“If you aren’t married by 21, will you marry me?”

“Of course.” Luna smiled with that beautiful smile that she always used back then. 

Now it’s gone.

Forever.

 I went to visit her for the first time in 7 years. I walked into reception where the lady at the desk looked up at me.

“Do you have an appointment?” She asked.

“I’ve come here to see Luna Skaymore.” I said.

She stood up and gestured me to follow. I obediently did so, quiet on my steps to her cell. I wondered what my life would be like after I talked to her. She didn’t have a proper life. Not after what had happened.

We passed all the other doors leading to her’s.

45, 46, 47, 48…

49.

That was where the lady stopped. She hesitated before opening the rusty, green door. There was girl in the corner, dressed in graying white.

Luna.

Her blonde hair was greasy and knotted. She was giggling.

Timidly, I walked up to her. There was blood dripping on the floor. A lot. She was giggling like a menacing toddler, high pitched and happy, but chilling. I crouched down beside her, there was a hole in the wall she was sitting by and a piece of sharp plaque in her hand. She was cutting herself, the scars from previous cuts like tiger stripes all over her.

“Luna! You can’t do that!” The lady came to grab the plaque. Luna’s giggle had now turned into a full on deathly cackle. She slashed the receptionist with her made do knife. I gasped as the lady fell to the ground.

Dead.

“Help!” I cried.

The psycho staggered up to me. She looked dreadful, like a zombie that had just come back from the dead. Sunken eyes, dripping blood, the guttural groan. It was all there!

“Do you know why I cut myself?” she rasped. “It’s because I love it! The pain! The suffering! It’s like a drug to me! It’s what keeps me going.” 

I was still hollering at the top of my voice for security. But she was still moving.

Forward.

Forward.

“Do you remember when we were 14?” Luna giggled. “You wanted to marry me, do you still love me? I guess not. I have the name Luna for a reason. Just add the three letters ‘Tic’ on the end. Lunatic!” Her laugh had gone harsh and throaty now. “My Mummy and Daddy must have known that I would jump off the roof of our house and land on my head!”

My voice began to tremble as I called for the guards now. I heard footsteps and shouting. They were coming to help!

“No!” Luna screeched “they’re coming to put me in the cream room. There will be no more pain! No suffering!”

A troop of security guards grabbed hold of Luna’s arms and dragged her out of the cell. She was screaming at the top of her voice, cursing at me and wishing me to rot in hell.

“The cream room?” I said.

A guard came up to me. “It’s a room with cushion walls and floors.” He shivered “she hates the fact of having no pain, she screams when we threaten her about the room, she is finally going now.”

Later that week, it was said on the news that she had escaped and fled to her home town. My home town. After I heard that news, panic struck me like a scolding whip. The night after that, I would hear scratching on the ceiling and cupboards would open at night. The only way to figure out what was happening was to put a camera up behind some old books on a shelf near the kitchen. I was determined to find out what was happening.

One night (1:00 to be exact) it started. The scratching and the opening of cupboards and the opening of the fridge. This time, though, there was giggling and a slashing of a knife. I knew I couldn’t wait till morning to see what was happening. This was getting really serious.

I headed to my bedroom door and went out. I padded down the corridor and stopped outside the kitchen. The giggling was louder now and more harsh and demented. I hesitated before opening the door a slither and peering inside.

She was there.

Slashing away with my knife.

In her stomach.

Slash slash slash.

Repeating.

“What the hell are you doing?!” I cried, running in and grabbing the knife from her clutches.

She screamed and lunged forward. I dodged and grabbed my phone. I called the police and an ambulance. They were there in a flash and rushed of off to the hospital.

The next day, I rushed into hospital and went to her room. She was lying there covered in bandages and breathing heavily. She had special machines bleeping and buzzing all around her. I went over slowly and held her hand and whispered.

“You wanted to fly, that’s why you jumped, to fly.” I started to laugh “and now look at you…”

I left her room to go and fetch some food. I was absolutely starving because I hadn’t had breakfast in the rush to see her since I was the only one who could bare it. The cafeteria was big and filled with people and food. Lots of yummy food. I dug in to my breakfast but I didn’t get a chance to finish because suddenly there was a loud alarm. 

I knew immediately who it was.

Luna.

She had escaped.

Security were running up stairs.

People were running outside.

So did I.

There was a girl on the roof.

Knotted blond hair.

Luna.

A white hospital dress.

Luna.

She laughed like a maniac and looked down at me.

“You said I wanted to fly,” she cackled “but you got it wrong. I wanted to die!”

And she jumped.

Landed right in front of us.

Blood.

Everywhere.

That was the end of Luna the Lunatic.

She’s gone.

The end