1.1 | rainbows after storms • knj ✓

003

THE MOONCHILD sits on the grass, gazing at the stars, counting them as his thoughts process. A smile is etched on his face as he finally writes a sentence in his book. But at times, the moonchild doesn't know what to write, his mind doesn't help him sometimes and he just sits in silence in the park. When his heart aches for his family and he misses them, when he misses the familiar faces from his small town, or when the words thrown at him by people are harsher than usual and when they sting him, he is here.

"You're always so clumsy"

"Honestly, the lyrics aren't that good."

"You're not good at anything!"

"I don't think rap is your thing.."

The moonchild's heart cries. Oh, his heart cries of all these words. He almost wants to give up when he hears these words, but then he remembers that very day he had fought with his parents, to give him one chance to prove how good he is, give him one chance to do something he was good at. Because if he would lose this one chance, he would lose himself. He remembers the passion that boy had two years ago, when he had this fire in him to prove his worth, and then all these words fade. All of the voices which he hears at night when he is lonely vanishes into thin air. He can only hear his voice, his dreams, his thoughts. He can only hear himself then.

The moonchild spots another moonchild one day. You. He often finds you around the store, or sometimes walking towards the library. He is curious as to why you always hide your face in your hoodie. Were you also afraid of people judging you? Were you hiding from their stares? Or you're generally shy? The hoodie is covered just enough to recognize who you are, but it's not enough to judge your expressions from afar. But that night, where you're sitting in the park staring at your phone, he tries to decipher your expressions. So many expressions on your face, sad, hurt, betrayal, anxious.

Tears welled up in your eyes, your eyebrows creasing. The moonchild always has this urge to comfort people when they're crying, because he knows how it is to be crying alone. He doesn't want to tell them that it's okay, he just wants to be a shoulder to cry on for them. But he couldn't do that today as you don't know each other, so he helplessly saw you fidgeting your fingers on your phone.

The moonchild was kind but clumsy. When he wants to help people, he always ends up messing it up somehow, and then he blames himself for that. He blames himself again when his foot steps on the branch of the tree.

When you were startled and ran away from there, he felt bad. He hoped you didn't think of him as a stalker. This was not how he had imagined his first encounter with you. Moonchild reached home, his eyes staring out the window. It was 6:00 A.M. The Sun rising, it's rays on his face making him shine even more. Even though he didn't sleep last night, he was cheerful. A hopeful smile forms on his lips, his dimples showing. He was hopeful of the new beginnings. He was hopeful of the new opportunities. He was hopeful of the new day.

word count : 572