sensible and intelligent such as I would study something as silly as astrology! I shook my head at the very thought and took my instant ramen noodle soup into my bedroom. I had a long night of writing ahead of me and I couldn't afford to be going out gallivanting like Andre.

I awoke suddenly, in my desk chair. My desk light was still on, but my computer monitor had gone black. The sky was dark outside my window. I must have fallen asleep while writing. I stood up groggily. My whole body ached. Served me right for falling asleep in my desk chair. I stumbled towards my bed, still half asleep but I felt my foot catch on something on the floor. I hit the ground before I even knew I was falling. I groaned and hauled myself into a sitting position, massaging my bruised elbow. That's when I noticed it, the thing that had tripped me. It was my blazer. What was it doing on the ground I wondered vaguely. That's when I realized that my blazer wasn't the only thing on the ground: my entire room was strewn with my clothes. My dresser drawers were open and empty. Baffled, I staggered out of my room.

"Andre?" I cried.

My idiot of a roommate was sitting on the couch, a beer bottle in his hand. He grinned at me, clearly still drunk from his outing.

"Oh, you're up already?" He slurred, "It's barely what? Like 5 am right?"

He checked his wrist but was not wearing a watch. I threw my hands in the air in frustration. I was now fully awake and perfectly understood what had happened to my room: Andre had pranked me! And I was furious.

"Andre! What the heck is going on in my room? Why did you throw all my clothes on the ground? Is this your idea of a good practical joke? Because it's not funny at all!"

Despite my last words, Andre started to laugh.

"Oh no that's super funny. But I – I didn't do it, man. You got the wrong guy."

"Well if you didn't do it, who did?" I was already sure it was Andre's doing; all I wanted was a confession. An apology would be too much to hope for, I knew.

"Man, I promise, it wasn't me! I donno who did it. Maybe it was you."

"Why would I throw my own clothes all over my room?"