Chapter 1 Luna
Luna (1)
As am walking down the hollow way I can’t help but realizing how the place is peaceful and silent you can feel the gentle breeze blowing , so silent that I can hear my breath I found shadowing tree that one especially I use to site under as long as I can remember the place almost seems the same feel same as I take a site and take deep breath it’s been a while since I visit this place I almost forgot how it feel like to be relief this is when all come to me at once , i start remembering everything , everything I've been avoiding , everything I've been scared of so far all the questions that am not finding answer to it, a lot been happening way more then I can process and can’t blame no one but myself and at remembering of the memories i just feel suffocated I just found my tears dropping down there is this voice telling to me to let go and the other voice telling me that’s all you got you can’t let go as I was down I feel my heart beat raise and I start to hear different voices all hit me at once and my hand start shaking,my breathing is escalating as I struggle to breathe and i felt like my chase is tightening i reach my hand to my bag as i was trying was looking for my inhaleram sure i leave it there however i dont seems to find it , i try to cool myself down and take a deep breath while releasing it slowly i heard that help to calming the nerve down but it seems like even the moment of silence isn’t peaceful and empty place Isn’t always isolating maybe hunted well at less hunted by your own thoughts I found my hand on my face trying to force myself to relax but My mind pulls me backward four years ago, to a day that felt exactly the same when i first started high school ,i woke up in morning,dont misunderstand me am not a school person or something at all, i never was and i will never be but every year same time i have this kind of excitement for the first day of the school its more like i like the school vibe and not the school itself but the medicine of this excitement always been given to us at the first period , and this is when i realized that all this excitement was illusion and , i wake up at the voice of my mom calling me for breakfast and that she is late as always because of us , well thats not new to be heard really as a nurse i dont really think anyone will have a time for shit , so i walk to the bathroom dropping some cold water in my face trying to shake off the sleep but sound , the warm shower make it even worse now i just feel like to go back to the bed with hot chocolate , however i think mom have different idea about that , just find myself heading down to the kitchen at the idea of just hearing that long lecture of how if not because of studying hard she wouldn't be who she is now although its true but am tired of hearing it over and over , so i just save myself some unnecessary headache and unnecessary hustle and i carry my legs downstairs to the kitchen before i got my butt kicked all the way from home to the school and there she is, standing near the sink, hair tied in a messy bun, hospital ID swinging from her neck, clearly written on top line
Name : Carla Mitchell
BNS, RN
Obviously she mastered multitasking between checking the time and reminding me that “education waits for no one.” She says it every year like it’s a sacred spell that’s supposed to make me jump out of bed and turn into a straight-A student. Her coffee’s gone cold, but she’s too busy tapping her watch and mumbling about hospital rounds and traffic. It’s like she’s racing the clock and lecturing me at the same time, a true talent she’s perfected over the years. I tiptoe to grab my toast, hoping I can escape before the “first day pep talk” begins, but of course, she will notice . She always does , I sit down beside Emily and she is already halfway through her cereal, pretending not to hear any of it. Smart move. She gives me that look, the one that says, “Good luck surviving the lecture.” I swear, if eye rolls burned calories, she’d be in Olympic shape by now. So I just smiled sarcastically and put my poured myself some juice
“Good morning. How was your night? I didn’t see you coming yesterday,”
I said, my voice sharper than I meant it to be. I kept my eyes on the counter, pretending to spread butter on cold toast.
“It was fine,”
Mom answered without looking up. The word fell flat, like it had somewhere better to be. She was still in her scrubs, hair pulled into that same messy bun she wore yesterday morning.
“You didn’t have to wait up,” she added after a moment, her tone softer but distant.
“I wasn’t waiting,” I said too fast.
Her lips curved slightly, not quite a smile, more like a reminder that she could read me even when she didn’t have the time to.
“Mhm,”
she murmured, rinsing her cup under the sink. The clinking sound filled the silence that followed, awkward and familiar all at once.
Emily sat at the table, cereal in hand, clearly wishing she could disappear. She glanced at me, then back at Mom, her expression saying don’t start it now, Luna.
“You know, Luna,”
Mom started, glancing at the clock on the wall,
“If you spent half as much time preparing for your day as you do waiting for mine to end, you’d be early for once.”
