The Killing Moon

Do you know that feeling when you’re just stuck? When you’re not sure if you should go left or right, continue forward or back up, you are lost. That is how I feel right now. I’ve been sitting in the middle of my messy bed for almost three hours, unsure of how to proceed.
Depression is truly daunting.
“Selena, are you out of bed yet?” I heard my mother’s melodic voice sing out from the hallway, she didn’t pause to check in, she just carried on. I was sure that she was putting up laundry or doing something else incredibly domesticated. I looked over at the clock on my nightstand; it read 8:20 AM.
I slung my blanket to the side and forced myself up and out of the bed. My eyes quickly darted over the pamphlet that was placed strategically on my dresser. “Grief counseling,” in a curly q font was screaming at me. I rolled my eyes and moved my body toward the bathroom; it’s almost as messy as my room. My mother would be yelling at me soon enough if I didn’t clean it. After a lengthy shower with unnecessary rinsing and repeating, I finally decided my fingers were wrinkly enough for me to be finished.
Once I’d dressed myself in casual and comfy attire (i.e. a pair of sweats and an oversized t-shirt), I made my way out of my room and towards the kitchen. My stomach was grumbling, I couldn’t remember the last time I ate.
“About time, you know we have to leave soon.” My mother said as she walked into the kitchen, once again she didn’t pause. She just began loading the dishwasher.
“Mom…” My voice was shaky; we’d barely spoken in the past two weeks.
“Yes?” She didn’t look up.
“She isn’t going to come back even if we do go put flowers on her grave every day.” I said solemnly.
She finally stopped. She huffed and slammed the dishwasher door closed and glared at me.
“You think that I don’t know that? I’m sorry I still want to be close to my daughter. You should be ashamed of yourself.” She was clearly fighting back the urge to cry, I felt like a bitch.
“I just mean…”
“You’re selfish Selena. I’m trying to help you. You don’t think I’m hurting? My daughter is dead and my living daughter is ungrateful.” She shook her head and grabbed her keys off the counter.
“Stay here, I don’t want you go with me today.”
And with that she was gone.
I turned my face slowly to look at the refrigerator, there was a picture of my sister and I that had been there for years.
Our faces almost identical, except for the scar she had on her chin from playing soccer.
Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail and her skin was radiant.
I looked sickly beside her, my hair was messy and my skin had blemishes.
We must have been 14 or 15.
I blinked the budding tears from my eyes and went back up towards my mothers room, maybe I could get some sleep with the help of her sleeping pills.
I slowly crept into her room, even though she was gone – I still felt like I could get caught. Her room was immaculate, cleaning was how she coped. I spotted the orange prescription bottle on her bedside table and quickly picked it up. I opened it and shook 2 pills out into my palm and then promptly put everything back how I had found it.
I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and once again I was met by my twin sister’s eyes. She was still judging me, even after she’d been killed.
How ironic that the star athlete had died from an accidental drowning.
I felt guilty for having the thought, but that didn’t make it any less ironic. I took the pills with a chug from the water bottle, but instead of going back into my room, I stopped in front of Carmen’s door. Her door was decorated, gaudily, with pink and glitter and multiple pictures of her and her boyfriend, Mike.
Seeing him was going to be so awkward and we only had two more weeks before school started.
I shuddered as I opened her door and walked in, it was just as she’d left it the day she went out to the lake with her group of friends almost a month ago. Her pink fluffy comforter tucked in neatly, her makeup scattered over her vanity table, and her favorite fluffy purple robe waiting for her at the end of the bed.
I picked the robe up and hugged it to my face, it smelled like lavender and honey. It smelled like her. I slipped the robe on and unable to control my body I climbed into her bed.
I felt close to her still, I could still feel her there… a part of me. We had never been apart, even before we were born we lived together in our mother’s womb.

