The Burning Crescent Moon || Slow updates

Two | part 1

Within the safe was a box. It wasn't big, but not small either. In fit perfectly in the rectangular safe. I pulled it out and was surprised by how heavy it was. I put it down on the only table in the room; a huge square wooden table with lots of chairs around it. I checked if there was anything else in the safe, but it was completely empty so I closed it again with the key.

I sat down and pulled the box towards me. It was a beautiful box. The sides were carved out and showed beautiful wolves running through woods. The top had intricate swirls that all came together in the middle and formed a circle with a crescent moon in the middle of it. The swirls and moon were painted white, but the paint had faded over the years. A simple lock in the front of the box kept it close. I only had to lift it up to open the box.

With a thumping heart that felt like it was about to explode I opened the box. There wasn't much inside and my heart sank a little. The weight had mostly come from the box itself. The first thing my eyes fell upon was a small cotton pouch. It was dark purple with little stars on it. I wrapped my fingers around and lifted it from the paper it was resting on. My eyes glances over the words written on the paper and I stopped with my hand in the air. Crescent, 3 months, it read. I picked the paper up with my other hand, feeling a smooth surface on the other side of it. I turned it around and couldn't stop my heart from skipped a beat.

It was a photo of three people: a woman who looked down at the baby in her arms with a loving smile on her lips and a man that leaned forwards just a bit, in the middle of kissing the baby on her forehead. The little girl was peacefully sleeping.

That little girl was me. And those two people were my parents. I couldn't describe the feeling that looking at the picture gave me. Something was pressing on my chest and it radiated warmth throughout my limbs. I finally could put a face to the people I called my parents.

From what I could see I looked exactly like my mother. Her auburn hair was cut in a bob, making the waves of it hug her face. The bridge of her nose slightly protruded, just like mine, and had a few freckles on it. Her smile was light and bright, with a dimple on her right cheek. Her skin was fair and beautifully pale. It wasn't a white, sickening pale, but a delicate, peachy paleness. Her eyes were turned downwards because she was looking at baby me, but I could she the glowing brown of them, like honey.

My father was different from what I had imagined. He had dark brown, almost black hair that reached his ears and spurted every direction in uncontrolled curls. They hid most of his face, but I knew without doubt that they had to be green like mine. His skin was in complete contrast with that of my mother or my own. It was various shades darker than ours, making it look as if he had spent hours in the sun. They were both dressed in nice clothes, while I was wrapped in a light green blanket.

I couldn't stop staring at them. At the picture. But curiosity got the better of me and I put the picture on the table next to the box where I still could see it clearly. I turned my attention back to the pouch in my other hand and pulled the strings apart. I tilted it upside down and let its content fall into my hand. It was a necklace.

It was a full moon, with details of the craters and all, with a crescent moon on top of it. The surface of the crescent moon was smooth and in contrast with the full moon. The pendent was small and hanging on a delicate chain. Both were a rose-gold colour. I rolled my eyes at all the moons; on the box, the necklace and my name. My parents really laid it on thickly. But it made my heart swell. This was all meant for me. I never knew my parents and being in the foster system... well, it was just very nice to know that someone loved me so much.

There were more pictures, mostly of me until the age of two - the year my parents died. But there were a few of them as well, showing off their smiles and their happiness. But what laid underneath the photo's was what was most important. It was an envelope with my name on it. The paper was old, like the pictures, but still in great condition. The envelope wasn't sealed, so I opened it and pulled out a letter. My heart pounded and my hands were so sweaty I was afraid I would soak the paper.