Somehow, the moon had always looked lonely to Sabora. Up in the sky, nobody to talk to but the stars. All it did, night after night, was watch its precious Earthlings sleep until the morning sun pushed it into the background. It was such a beautiful thing, and yet no one took the time to talk to it, or make it laugh.
Sabora sat on her window seat, looking up at the waning moon high above her. Tonight it had a soft orange glow that reminded her of peaches. Her purple and black pillows surrounded her, slightly dusty from lack of use for the past month or so. She sighed softly, wondering if her mother was staring at the same moon, from some window across the world. Sabora wondered if her mother was thinking about her, or ever thought about her.
No.
Not tonight, Sabora.
Don't.
Standing, she wrapped her black and lavender striped blanket around her shoulders, the air unusually cold. Glancing at her bed, Sabora had a strong desire to not sleep in it. She needed to be near someone tonight. Someone she trusted with her life, someone she would be loyal to until the day she died.
Crossing the hallway into the room opposite hers, Sabora climbed into her dads bed and clung to him, just as she used to do. But back then her mother would be warm on the other side of her, now it was just cold. She closed her eyes and held onto her dad as if he was being torn away from her. She could feel her eyes prickling with tears. It was always hard for her, coming home from vacation to the house where she knew she would not find her mother ever again.
Her dad turned and at that point she knew her dad was awake and going to press the light switch on his lamp to see what was wrong. She reached over and felt for his hand. It was sweaty, glistening in the moonlit room.
“Dad, don't. I just need a hug,” she said, once again wrapping her arms around her dad. “I just need a hug.”
She felt him tighten his grip, then as his hand found her shoulders and pulled her in to his chest. He rubbed her hair softly, hushing her in the weariness of the night.
The water ran through Sabora's hair and down her limbs to the bathtub below. It made her feel rejuvenated, cleansed. She could practically feel the dirt and muck from the trip dripping off of her. After washing her hair, she switched off the water and exited the tub. The mirror was fogged up, but she didn't bother wiping it down because she knew what she would see if she did. The same face she saw every other day. The same face of the same girl. Sabora knew who she was, and she didn't need a mirror to confirm that.
Rubbing her palms together, she relished the feeling of her hands. She didn't feel them that often, having to wear her gloves all the time. Taking showers was the one time she could actually remove them without wrecking some type of havoc. Sabora applied lotion to her fingers, rubbing between each crevice that she could see. Then she made her way to the room without touching anything but air.
She chose a pair of light green leather gloves to wear and a short white dress that fell to her knees. To add some accent, she added a light green scarf and small green earrings, alongside green flip flops. Sabora left her curly black hair as it was, for after showers it was the curliest. Adding a touch of silver and green eyeshadow and some lip gloss, she decided she was ready for her first day back to school.
Glancing in the mirror, she smiled at herself. She knew who she was. That much she never needed to hide. Though what sat under her gloves was another story. She needed to hide that from everyone possible, or risk losing everything. She shook the thoughts out of her head as she headed downstairs.
Her dad stood at the stove flipping pancakes. He looked over at her when she walked in the door. One of his eyebrows floated upwards.
“Well don't you look mighty fine today. Blueberry pancakes, your favorite, for the big day. Is your stuff all packed?” he asked Sabora, turning back to the stove.
She peeked into the living room, decorated with all kinds of art from Africa and the Congo, and saw her shoulder bag for school on the couch where she had left it the night before.
“Yep,” she answered as a pancake flopped onto her plate.
Once her dad sat down they began to eat. Sabora poured the fresh maple syrup all over her pancakes. Then she stacked an egg and two pieces of bacon on top of it, and started in on the massive tower of food. Only after three bites did she look up to see her dad watching her, both eyebrows raised.
“Don't stop to look at me! The food is probably going to disappear, then you'll have to start all over again,” he struggled to hold in his laughter.
“Shut up, dad,” she said as she threw her spoon at him, making him burst out laughing. She stuffed a fourth bite into her mouth.
“Hey, don't blame me for your lack of breakfasts. Your the one who is usually up before me eating dry cereal,” he cracked up, throwing his head backwards.
“Dry cereal is easier to eat in the morning!” Sabora half-said, half-laughed.
“Whatever you say, sweetie,” her dad hiccuped, smiling to himself.
