Day 2,022

The moon has always been outside my window at night.

When I was a child I didn't think too much of it, barely understanding the moon cycle and understanding the moon itself even less. I thought it was fairly normal for the moon to always be there, never going dark and following me as I moved between the rooms in the house.

I was fifteen when I realised that the thing following me was not the moon.

We moved from a little down in the middle of podunk, north of nowhere, and to a fairly sizeable city. Culture shock aside, I settled down as well as any teenager could when their life's just been uprooted and the only familiarity is the moon outside every window at night.

I don't know what possessed me to go outside but if I hadn't, I'd probably be dead by now.

The moon was there - three feet above me and gradually descending to meet me in the back garden. It must have been about half a foot above me when I took a step forward and turned around just to see what the dark side of the moon actually looked like.

As far as I knew the moon didn't have bones, much less a barbed spine poking out of flesh-like stone.

It turned around and opened its eyes, still moving down and still moving towards me. I ran to the front of the house as quick as I could and climbed in through the open bathroom window, slamming it shut behind me as I ducked down in the hope that the moon wouldn't find me.

I haven't seen it since, haven't been out at night either.

I'm sure it's found someone else by now.

Some other child who won't know better.