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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Other >> ID #1400785 |
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December 12, 1864 Half Moon I know it will be soon. I dreamed last night. I was running Running through the fields by the light of the full moon while the people run from me. It was a good feeling. I felt powerful to be feared like that. I cannot wait for the full moon. I will be feared for real instead of dreams. I know it will be soon. Day of December 25, 1864 Full Moon It is tonight. It has been cloudy all day. It will clear up, though. It has to. For me, going another month would be unbearable. I love the scents, I love the hunt. Only a few hours... Christmas. Christmas. It is Christmas. Such a stupid holiday, The foolish people. Celebrating a day when nothing happened. Ever. I will show them how foolish they are. Tonight. Night of December 25, 1864 Full Moon I am waiting... Just a few more minutes... Wait. That feeling is starting. I am transforming. My fingernails become claws. My eyes can see in the dark. My hunger. My instincts. They take over. I will hunt this night. I will. I leap down from the balcony. I run through the streets. The windows all have candles. People laughing. People talking. People having fun. People... celebrating. I cannot bring myself... I... but. I must hunt. I try to attack a house. But I cannot bring myself. Maybe... Maybe Christmas deserves to live. I will go back. I will transform again. I sigh. The moon... goes behind a cloud. I become human. I go in. I join the party. But I close the blinds. I need to make sure... that I don't... terrorize the party. I would not restrain myself next time. It was just luck. Maybe next month...
© Copyright 2008 S. P. Gale (UN: jpopes43 at Writing.Com).
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