There's Something Wrong With the Moon

There's something wrong with the moon. I'm not even sure how to properly describe it. I noticed it about two weeks ago. There seems to be a sort of power issue. Rather, a lack of power. Every once in a while, the moon will go out. It is as if the light switches off, just to turn back on again. I'm not sure what to make of it. But then again, the rest of the world isn't sure either. It isn't as though it is super easy to get someone up there to figure out things on the ground. The moon simply doesn't work like it used to. The world doesn't really know what to do about it. It was only after the moon started acting up that I noticed the stars do the same. There are some nights where you can see them waver and go out for a few seconds or for the night.

Besides cutting off and on, I noticed a few other things that are strange about the moon. It doesn't move the way it used to. I'm not a science major. I barely know anything about space. But I do know that the moon rotates around Earth. It is also supposed to have phases. A routine. A pattern. It doesn't follow any patterns now. The waxing and waning are all random. The tides are all over the place these days.

Furthermore, it is impossible not to notice that our moon has multiplied. It started with two or three. But now we have seven. We only ever see them at night. Which I also thought was odd. We used to be able to see it every once in a while during the day. With so many moons, you would think one would show up. The moons seem to stay out of the sun, floating behind our planet. Can the moon, or moons, actually stay in one spot without rotating around the Earth? Isn't it supposed to be stuck in our fixed orbit? None of it made sense.

The only other thing that I noticed was that our moons made sounds now. Very audible groans? Moans? Whining? Like our moon is in some kind of pain. It isn't deafening or anything like that. Likely because it is so far away. I wonder what it would sound like if it were closer. But you can hear them. Even in the day, you know they are always there. You just can't see them. The closest thing I can think to compare it to is the sounds that humpback whales make. That sort of whiny, echoing song.

The weirdest part about all of this is how no announcements have been made. Everyone can see and hear this, yet the governments and news stations around the world aren't commenting on it. People will stand out in their yards with telescopes or just stare into the sky for several minutes. Even hours. I wonder what they see. I should really get my own telescope or binoculars.

Night was approaching. Which meant that soon, the night would be alive with not only our new moons but with people standing or walking around to gaze and stare. It was so strange. I could see people outside already, just waiting for a chance to see it. People would film or snap pictures. Weirdly enough, there was nothing online about it. You would think with how much people are attached to the internet, there would be at least one picture. One meme. One snippet. Something. But no. Even though plenty of people had cameras in hand. Maybe they never got a clear shot. Someone had to. Somewhere.

The Earth turned along its rotation and brought us toward our night sky. With how many moons we had, you would think that the sky would be brilliantly bright. But it wasn't. It was almost darker somehow since we had lost so many stars. Darker, with eight various sized moons, all in various phases, floating around our sky. It was especially worrisome that the moon multiplied so many times and was continuing to do so. They floated loosely with no real direction or cause. It was a wonder they didn't all smash into each other and shatter into pieces. Our planet would be in some serious danger should that become the case. But who could we call? We couldn't exactly arrest the new moons or evict them. We couldn't just shove them away. They were here to stay. All of them. Would we eventually be overrun and buried in moons? How was that going to affect our entire environment? Would our Earth flood? Would one of the moons barrel right into our planet? There was plenty to be concerned about.

Some people found it fascinating and beautiful. Enjoying the view. Some took to looting shops and causing chaos. Some took to worshiping the moons. Some took to praying to whatever god they followed to call this the end of times. I didn't know what to do. I spent each moment like I normally would. I still needed to eat. I still needed to sleep. I didn't feel any amount of panic within me. At least, not until I finally got my telescope a couple of nights later. I did finally feel the pit of my stomach drop when I was able to see the entire moon go out and return to light. When I finally saw that this moon was looking back at me. Back at us. This whole planet. Whatever it was that this glowing eye belonged to, it blacked out stars as it drifted across the inky black sky. While too dark to make out the shape, it appeared to block out stars like some sort of eel. I looked at the other moons, just to realize that we had eight now. Eight of these... things.

The only thing that seemed to be stopping them from crushing our planet to bits seemed to be the fact that they were using our globe as a shady shield from the sun. But why? Why suddenly now? What were these things? Had they always been around? Was our moon always one? Or did they do something to our moon and replace it? How had we never seen such a sight before? I imagined these creatures must be the death of stars and planets. These things had to eat something. We were but the size of cells in comparison. Did that mean they came here for that reason? Was Earth their next target? Their next meal? Were they hiding from the sun? Or hiding from us? I heard their whining and whale songs reverberate through the sky. They were communicating with each other. About who knew what. Surely, when we found out, it would be the end of us.

The panic hit me in a way I never knew it could. Past the freak out and chaos stage. All the way to acceptance in a matter of seconds. This was so far beyond me. Beyond everyone. No wonder the world was mostly silent about it. This was going to be our end. There could be no other purpose for this. It was like vultures gathering to a corpse. We were already dead. We just didn't know it yet. I lowered my telescope and walked back into my house. I had seen enough for tonight. It was time for bed. No point in worrying further. Back to the denial stage. It was out of my hands. What more could I be bothered to do besides acknowledge that there was simply something very, very wrong with the moon.