Among the Moonlight

“Are you even listening to me? Estelle?” Nope. You can bet a million bucks that I’m not.

“Yep, I sure am...” Not. She rolls her eyes obviously knowing by now that I was distracted by my own thoughts. She didn’t seem to mind and just changes the radio station to fit her taste. McKenzie starts wailing to Lady Gaga...I think…Or maybe it was Ke$ha?

“Sorry but we’ve basically listened to your music the whole way here,” she whines.

Oh boo hoo, I thought. I fidget in my seat and chip the blue nail polish on my nails—I didn’t like the color anyways.

I hated this car. It was a flashy red Jetta; cute car but way too obnoxious for me. I bet McKenzie picked it out hoping that guys would be drawn to the bright red color. She was like a wannabe slut. She acted kind of…whore-y and said she did slutty things, but I knew here since she was like five. She definitely lied about it. I doubt she even knew where her own crotch was.

I began to take out my iPod already getting fed up with this lame “music.”

“Oh c’mon Stella! It’s not that bad. Any who, you’re going to a damn party that’s gonna play this ‘crap’ too.” I roll my eyes again which I’m starting to notice is quite a common occurrence. “Listen to me for once. I love ya for who are you are, you gotta know that okay? But guys…They just don’t seem to be digging the whole ‘scene’ thing. I mean you’re like eighteen and single for just as long…”

I sigh loud and obnoxiously. I didn’t look weird tonight! I straightened my brown dipped red hair and was wearing blue converse with skinny white jeans and a nautical star shirt. I call that pretty classy. Anyways, my makeup was probably lighter than Micky’s.

“So,” I mutter. “My goal in life is not to find a guy. I am a strong independent woman.” And with that, I switch the song over the Metallica and stick my tongue out at her.

So what if she had beautiful curly blond hair with striking hazel eyes? I like being ugly. It helps me to lay low under the radar.

“Where is this thing anyway? We’ve, well you have, been driving for like seven hours,” I grumble. Not that my drunkard father would care if his “princess” isn’t home by sunset tomorrow. Sucks sometimes to have no one care about you except for your poser friend.

“I think it’s in some town called…uhh…Dahlia?” she didn’t sound sure enough to me.

I look out the window and it seemed like we were in the middle of nowhere. I mean to begin with, Vermont is a small state no one cares about, but still—this place was in the middle of freaking nowhere. It was pitch-black outside and eerily quiet. We obviously weren’t close. There were no street signs, no shops, or even houses. We were simply surrounded by a nightmare of haunting woods; the kind of woods where anyone or anything could hide.

With every minute that passed, I was becoming even more curious as to what provoked someone like me to go to a party. It’s okay, I reassure myself. Most likely, no one you will know will be there. Or they’ll be too drunk to notice how I got an invite.

“Who’s party?” I ask trying to act cool and collected. I wonder where their parents went…

“Um, some person’s cousin or friend or something’s brother’s sister who knew this guy who dated this girl and his friend actually is the one who lives there? I don’t know…But it’s something like thatit always is.” Yeah, that definitely makes sense. Whatever…it’s just a dumb party.

Just faintly I hear the buzz of music that slowly grew louder…and then came the glow of lights.

The lines of cars were everywhere so Micky just squeezes the car into a spot and orders me out so I can’t chicken out and stay in the car. I take my fringe bag with me not trusting other people.

“Don’t except any drinks from other people” is the line I tell myself over and over again until the gothic mansion came into view.

“Is this some type of joke?” I ask Micky, but when I turn around, I’ve already lost her. I can’t believe someone would throw a party in a home this magnificent. The stone mansion was surrounded by an iron fence that was left open. The lawn was freshly cut, but covered in cups, trash, and tongue-tied couples.