I bit my tongue. There it was the morning lecture disguised as casual advice.
She grabbed her keys from the counter, the ID still swinging around her neck. “Come on, both of you, let's move! We’re already late.”
Emily shoved the last spoonful of cereal into her mouth, and I grabbed my bag, my toast still untouched.
“We’ll talk later”
Mom said quickly, kissing the air between us — too rushed for a real goodbye. Then she was gone, her footsteps fading down the hall, leaving the kitchen heavy with everything we didn’t say.
I exhaled, finally letting my shoulders drop. “Good talk,” I muttered under my breath.
Emily smirked. “Classic Mom.”
And just like that, the day had officially begun .
Mom’s car smelled like coffee and hospital air, that strange mix of caffeine and disinfectant that somehow followed her everywhere. Emily sat in the front, swinging her legs and talking nonstop about her new art project, while I stared out the window, watching the streets blur by.
Mornings were always like this, a race against time. Mom had to be at the hospital by eight, which meant she dropped us off on her way. Emily’s school was a few blocks before mine, just off the same main road that led to the hospital. Convenient, she always said. Efficient.
For her, maybe. As for me, it just meant waking up an hour earlier than I needed to.
We stopped outside Emily’s school first, the car jerking slightly as Mom hit the brakes. Emily jumped out, waving at her friends before disappearing through the gate. Her laughter lingered for a second before fading into the noise of the morning traffic.
The car suddenly felt quieter and heavier.
She looked at me from the rearview mirror and as is she is trying to read my face
“You’ll be fine”
Mom said after a long pause, eyes still fixed on the road ahead.
“It’s just high school.”
Just high school. She made it sound so small. But to me, it felt like walking into a whole new world, one I wasn’t sure I was ready for.
I glanced at her from the back seat. Her face looked tired, the kind of tired no amount of sleep could fix. The hospital ID still hung from her neck, tapping softly against her chest each time she turned the steering wheel. She looked strong like she always did but something in her eyes said she was running on empty.
“Try to make new friends,”
she added, glancing at me through the rearview mirror with a warm smile.
“I’ll try,” I said quietly.
She smiled faintly, the corner of her lips curving up just enough to look like hope. Then the light turned green, and we were moving again , toward my school, toward her hospital, and toward first day
I swung my bag over my shoulder and started toward the school gates. That familiar flutter hit me again, not fear this time, just that weird kind of excitement that only comes with new beginnings.
I glanced back at the car, watching it fade into the morning traffic, until
“Watch out!”
A voice snapped me out of my thoughts. I barely had time to turn before Debbie was standing right in front of me, arms crossed, eyebrows raised like I’d just committed a crime.
“Wow,” she said, half laughing. “Planning to get run over on the first day? That’s one way to make an entrance.”
I smiled, shaking my head. “Guess I was lost in thought. Again.”
“Clearly.” She leaned closer. “I called you yesterday — twice. Thought you’d been kidnapped or something.”
I groaned.
“I was waiting for Mom to get home. Ended up crashing early. You know how it goes.”
“Oh, right,” Debbie said, rolling her eyes playfully. “Nurse Mom, hero of the world, destroyer of sleep schedules.”
That made me laugh the first real laugh of the morning.
“You’re not wrong.”
“Of course I’m not. I’m always right.” She nudged my arm as we started walking toward the school together.
“Now come on, before we’re late. I am not doing another first-day sprint because of your dramatic slow-motion exits.”I bumped her shoulder lightly.
“You love my dramatic exits.”
“Sure,” she said, grinning.
“And I love being yelled at by teachers a little more.”
We both laughed as we reached the school gates.
“First day of high school huh ” Debbie said, sighing dramatically. “New teachers, new rules, same ugly uniforms.”
I smirked. “Tell me about the awkward introductions and the fake ‘summer was amazing’ stories.”
“Right,” she said.“Can’t wait to lie about how productive I was.”
We both burst into laughter, the sound mixing with the chatter of students ahead and just like that, the weight I’d been carrying all morning felt a little lighter.
The memory cracks apart when the sound of leaves crunching underfoot brings me back , I blink, and the past dissolves the present floods in again. My chest still burns, but at least I can breathe again.
