Under the Moonlight

      "Roselina! Come downstairs! You have a letter, dear!" I heard my mum call, her voice wafting up through the house and rafters. I sat up on my polka-dot covered comforter, laying the book, A Great and Terrible Beauty, aside, as I swung my feet over the edge of my bed. I hopped down from my comfy safe haven, smiling as my feet came into contact with the carpeted floor. I stretched, my stiff joints popping, the t-shirt I was wearing rising slightly as I lifted my arms over my head. A small smile etched it's way across my face as I walked towards the door, not lifting my feet. I reached for the metallic doorknob, which caused me to receive a static shock. I jumped a bit in the air, a small yelp erupting from my mouth. I reached for the doorknob again, breathing a sigh of relief when I wasn't shocked. I threw the door open, stepping out of the way before it could crash into me. I danced into the hallway, shuddering slightly as my bare feet came into contact with the wood floor. "Sweetie, come here please!" I sighed deeply.  

       "I am on my way mum!" I shouted back, a sigh escaping my lips as I stepped down on the first stair. I placed my hand on our dark-stained banister. Smiling widely to myself, I threw my leg over the banister, straddling it as I pulled my legs closer to my body. As I started sliding down the curving and twirling banister, a huge, boisterous laugh left my mouth. My over-sized t-shirt was rising up on my legs, revealing my black shorts that I had on underneath. I let out a rather loud gasp when I suddenly fell off the banister. A loud thud resonated throughout the house, as I hit the wooden floor paneling. I laid there, my back against the floor, looking around confusedly. I set my head on the floor, tracing patterns in the ceiling with my eyes, before a shadow blocked my view. I looked up, only to see my mother peering down on me, a small smile etched across her face, softening her features.

      "Roselina, dear, are you alright?" she asked, crouching down to help me sit up. Worry filled her eyes, the smile still on her face, as she looked at my head. I sighed, and swatted her hands away.

      "Mum, I'm fine. You know that I can handle a little fall." I replied, my heart swelling when her eyes were still filled with concern. My mum's doe-like blue eyes stated into mine, before she sighed, and stood back up. My mum was rather petite woman, with long, blonde hair that fell just below her bust. She reached out with her hand, that I thankfully grabbed, before pulling myself up, and wiping the imaginary dust off of my shirt. I followed my mum, who began walking into the living room. There my father sat, in the plush lounge chair that was placed in front of the fire place. He had on leg crossed over the other, and his glasses were perched on the edge of his nose, looking like they were about to fall off. I noticed that he was reading the newspaper, and an opened letter that was addressed to me sat next to him on the inn table. I took another look at my father to see that his midnight black hair was messier than usual, seeming as if had been running his hand through it. Father was staring straight on a point on the wall, looking directly at the one brick, instead of reading, like I originally thought.

      "Father? Are you alright? You seem distant," I asked, a tone of concern filling my eleven year old voice. Instead of answering me, he took off his glasses with one hand, using the other to rub his face, before he pinched the bridge of his nose. I took a step forward, my footfalls silent, as I reached the plush chair. I nudged my father's shoulder with my hand, which in turn made him jump in fright just a little bit. "Papa? Are you alright?" I asked, once again, walking around to the front, to look at him fully.

      "Oh, Roselina, it's just you. Gave me quite a fright, you did." He replied, ignoring my question. I looked at him questionably, my head cocked to the side in a confused manner, as my eyes turned gray with flecks of my original brown in them. "Sit down sweetheart," Father said, pleading. I did as I was told, sitting Indian-style, feeling like a child that was about to receive a story. As of a sudden my mother appeared behind my father, the brightness of her red skirt shocking me. It matched well with her red floral top though.