I remember when she died I was at Landon’s house and we were binge-watching the last season of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I felt something change, my lungs were tight and I was gasping. Landon, of course, freaked out. He ran to get his parents, but I stopped him before he even got out of the door.
“It’s Carmen.” I said woefully.
He gave me a quizzical look, obviously unsure as to why I would think that.
“She’s in trouble, I have go to home.”
I’ve never been sporty, but I ran the entire 2 mile distance back to my house. She hadn’t answered my phone calls and I was wishing I had Mike’s number.
Once I got there, my mother was sitting on the couch, clueless and engulfed in the home shopping network.
“Where is Carmen?” I asked my mother frantically.
“What? She’s at the lake with Mike.” She looked at me confused.
“Have you talked to her?” I asked as I looked down at my phone, pressing her name again to call. No answer.
“Not in the last couple hours, but she’s swimming. What is wrong? You’re white as a ghost!” She said as she stood up and walked over to me, placing her hand on my forehead to check if I was feverish.
Like clockwork our phone rang, the name of the hospital flashing on the caller I.D. She gave me one more concerned look and picked up the phone, obviously feeling the worry I’d brought home with me.
“Hello?” She said before pausing to let the caller speak.
“Yes, this is Victoria Lopez…”
Her face instantly dropped and I knew it.
I knew she was gone.
**
When I woke up, it was almost 8 P.M. I wondered why my mother hadn’t woken me. I realized that I was in Carmen’s bed and my eyes were stuck together with tears I’d obviously failed to control.
I climbed out of bed for the second time that day and straightened it back as it had been before placing the robe back in its spot.
“Mom?” I called as I walked out of the room, closing the door behind me.
“Kitchen.” She called back.
I walked into the kitchen, hoping she had forgiven me.
“I’m sorry about earlier…” I couldn’t let her be mad at me. She needed me now.
“Everyone grieves differently my love, I forgive you.” She was stirring a pot of vegetables on the stovetop. The savory smell of onions and bell peppers were making my mouth water, another reminder that I desperately needed to eat. I didn’t say anything else; I just took a seat at the counter and watched as she made dinner, the stool beside me noticeably empty.
“Thank you.”
She brought me a bowl filled to the brim with the hearty stew she’d prepared, she knew I was hungry. I ate it slowly, despite how good it tasted, I felt like I didn’t have any energy to exert.
“We are going to have to get your school supplies next week,” My mother attempted small talk.
I nodded and continued blowing on the spoonful of food in front of me.
“Last year of high school. I can’t believe it…” She said again, I could hear the tears in her voice. She couldn’t believe I was the only one getting a senior year.
“Me either.” I finally said, looking over at her with a meek smile.
“Maybe Landon can go with us?” She offered.
I nodded, giving her hand a squeeze before finishing my dinner.
“I’ll call him. I love you mama.” I said as I stood up and placed a kiss on her forehead. She’d always been so strong, raising us by herself. She was a warrior and I knew it was where my sister got her drive and independence from. I was always a little more reserved, a little quieter, and not nearly as adventurous as the two of them.
I went to my room and sighed as I closed the door, really the mess was getting out of control. I made a plan to clean tomorrow or maybe later tonight. I doubted I’d be sleeping.
I pulled my phone from my pocket and smiled to see that Landon had already messaged me to check on me.
We had been best friends since the beginning of high school. We met in creative writing and our friendship blossomed over a shared love of H.P. Lovecraft and Stephen King.
I slid my finger across the screen and pressed on the call button.
He answered after a couple rings with his normal cheery disposition.
“Just the girl I wanted to speak to.” He said as he answered.
“Oh? Why is that?” I asked as I plopped on my bed, sometimes talking to him was the only thing that made me feel better.
“Well, it just so happens that my mom was feeling extra giving and picked up about 10 classic horror VHS cassettes at a flea market she went to earlier. I was going to see if you wanted to have a marathon?”
Landon was a bit of an outcast when we were younger. A little dorky, a bit pudgy, and a nose too big for his head, but that all changed when we were sophomores. He grew into his nose, dropped the baby weight, but retained the dork factor. However, he’d gotten a lot of attention from the girls at school because of his sudden “growth spurt.” He was handsome, but he was my best friend. I tried to encourage him to date, but he didn’t seem interested. Carmen always said that he was in love with me, but I always thought he was in love with Carmen. I still haven’t found out.
“A man after my own heart, this sounds like exactly what I need. I slept all day too, so I’ll probably be up all night.” I said as I looked around my room once again, I didn’t want him to come and see it like that – but I didn’t want to leave my mother alone either.
“My place or yours?” He asked, I could hear him searching for something, probably a VCR.
“If I say mine, will you help me clean?” I could always try, right?
“Cleaning? Seriously? Ugh,” He groaned.
“I don’t want to leave my mom alone, today was rough…” I admitted.
“Fine. Let me get my hazmat suit and I’ll be on my way.”
“Jerk. See you soon.” I said with a laugh before hanging up.
“Maybe I should get a head start…” I said as I looked down at the dirty piles of clothes, I wasn’t really keen on the idea of him helping me pick up my worn underwear.
“Good idea.” My mom said as she peaked into my room, giving me a look of disgust.
“Fine.” I said and hopped off my bed, a little more pep in my step as I began tidying up.

**

Notes

Okay, so I originally wrote this story not as a fan fic, but I'm quite enjoying it so I figured I could use Harry as the new boy. I've got a few chapters written so far, but I just want to see if I can get some reactions before I continue. I'll post chapter two now and then if I get positive feedback I'll continue.

I'm at a stand still with my other stories, but I read "Teen Spirit" By Francesca Lia Block the other day and I felt massive inspiration so this is the result.

Anyway, feedback... please?

Thanks,
Tessa.