My thoughts scatter like I’m trying to hold myself together, trying to process what just happened. The air is quiet, heavy, until a sudden voice breaks it.
I freeze. I thought I was alone.No one comes here, not at this hour.
The voice comes from behind me, low and steady, with a vibration that seems to sink straight into my chest. It’s the kind of tone you don’t forget.
“There you go,” he says.
I turn my head slightly and he's holding something out to me. My inhaler.
I snatch it from his hand and take a deep breath, the rush of air stinging my lungs.
“You okay?” he asks.
I quickly wipe my eyes and force a smile before looking up. “Yeah… I’m fine now,” I mumble, then whisper under my breath,
“as fine as I can be.
“Well, glad to hear that,” he replies, then adds with a faint smirk, “if that’s what you’re saying.”
I blink. Really? What's his reaction? He looks completely unfazed, calm, borderline amused.
“Thank you,” I say flatly.“What?”
“I said thank you. You know, in situations like this, people usually say thank you,” he says, that smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth again.
I realize he’s teasing me,and worse, he’s right. I hadn’t even thanked him properly. Before I can answer, he looks away toward the trees, takes a slow breath, and mutters under his breath,He glances around the empty path, then back at me. “If this is how you spend your evenings, I’d hate to see your mornings,” he says, his tone low but edged with sarcasm.
I blink, caught between offense and confusion.
“Are you always this charming, or is it just tonight?”
He shrugs lightly.
“Just making an observation. You look like the world’s closing in, and you’re out here alone.”
“Maybe I like the quiet,” I say flatly.
“Right,” he replies.
“Crying in the quiet. Classic.”
My jaw tightens.
“And you? Wandering around handing out inhalers to strangers, that is your hobby?”
He pauses, then smirks just enough to be irritating.
“Only on full moons.”
My stomach tightens, ouch. He’s not even trying to sound kind.
He notices my silence and lifts his hands slightly. “Hey, I’m just teasing.”
“Well, your sense of humor’s terrible,” I shot back. “For the record.”
He chuckles low, almost like he didn’t expect me to answer back. “I wasn’t crying,” I added quickly, standing my ground. “Something just got in my eye. And I can’t handle bright light without my glasses.”
“At night?” he asks, eyebrows raised.
“There’s barely two lamps and the moon’s half-asleep.”
I give him a tight, sarcastic smile.
“Bad day. I’m allowed one, right?”
He tilts his head, mock surrender. “Chill. I didn’t mean any harm.” Then softer, almost to himself,
“Although you were crying.”
My glare must’ve said enough because he immediately adds,
“Okay, okay. No more teasing.”
This guy’s unbelievable, I think. In a situation like this, most people would comfort you not stand there tossing smart remarks.
Then, surprisingly, he stretches a hand toward me. “Need a hand?”
For a second, I consider ignoring him, maybe even rolling my eyes. But something about his voice pulls me in. Deep, warm, annoyingly steady. So instead, I take his hand.
His grip is firm, grounding, and when I stand, that’s when I really see him.
He looks… familiar. Not in a way I can name more like a face from a faded dream. Around five-foot-ten, maybe, dark thick hair that almost covers his forehead, and those eyes hazel, sharp, like they see more than they should.
“Luka,” he says.I blink, caught off guard.
He notices the confusion on my face and smiles faintly. “That’s my name. Luka Hayes .”
“Right,” I manage.
“In situations like this, people usually reply with their name,” he adds, teasing again.
“Oh. Silly me. It’s Luna Carter,” I say quickly.
And suddenly there is a peeping sound that breaks the silence and that was his phone he looked at it and his reaction swap as if he he saw something
“Well,” he says, smiling as he steps back,with a smirk he added “not the best timing, but it was terrible to meet you, Luna .”
He wanted to clarify “I know another teasing” he smiled and just like that, he turned and walked away as if this whole weird encounter meant nothing.
But something about him lingers that tug of familiarity, the way he appeared out of nowhere.What’s he even doing here? No one comes this deep into the park, especially near the cemetery path.
I run a hand through my hair, still catching my breath. Maybe I’m overthinking it. Maybe he was just passing by.
Still… that face, that voice.
He might be an arrogant jerk ,but I wouldn’t have minded if he stayed a little longer.
And that thought alone?Yeah. I’m definitely losing it
