Moons And Suns..

We used to come here all the time. Mum took us on special days out, and we would spend the whole day here. When we would hear the bell call six times we would pack up our belongings, and head straight home, laughing and chatting about what a fun day we had just had. I wish it could be like that now. We haven't come down to the beach as a family since he got ill. I slip of my shoes and socks, and feel the golden sand between my toes. I walk along the beach, to the place where we used to always sit, and I look at the sea. The blue water which seems as it goes on forever, sparkles in the orange sunlight; I can see a boat just above the horizon. I wish that I was that boat, getting out of here, escaping the horrors of which I live.

As I hear the bells call six times, I know I have to get home. I sigh as I slide my feet into my shoes and turn around to head home, dreading what will await me. I walk up the steps from the beach, and straight onto the dust track avoiding the beautiful smooth concrete on which I must not walk. They will all come out soon; they will comb the streets to make sure there are no moons out, and if they find any of us, then we get taken to the sanctuary. No-one knows what happened there, but the one thing that we do know is that it's not nice.

As the tall buildings approach, I feel a shiver go down my spine. I am about to enter their side of the city; the buildings with windows that go up 160 floors, the great shadows of skyscrapers crawling across the ground, and as I walk past they watch me. They keep a close eye on me as I walk past. Their dogs ready to kill the minute we do something wrong. They think that just because I am a moon, that I am a criminal. As I approach the crossing, there is a group of Suns. I look into the distance, and try and walk quickly past.

They can't do anything to me, I tell myself, and there are guards everywhere. As I am walking I stumble, they snigger, and one boy comes over to me. He towers above me on his side of the walkway, leaning closer to me. I just look down at my shoes, I want to walk on, but I know I would get in trouble, "say it!" he snarls, I don't want to, but I'm afraid, I continue to look at the ground. "SAY IT!" he says again, this time spitting with anger. I blink and look up at him, I look deep into his big brown eyes and whisper; "If the sun wasn't there, the moon wouldn't shine…" His stern lips went into a sly smirk, "better" he says. He spits at me, turns around and walks back over to his friends. I can feel the tears behind my eyes, but I won't let them out, I will not give them that satisfaction. I hold my head up and carry on walking, ignoring the names that they call after me.

As I walk up the stone steps towards the little house, I think to myself what it would be like to live in a different world, to have a different life, to be a different person, but my thoughts are soon interrupted as my mother opens our front door and sternly whispers for me to get inside.

As soon as the door is closed, she just looks at me. Her big blue eyes, filled with a whirlpool of emotions. "How is he?" I mutter, she sighs and walks over to the corner of the room where he sleeps. I can never tell what she is thinking anymore. She used to smile at me when I was scared or upset; and I knew that as soon as I saw that set of pearly white teeth, everything would be okay. But I don't have that reassurance any more, it's just me, and I have to keep telling myself that. I go to sit on my bed, and I just look at them.

My mother watches him as he sleeps, not knowing whether he will wake up again. And it breaks her heart to know that there is a cure, a cure which my little brother can't have, just because of the colour of his skin. I hate to think what lies ahead; life without him, how we will cope when he's gone. Let him go, I tell myself. Say good-bye because he might not wake up again.