𝑪𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝑴𝒐𝒐𝒏𝒔

[1]Train Ride

ɪɴ ᴀ ᴅʏꜱᴛᴏᴘɪᴀɴ ꜱᴏᴄɪᴇᴛʏ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴ'ꜱ ʟɪꜰᴇꜱᴛʏʟᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ʙᴀꜱᴇᴅ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴏɴ'ꜱ ᴘʜᴀꜱᴇ ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ʙᴏʀɴ. ᴛʜᴏꜱᴇ ᴡʜᴏ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ʙᴏʀɴ ᴏɴ ᴀ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴍᴏᴏɴ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴡᴇᴀʟᴛʜʏ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ʟɪᴠᴇᴅ ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛᴀʙʟʏ. ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴᴇꜱ ʙᴏʀɴ ᴅᴜʀɪɴɢ ᴀ ʜᴀʟꜰ-ᴍᴏᴏɴ ᴏʀ ʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡɴ ᴀꜱ ʟᴏᴡ-ʟɪᴠᴇꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ʟɪᴠᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴘᴏᴠᴇʀᴛʏ. ᴀʟᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜ ᴏɴᴇ ɪɴ ᴘᴀʀᴛɪᴄᴜʟᴀʀ, ᴏʟɪᴠᴇʀ ʜᴀʀɪꜱꜱ, ᴡᴀꜱ ꜰᴏʀᴛᴜɴᴀᴛᴇ ᴇɴᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ʙᴏʀɴ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴀ ʙʟᴜᴇ ᴍᴏᴏɴ. ᴏʟɪᴠᴇʀ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴘʀᴏᴘʜᴇꜱɪᴇᴅ ᴀꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴀᴠɪᴏʀ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄɪᴛʏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡᴀꜱ ɪɴ ʟɪɴᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʜʀᴏɴᴇ. ʙᴜᴛ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴄʜɪʟᴅ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴀʟꜱᴏ ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴘʜᴇᴄʏ. ᴀ ᴄʜɪʟᴅ ʙᴏʀɴ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴀ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ ᴍᴏᴏɴ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʜɪʟᴅ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴘʀᴏᴘʜᴇꜱɪᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ᴍɪꜱᴄʜɪᴇꜰ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴏᴡɴꜰᴀʟʟ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄɪᴛʏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏʀʀᴜᴘᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴡᴀʏ ᴏꜰ ʟɪꜰᴇ. ꜱᴏ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʙʟᴜᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇᴅ ᴍᴏᴏɴᴇᴅ ʙᴏʏꜱ ᴍᴇᴛ? ᴏʀ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴡᴏʀꜱᴇ, ᴄᴀᴜɢʜᴛ ꜰᴇᴇʟɪɴɢꜱ? 

▶•⁂→☂🌻☁♬◀

I stared out the window dreamily, my eyes fixated on the scenery passing by. There were rolling hills and mountainsides outside the window, no matter how many times I've seen it I've always found the scenery calming. The Lush trees covered the landscape with a flourish of warm colors. Daisy yellow, sunset orange, and apple red swirled together as the wind ruffled the leaves. I could barely hear the soft squeal of the machinery propelling me across the city. I sighed with content at the sun's placement, the lighting glazed my olive skin and highlighted my lightly freckled cheeks. It was perfect lighting for reading. 

But I had a cold feeling that someone was staring at me, eyes like daggers and as usual, it was my father. His cold stare was enough to set me on the edge of my chair. I tried to make an excuse to break his intense eye contact. Although he did this often,  I've never really liked being looked at. 

Ironic. Since after this trip I'll be known everywhere by everyone. I was visiting the Hood for the summer again, to get to know my new 'people' although I've gone there every summer and already knew the place like the back of my hand. 

I'll no longer just be known as 'the boy born under the blue moon' people will start seeing that I'm different and what do they do to people that are different? Stare and judge. Although I've always been seen as weird, I had no real friends in the Capital.

Since I was prohibited from telling anyone that I was born under a Blue Moon, for my safety. They wouldn't believe it was me anyway, I'm scrawny and look wimpy the complete opposite of their ideals. From the time a child has been able to walk they've known about 'the boy born under a blue moon.' To some, I was a myth, a prophecy, or even a superhero. 

"Oliver," His father's voice was sturdy and confident, being a lawyer gave him all of that along.

I  promptly responded to my name. "Yes, Father?" I say as sophisticated as possible, my words trail out and my formal British accent very noticeable just the way he liked it. He basically trained it into me, saying that 'only people from the hood speak in informal English.' Whenever I said a word that was even slightly slanged such as 'trash' or 'pants,' he would slap me in the back of the head and said I had to use the formal words, 'rubbish' and 'trousers.'