As the Sun, So the Moon

Snippet 1: An Introduction

The first time she meets Sofie is when a monster is clawing from the depths of her throat, and it tastes like bile and blood and desperation. The nausea curdles in her tiny body like old milk, rotten through and through, and that's exactly what Charlotte is: rotten through and through.

She's nine years old then, just on the awkward cusp of pre-pubescence - dark hair matted from sweat, and dark skin caked in dirt. And, Lord, everything in the world is a skyscraper! The lampposts tower above her like trees, and the trees brush against the clouds like buildings. But Charlotte doesn't need to stand beside a lamppost to feel so infinitely small - even the postboxes were taller than her. The feeling of being a runt, however, only seems to energize her.

When you're a half-pint, no one expects you to have so much pride, so much feverish passion.

And Charlotte draws pleasure from surprising her classmates with how goddamn willing she is to lose a few teeth for something she believes in.

It gets her every time.

There are days when she finds herself in over her head, though. Too many children far over her own age, or children that are just flat-out stronger than she could ever hope to be.

She's not just in over his head, she's fucking drowning. And yet she still finds herself pumping her arms and legs, still fighting, trying to propel her body back to the surface, back to where she can breathe and fight and win and—

—and she loses every time she winds up in these situations.

Of course, this had been one of those situations, and of course they'd been reckless, stupid kids. They hadn't even tried to hide their brawl - it happened right out on the sidewalk in broad daylight. Onlookers displayed their disapproval with an outright zeal, some choosing to only scoff or quicken their pace, and others by shouting at them to keep the ruckus down or take it somewhere else, dammit!

And Charlotte, having turned her head to locate the source of the yell, wound up with her skull caught between Emmett Snyder's enormous arms.

"Say it again, you shit," Emmett's voice is steely and thick coming from the depths of his throat. Charlotte makes a guttural noise just behind her teeth, partially because she can't breathe, and partially because she almost laughs at how deep Emmett's voice is in comparison to his small, eleven-year-old body. "Say it again, go ahead. I'll break you."

That's when she tastes it, realizing minutes too late that her front two teeth were digging into the tip of her tongue. The sickly taste of copper trickles over her gums and the pain of the puncture sends her into a frenzy. She begins to claw at Emmett's broad wrists, choking and gasping for air. She's seeing enough stars on the edge of her vision to make constellations.

Oh, God, this kid is really going to kill her, isn't he?

"Hey!"

And God, Charlotte's pride vanishes the moment she hears that yell. She swells up with so much gratitude because she doesn't know if she could've lasted another minute locked between that brute's elbows. She doesn't care who's yelling - let it be the police; let it be Mrs. Tibbinski from across the street; let it be her own mother, for God's sake - she just wants it to end.

"Hey what, Kotzbrocken?" Emmett's grip falters in the slightest, but Charlotte's head is at such an ungodly angle, she can't see who the bully is addressing. The day is thick and syrupy; it's hot and she doesn't want to be bundled up against someone else's body for this long. She squirms in another attempt to free herself, but Emmett's arms latch right back around her throat.

"Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?" The voice comes again.

Charlotte blinks hard. It's a girl, definitely a girl.

"Kiss my ass, this isn't any of your business, Gottleib!" Emmett spits.

"She's not even your age!"

And suddenly the pressure on Charlotte's neck lets up. She's falling to the ground, splaying her hands flat on the dirt and cement, spitting and heaving with everything her petite frame can muster.

"You're right, Sofie. But you are."