The Legend Of Moon

2. Nothing but LIES

Jeka's POV

Jeka Veza, so they called me when I was born nearby Bibury which was the place I grew up as a child. I lived happily with both my mother and my father as only child inside one of the small houses that formed our little town. The sun, which was always shinning, welcomed me each morning as I looked outside my window, woke me up just in time to go to school with my precious friends. All the children, they were all my friends, even Sasha who was a bit of a troublesome kid. But then again, we all had our troubles and yet, we couldn't miss each other. We were one, always had been, went to the same class and had sometimes a snowball fight when snow fell down on the roofs of our old houses. We always carried a smile, all thanks to Thomas, who always cheered us if we cried. He was our happy man, the one with the plan to have some fun on a rainy day, heck he even fixed an old game we found on the side of the road for inside our treehouse. But he was nothing without Sammy, a kid around his age who teached him how to fly with his imagination. We'd fly a lot, lying down in the early grass of spring to stare at the clouds and fly away inside our minds. We would see bunnies hupping and jumping while a fairy waved at us on the back of a pretty unicorn. We were just children, kids but our fantasy was able to bring colors to the whole neighbourhood.

Everyone knew each other, it was a perfect place to live at. Although, Miranda was my favourite since the baked us cookies in spring, hot chocolate in winter, cake in summer and brownies in autumn. She was so kind we would always help her out cleaning, she was loved by all of us. Her kind smile, she was the one who would come to pick us up at school when our parents weren't at home or came to babysit. We would play games, watch a movie, go to sleep after a little story. In a way, she formed our second mother, for some even the first. 'Cause even so, Bibury wasn't always that beautiful. In a childs eyes such as mine back then, it was paradise but to the one with wounded eyes it was just like any other town with it's own stories, regrets and happenings we didn't know about. Even so, that was about to change.

Strange things happened soon after we reached the age of 8 years old and all went to a new school a bit further away in town. We stood out by the other kids, we weren't rich or famous after all, unlike some dolls who looked like a shaped puppet. We were who we were, sticked together and didn't back down for the others. We weren't rich neither poor, we weren't fancy neither forgotten, we were everything and at the same time we were nothing. We were smart and stupid, we were creative and empty, we were original and fakes, we were the kids of the forgotten land of Bibury. And I have to be honest, sometimes it brought us all down 'cause we were so different and didn't fit in the chosen society we actually hated. But Thomas, he never stopped smilling and got us all on our feet, no matter how long it took to bring back the old innocent and happy feeling. He was the hero of our smiles, the pure happiness itself, happy boy. He didn't cry when he fell since we got his back, he didn't cry when he failled classes 'cause we all studied together. He didn't cry, he never did, not even when the others did. He couldn't, he was our happy boy and even when he was sad, his cursed smile showed up. He never cried, he couldn't, even if he wanted to.

All of us were like that, messed up and left on the side of the road, wandering and wondering why we were alive. We would ask questions about life itself, the dead and the fears which had an unknown cause without ever replying with the answer. We thought many things, hoped for many things, praid for many things but always stayed unwritten. After all, we didn't belong. We were not rich and not poor, not smart and not stupid, not happy and not sad, not alone and not together, not original and not fake, we were not ourselves and yet we were. They called us what they wanted to, waved and talked the way they liked but we never followed. They were the samples, examples, the ones in front of us while we were on the frontline, facing the reality. All our dreams were destroyed, our childhood taken. It brought us nothing but misery, we hated each other, the look we saw in those for crying out loud eyes and yet stayed silent, said no word, just walked. Not hand in hand, not by each other's side but not alone either. We were forgotten, we couldn't remember our names, our age or who we were supposed to be. All we were, we were empty.

Nothing mattered, eventually we parted due the search we made to find at least a bit of ourselves, the person we left behind in the past. We never faced truth, never faced each other again, our footprints on the beach faded and we were nothing but a few children of Bibury. It were all lies they told, the words they shared, they were supposed to bring a smile. In the end, they only brought pain and sorrow, tears and scars in our hearts which wouldn't forget nor ignore. The treehouse, the woman who backed us sweets, the boy who never cried and the girl who had troubles. Our beautiful town, the small houses, the imagination and fantasy which made the clouds dance. The boys of Bibury, they were all lies and so was I. The boy who never told a lie, but eventually was nothing but a lie...