What’s a Luna

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Chapter 6

After, 3rd hour was 4th hour which I am sure you knew.

But still,4th hour was actually somewhat normal. It was an art class, ceramics. But not only did I feel like I wasn't going to pass this class without Taylor, my other friend from my old school. For she was the one with artistic talent where I was sadly lacking the skill at keeping two pieces of clay together without breaking and grumbling apart from my touch. Then again my older sister did have a talent for making pottery. She could sit at the wheel for hours and just make whatever came to mind. Sometimes I would just sit and watch, hypnotized by it. But she is another story that I do not want to get into. That always ends with me in a blubbering mess on the ground hiding in a corner making weird animal noises while listening to sad music. And no she did not die. Well technically she is not dead, to me at least.

Okay I have already started telling you this story about my sister so I mind as well explain.

It was 5 years ago. She was 17 and almost out of high school. I was 11. I was sitting in my room with my math book in my lap while I was on the bed. I had a pen behind my ear and a pencil in my hand while I chew on the tip of the eraser lost in thought.

"Are you going to stare at the book all day or are you going to join the land of the living?" My sister asked leaning up against the door with her arms crossed. She had a smile on her face that could light up any room. She was at the top of her class and had all the guys falling to her feet even if she didn't see it. And I know most younger siblings didn't like the fact of growing in their older sibling's shadow. But I had to admit I wanted to be just like her when I got older. That's why I always studied so hard all throughout middle school. I wanted to make sure to get into all the honors classes and have the best grades I could possibly have.

"I'll be right down." I said after a pause. I closed my book and placed my pen and pencil in the deformed clay mug I had made that was placed on my night stand.

"I was actually hoping you would come to the store with me real quickly." She said and I nodded my head. There was only one thing that made us so different from one another. She wasn't a witch. Yes. She was my father's daughter. But she never was able to cast a spell. No matter how hard she would study, no matter how hard she tried she just couldn’t do it. Our father had said that because mom was human that her not having powers would be a possibility. It's just that she was so perfect that everyone was surprised when they figured out she wasn't a witch. So that was why we were both looked at so differently.

I got ready really quickly and ran down the stairs to the front door. But when I reached for the metal door handle I felt a shock of electricity run through me making me stop in my tracks. I always hated that feeling. Even to this day when i get that feeling I know something bad is going to happen. It always does. The first time I got this feeling everyone had ignored me saying it was my imagination. But 3 hours later my grandma had taken her last breath laying in her bed, for Huntington had killed her.

I knew something bad was going to happen and it was always in 3 hours. I was tempted to tell my sister that we should stay home and go to the story in 4 hours just to be safe. So I did. But just like every other time they would shrug it off and say it was fine. That was always something I hated about people. Was that they didn't listen. And when it came down to it everyone thought that nothing bad would ever happen to them. But I knew. I knew that bad things, bad people, lurched around every corner. Something bad could always happen to you. Even if you just sat there. Your lung could collapse or you could have a heart attack. Know one was safe. Bad things will happen to you just like good things will happen. That's why they say you take the good with the bad.

My sister had moved past me and opened the door. She held it open for me and when I walked out of the house she closed it behind me. If I knew I couldn't get her to listen to me then I would just have to make sure we made it home in 3 hours.

But when you make a plan. They don't always turn out the way you want them to be.

We were driving back from the store and I had my eyes on the clock. Of course my sister had to talk to everyone she knew. Leaving us with little time to get home. There were many times that I would watch my sister carefully to make sure she wasn't going to have a stroke right in front of me. And thankfully she didn't. In fact we had made it home safely. But my guard wasn't down. I knew something bad was going to happen and I wanted to make sure that it didn't happen.

It still happened.


My sister was out in the front yard reading her book while taking in the bright sun. It only took a blink of an eye for all of that to disappear for a 17 year old girl who had a life ahead of her. A plan. Something to look forward to. All of that disappeared. All of it. And all I took was a car to not see the stop sign and at the last minute slam on their brakes only to slide right into our driveway and hit her head on.

That's how it started. People were rushing around. They called 911 and hey were on their way.

I had run out of the house and it seemed like everything was in slow motion. I could hear the pounding of my feet hit the ground. I could feel my hands shake while tears wanted to run down my face but I didn't let them. I had already convinced myself she would be alright.

I slid next to her and laid her head in my lap. Her face was bloody and her clothes were ripped and stained. But that's not what made me break down and start crying. No.

It was when we were in the hospital and she had woken up. She looked right at me and asked.

"Who are you?"

It broke my heart. I could feel my heart shatter and fall into my stomach. I was utterly. Broken.

A week later the doctors had taken her in for brain surgery to fix the problem and hopefully get her memory back.

It worked. For like a second.

When my sister woke up she looked around and I grabbed her hand to hold it in my tiny ones. She looked at me and smiled.

"Ashley" she whispered before her eyes rolled to the back of her head.

She was now on life's support.

I had remembered freaking out in the small hospital room.

"Wake up! You can't leave me! I said you c-can't leave me," I said and felt a surge of energy. I placed my hands in hers and I don't know what I was doing but it seemed to be working. She was waking up. But I was feeling tired.

"Ashley no!" My dad yelled and pulled me away from her.

"I can fix her I can fix her. She can't leave . She cant leave me. It's my fault it's all my fault. I should have done something. I Should have done more. I could have saved her. I can fix her, let me fix her," I said kicking and screaming. My dad wouldn't let go of me. I remembered him whispering lowly in my ear that if I continued I would die. But I didn't seem to care.

For I'm sure she could have done what I couldn't.

She could have kept the family together.

The bell rang which snapped me out of my thoughts. I stood up and walked out of the classroom.

My parents had tried to do the whole not mentioning her around me. We used to visit every day. But everyday turned to every other week. Which ended up every other three months. And now that we moved away. I know my parents had made the final decision to pull the plug. I just wish I could have got the chance to say goodbye.

I cleared my throat and wiped the tears away that had fallen.

So yeah. After the 4th hour was lunch.

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