XII Moons

Nobody ever thinks that their parents might die one day. If you do, maybe you think it’ll be a peaceful slumber. Old, wrinkled, lying in the comfort of a warm bed and muttering some dying final wish. Perhaps that’s how I thought it would happen. Not on a night of a new moon where we’re all laughing and talking about the future. Not on the day we’re celebrating my first step into adulthood. Not after toasting our cups, of various drinks, over the raging bonfire.

It happened so fast, but it felt like an eternity.

It started with a nosebleed; we all smelled the sudden scent of iron lingering in our nostrils. Father wiped it away on the back of his sleeve, smearing his ivory cheeks with the deep crimson color. He looked around at all of us who were staring at him in surprise and then laughed it off as if it were nothing.

Then the scent became stronger.

I could taste the metallic scent in the back of my throat. I chugged down my wine and as I moved to get a refill, mother keeled over vomiting blood into the grass and dirt. My heart raged against my chest, the wild rhythm pounding in my ears, the whole world seemed to hold its breath. Before anyone could figure out what was going on, father fell upon his hands and knees. Blood gushed out of his eyes and nose, he gritted his teeth as the pain coursed through his body, his skin rippled beneath his clothes as the beast within him fought to get away.

“PROTECT THEM!” He screamed, sending a wave of panic through the onlookers and myself.

I can’t remember if I was screaming or crying as I was whisked away from the scene by the others. I can’t remember if my mother cried out our names or if that was simply her reaction to her insides being melted to mush. I don’t know what we did after that. Did Cyllene, my sister, attempt to comfort me? Did she lock me away and ask them not to let me out? Did that night actually happen?