The Moonwalkers [COMPLETED ✅]

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North Riverside Mall, North Riverside, Illinois, United States of America- Earth 3:01 P.M, April 24th, 2018 A.D.

“Does this dress make my fat stand out?” Jasmine inquires, scrutinizing a red dress that hugs her curvy figure in every nook and crevice possible.

I pull my most deadpan face at her. “Seriously? You look like a model.”

She sighs and continues to spin around in front of the body length mirror in the dressing room. “Let’s go. JC Penney doesn’t have a lot of variety anyway.”

I shrug. “Okay, let’s go get food then.”

Her face lights up at my suggestion, and she claps her hands happily. “Yes! Let’s go!”


“Subway!” Jasmine cheers, settling down ion a two-seated booth inside the food court.

I sit across from her, just as excited.

We both grin at each other before ripping open the paper to our deliciously toasted and smoked ham sandwiches.

“Ahh, yes!” Jasmine lets out in between bites. I can only nod in agreement, devouring half of the foot-long sandwich in a couple of bites.

“Oh, look! A monkey and her farmer friend!” a girl snickers to our left. My eyes shift over to hers and narrow.

I finish a mouthful, then wipe my mouth with my napkin. “Excuse me?”

“You’re excused illegal immigrant,” the girl returns, smiling as if what she said was the next best thing since selfies.

I smile sardonically, then get up out of my seat. Jasmine immediately grabs my arm, her eyes wide.

I give her a small reassuring smile and she lets go, biting her lip.

I walk up to the girl, who’s sitting so smug with her legs crossed on top of the table.

Although I’m of average height, at a 5′6" height, I still have to bend down to her sitting level. I smack her table with my hand. The side of the table splits off and lands with a thud on the ground. Onlookers stare. Oops, maybe I should have held back a little. Even if I’m not a full Moonwalker yet (meaning I can’t overpower any fallen angels anytime soon) I am stronger than the strongest humans. The girl’s smile starts to dim but she forces it to stay, her legs settling on the ground.

“Say that again,” I whisper, my breath fanning her face. Her wisps of light red hair move slightly.

She gulps. “I- I can have you arrested!”

I roll my eyes. “For what? For defending myself with the same tone of voice you used? Good luck with that.”

I turn away from her and sit back down in front of Jasmine, whose jaw is practically on the floor.

I dig back into my sandwich, eager to forget that ever happened. Why do humans do that? Make fun of others for looking different? They don’t judge butterflies for having different colored patterns. And who made up “races”? The human race is one race! My parents explained at an early age that we were to pretend we were ‘Latinos’, since we had the stereotypical brown skin and pretend we were from Honduras. That’s why they learned Spanish in a day, to blend in. And that’s what they taught me. I never understood why. Humans are strange.

“How did- Wait, did that just- Huh?” Jasmine stutters, bits of ham falling out of her mouth.

My nose wrinkles slightly. “I don’t know, the table was probably already broken?”

A look of disbelief crosses her face. “Why did that sound like a question?”

I shrug. “Well, what else could it be?” I ask, lowering my eyes to my sandwich. I finish the last bite.

“Well, well, well,” a voice rings out and I freeze. I know that voice. But how in the heck do we manage to be in the same places all the time?

“It’s Lonan!” Jasmine whisper-shouts, not so discreetly.

“Yeah, I kinda figured,” I mutter.

“So, I’m gonna go to the bathroom...” Jasmine trails off, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Get whatever you’re thinking out of your brain,” I snap.

“Mmhmm,” Jasmine hums happily, leaving her seat in search of the bathroom. Sure, whatever.

Lonan enters my field of view, a smirk plastering his obnoxious face and takes a seat in front of me.

’What do you want?” I bite at him, crossing my arms on top of the table.

His smirk instantly vanishes. “You’re one of them aren’t you?”

I decide to play innocent and ask, “One of them?”

“A Moonwalker,” he says, distaste swirling in his words.

“So what if I was?” I query, raising an eyebrow. “What would you do?”

His eyes harden and once again, the same feeling enters my stomach. But I stand my ground.

He stares for a while, neither of us breaking eye contact.

After what seems like hours he looks away first, his tongue sweeping over his bottom lip. “I guess we’ll see, won’t we?” He stands and looks over at me once more, his eyes icy.

Then he leaves, taking my wariness along with him. I let out a sigh of relief. Nope. Don’t think I’ll get along with the likes of him anytime soon.

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