Some type of Skrillex song was clearly audible as I step into this gorgeous home. I instantly hated whoever lived here because they owned my freaking dream house. To my right was a classic formal living room with red velvet couches and a blazing fireplace. I was drawn to the room by an invisible string. Before I could even take a step, someone taps me on the shoulder and I jump ready to put my eighth grade self-defense class into practice.

Instead, a skinny blond girl who looked a little bit older than me laughed at my jumpiness. She had gleaming and bitchy brown eyes.

“Sorry sweetheart, but that’s off limits. You can look, but that’s it,” she sasses and looks at me curiously knowing that I obviously didn’t belong. I could feel my face heating up with embarrassment.

She left disappearing into the swarm of bodies on the other side of the house which obviously looked like the party half. I glance back once more into the alluring living room realizing the room led to another large dining room with a sparkling chandelier.

Parting with a dream, I make my way over to the other room. It smells like a mix of cologne, perfume, alcohol, urine, and major body odor. Yeah, this was a great idea! Stellar choice!

This room had very high ceilings and hundreds of dirty bodies grinding together like some trashing New York club. I take one very large breath and start to squirm my way through the dancing bodies. A few times I was grabbed and yelped loudly knowing my distress was muted by the loud music. To my surprise, I find large oak double doors. I bust through them into an industrial-looking expensive kitchen. I take a breath of relief and pull my already tired body onto a metal stool. Never ever again! I hate you so much right now McKenzie!

I could always wait out the party here, right? The room was oddly quiet despite the fact the room just through those doors was alive and boisterous. I could also wait outside by her car, too…No, creepy drunk people. No way.

  I knew someone was going to burst in the kitchen eventually, but no so quietly.

“Hey pretty,” he slurs. I jump again and turn to see a fairly attractive blond surfer-type guy smiling at me with that completely wasted look in his eyes.

“Cool…I like Goth girls. You’re like…hot!” He lunges at me I guess to get some lip smacking time, but I scurry away from his disgusting self while he smashes dramatically into the counter top and begins to curse me off for being such a prude bitch. This is why I hate guys. I look around quickly weighing my options. I was not going back out there—that I was sure of.

Again, I feel that string pulling me towards a hallway. It was quiet. My thoughts of that girl came back into my head. Would the owners really care if a teen just sat on the floor or a couch seat? I continue to justify my reason for trespassing as I creep to the entryway and step onto the dark wood floors. They creaked under my weight and I wince at the slight noise. What if the parents were over here? That almost might be better though…

I walk slowly down the candle lit halls. They glow as bright as light bulbs. Then, right before me was a woman maybe about twenty-five who looked tired and aged beyond her years. She had thin red hair that was loosely tied into a bun. She was sitting in an armchair contently sewing a scarf and was simply dressed in a black and white dress; a maid of course. Loaded. She glances up at me and I bite my lip. Shoot. She looked like she might yell at me, but as if she could sense my pure curiosity, she softens her features and sighs.

“Don’t break anything,” she murmurs with a faint Irish accent.

I smile with my whole face feeling like a kid in a candy store. I walk a little further and realiz I was in the dining room. The table was grandly set with an array of gold plates and goblets. This all felt so unreal. Maybe this was a secret royal family from some unknown island. Pushing down my ridiculous thoughts, I brush my hand along the gold plate and felt guilty for touching it.

Getting lost in the various rooms, I finally wander down a corridor that opened up into a large library with a narrow upper level that traced the perimeter of the room. Large floor to ceiling windows allowed light to pool in on all the books and a large C-shaped couch. Perfect waiting area for the evening. I sit down on the cold black leather seat and somehow felt calm. The full moon was brighter than ever before and I wondered why.

Maybe these people had a son I could pretend to date. There was just no way I could ever forget about this place. I finally felt like I belonged somewhere even thought it was just a big ass mansion.

“Well how did you get here?”

Holy shit! I gasp so loudly that there was no way he couldn’t have heard me.

