Chapter 1- She belongs to the moon

It was a space with no place, a present that did not contain time, a field that could not be measured by length or width, an instant that could not be counted by minutes or seconds. It was nothing more but a waste land that was once briefly touched by destiny.

It could only be measured by lousy moments, drunken thoughts and intense feelings. It was the place that attracted all the wicked while the pure would rest in peace in their beds, blessed, never to set foot in here.

Conolyn called it “the moon” because it looked like it. There was no discription more fitting for it. It was located on the flat surface of a hill, between the borders of the rich and poor side of town. In tottal it was about the size of a stadium. The ground was grey, it looked like dessert sand. Conolyn had examined it curiously the first time she saw it. She picked up a handful and looked at it, smelled it, weigted it. It was dirt and cement.

There were big, spacious holes on the ground just like the ones Conolyn had seen in pictures of the moon. It was darker than night but you could see all of the stars clearly. There were no city lights in the area. During the full moon nights everything turned a bright, sparkling silver. The scenery was otherwordly.

People knew about this abandoned field, with the tremenduous view. However very few would dare to set foot there. It was well known that it had a bad reputation. People went there at night, up to nothing good. Conolyn called them “truth seekers”. She called them that because the moon was the only place in the country where the truth about the fractured world they lived in was obvious (to the naked eye). Other than that in a strange way, this place tended to reveal destinies. It reached down to the core of peoples true self.

It had numerous colossal hummocks of dirt and dried cement around. They looked like small mountains. Groups of people were hiding behind them to do their business. No one went to the center of it. The empty space in the center was a vulnerable position.It was accessible from every angle.

However Conolyn liked it there in the open. It looked like an enormous stage featuring the twinkling lights of the city. She loved the antithesis. You could see the city from up there, exactly as it was. Cut in half. Half of it was warm and beautiful with many different collors of lights and big flashy buildings,stadioums, enormous statues, delicate churches, art museums and fun parks always lit like it was christmass. Everything was newly built with the best materials.

In the contrary the other half of it was cold and dark. The few lights it had were icy white, like the ones you see in hospitals or buchershops. The buildings were old, most of them partly destroyed, ready to colapse. You could see red small lights if you looked hard enough and dancing flames and smoke. They were burning their garbage there and that often went wrong.

The only good thing in it was the side of the Parthenon. It was poorly lit and looked lonely and sullen. However anyone could see its infirm glory and the brilliance of mind behind it. It was right on top of the poor half of town, looking down to the abjection of the grey and humid city, in dispair.

As her eyes wondered left to right from the poorest to the richest side of the city Conolyn could feel the contradiction in her like a tight grip on her heart. She had been part of both in her life time, and now she was part of none. She belonged to this hill now. She belonged to the moon.

She looked at the groups of people in the area, sitting around their camp fire's weak flame. Some were closer than others and most were of her own. Her eyes stood on a small group of kids, not older than seventeen. Newcomers. They all had courage in their eyes and terror in their hearts.

They knew that once they set their foot in the moon, they were living on borrowed time. But it didn't matter anymore. All the glory and nobility this world had seen, were virtues of a phantasmic time. Everything good was lying dead behind them, in some cold past, less eventful than the present.

“That's how they make a soldier out of a child.”She whispered, standing there in the silence, alone. She wanted to cry but instead she felt a flow of bravery passing through her. It made her feel strong and euforic in her despair.

She approached the edge of the hill slowly, untill she could feel the rocks colapsing, underneath the tip of her combat boots. For a brief momment fear got the better of her. Maybe someone would push her, she could trip and fall. Yet she didn't move, neither thought of it. In fact she wasn't sure she cared.

As Conolyn stood there, looking forward, at the sky and her broken little town, it was like she was floating. The picture in front of her was imposible to entirely behold. She felt futile and small. Everything felt futile and small. Like nothing mattered anymore.

Whenever she looked at a view as wide and deep as this one, a hollowness filled her. Humanity was not valuable at that instant, it wasn't even significant. She could hear the world breathing and could see all its places and all the people. It felt so big that it made everything else seem uncertain, aimless and wrong. Like there was no reason straggling to find a place in this world, or a purpose. Like life was nothing more but a worthless way to spend time. Maybe it was because of the drunkness that always ancompanied her, or maybe the failed life that she led. But that's how she felt in front of this view.

She didn't like that feeling, but could never resist it. It made her feel calm and careless, almost paralysed, but at the same time, inconsolable.It was the truest feeling Conolyn had ever felt. Truer than life and death, more honnest than love and hunger, more actual than the need to breathe and fullfilling, like it was God given.