On the opposite side of the couch, a man or a teenager glares at me still in the dark. All I could see were glowing green eyes; fancy contacts I assume. Either way, they were still creepy and alluring at the same time. He slides further into view and that’s when I become star struck.

 He had porcelain pale skin and messy black hair. He was grinning like girls always found him painfully attractive. He was lean and you could see the muscles tightening and relaxing under his clothing. Lounging, he lazily swooshes around the blue contents in his glass.

“What are you doing here?” I spit out trying to come off as a bitch.

“I’m not into these types of parties that much,” he says smoothly. He obviously looked around my age, but his voice sounded older—almost ancient.

“Then you should leave,” I say as coldly as possible. He chuckles. It was a darkly sweet sound.

“This is my home.” Freaking fantastic. The prince of darkness lives in the creepy house.

“Then why throw a party? That’s stupid.” Just stay nasty! You don’t need a man in your life.

“I think so too, but my friend loves to invite guest over to my home because well, there’s a lot of space,” he says genuinely.

“So? Tell him no.” He laughs again and I shudder at the sound.

“Why that is quite difficult when people just show up.” Ouch. Gosh he was so gorgeous I could hardly think straight.

“Then um, tell your parents.” He looks at me sideways.

“I live alone.” What?

“Yeah I wish I lived alone too ya know. You’re only like seventeen.”

“Nineteen actually; twenty in three months. And I have maids and the sorts so I don’t really live alone. Sometimes I think I’m older though.” He finally looks away from me and gazes out the window like he’s recalling a memory. Quickly, he looks back and I blush.

Then, he asks, “What’s your name?” way more casually then I ever could.

“Rebecca.” I coughed at my pathetic lie. I couldn’t stand telling someone I didn’t know my name; stranger danger videos have scarred me for life.

“No it isn’t,” he says looking directly into my eyes—pure confidence obviously.

“No, it’s too…ordinary. You wondered through a dark mansion at a party into a library?” Don’t look at him is all I could tell myself.

But as soon as I met his green eyes, I blurted out “Estelle.” I gasp at myself for breaking my strange rule.

“It’s French right? For star?” I nod my head like a puppet.

“Very beautiful. That name fit you better I think.”

I snort at him when he says this. “What, you got the hots for me or something?” I joke.

“I don’t know, but I know that you clearly can’t stop staring at me.”

I fall silent as death. I’m that obvious? Maybe he was just assuming because every other girl seems to think so too.

I casually brushed invisible crumbs off my lap and stand to walk over to the book shelf. I slide my fingers across the spines of the books and pull out a copy of some Edgar Allan Poe poems—sick genius that one.

          “Not so rude anymore I see.” He gazes right at me from the couch. “You confuse me,” he says blatantly.

          “Good,” I mutter. I knew I should just leave…but that string seemed to keep me trapped in the room. “All girls are confusing—get used to it.”

          I hear him sigh and then get up; hopefully he was leaving. I return to gaze down at “Annabel Lee” and silently mouthed the words…And then that feeling came back.

          “‘For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams/ of the beautiful Annabel Lee,” he whispers right by my ear so closely I can smell the mint of his breath on my neck. It sends wild chills down my spine and sends my head for a spin.

          He reaches across my shoulder and snatches the book out of my hand, snapping me back to reality.

          “Hey I was—” I freeze mid sentence when I turn around to yell at him. He has to be at least six feet tall with a few extra inches. He towered over me with his face only inches from mine.

          My heart seemed to beat right through my chest and all I could do was stare up at him completely frozen in place by the smirk on his face. This close, he smelled like winter. I just gaze up at him as he slips his hand around my back and pulls me closer. Pull away Estelle, I scream to myself. All I could do was put my hand on his arms weakly trying to push them away. His muscles tensed under my grasp. I look up at him again pathetically.

          “Not so strong anymore,” he whispers so softly I can barely hear him. But when I do, I can begin to feel the fire start to burn within me and my stomach knots as he gently releases me and walks away.