I was lying on my bed, phone in hand, the soft hum of my charger the only sound in my room. Outside, the rain had finally dulled to a light drizzle. Everything felt… normal. Too normal. The kind of quiet that makes you notice every creak of the house. I thought about Max, about our tattoo plan, about how my mom probably wouldn't freak out if she knew we were thinking of getting inked. My wings of freedom, etched across my back someday—yeah, that would be epic.
A faint crack cut through the quiet. Like the sound of a chair snapping, only sharper, hollow. I froze, blinking at the ceiling.
"Probably just the neighbor's old tree," I muttered, trying to convince myself.
Then it came again. Crack. Louder. My stomach twisted. Not thunder. Not anything I'd heard before.
I slid off my bed, sneakers whispering against the floor. I couldn't sit still. Something was… wrong.
Outside my window, the street was empty, dark. Most neighbors' lights were out, everyone sleeping. My own house creaked as I opened the door and stepped onto the porch. The drizzle tickled my face. The air smelled of wet soil and something metallic, faint but sharp. Another crack echoed above.
"Okay… okay… not a plane, not a plane, not a plane," I muttered, pacing. "Unless the plane is… imaginary?"
I wasn't joking. At least, my mouth was.
A couple of neighbors started emerging—old Mr. dursley, peeking cautiously from his porch, flashlight in hand, and Mrs.norris dragging a blanket around her shoulders, wide-eyed. From a distance, faint muffled shouting and a dog barking.
The cracking continued, now faster, sharper. Crack… crack… crack.
Then a low rumble joined it. Not thunder. Not machinery. It vibrated through my chest, through the soles of my feet. I grabbed my phone instinctively, tried Max's number, but nothing but dial tones.
"Of course," I whispered. "No signal. Perfect."
The neighbors around me were starting to panic. Mrs. Patel's voice trembled: "What is it? Is it an earthquake?"
"No!" I shouted before I could stop myself, because why not, it seemed right in the moment. "It's the sky breaking! Totally normal. Happens every Tuesday!"
A few old men from nearby porches were holding onto railings. A streetlight flickered, throwing long, distorted shadows across wet pavements. Trees shivered like they were alive.
Then the force hit.
It wasn't a gust of wind. It wasn't gravity—or at least, not the gravity I knew. My chest felt heavy, my limbs sluggish, like I was swimming through syrup, but it was coming from everywhere at once. The air itself pressed down, and I felt my knees lock.
"Uh… okay. This is… weirdly worse than my math exams," I said, teeth gritted. "Max, call me! No, don't call, just… be here in my head!"
I tried to move, but my legs wouldn't respond. My arms were glued to my sides. Neighbors were frozen too, some mid-step, some staring, some screaming—but their voices sounded muffled, distorted, swallowed by the pressure.
Crack… crack… crack…
The sound became a relentless rhythm, shaking the ground beneath me, vibrating my teeth, rattling the faintly loose window panes. I could see reflections of lights on wet asphalt shifting like mercury, and a few stars flickering through gaps in the clouds.
It was terrifying, and yet… beautiful.
Then, a faint glow broke through the clouds. I squinted and gasped. The moon—no, the moon. It hung impossibly large, impossibly close. Its color was a surreal, deep sapphire, glowing faintly with a halo that bathed the street in cold light. I could see the craters, sharp and shimmering, as if someone had etched them in crystal. Stars crowded the sky, more than I'd ever imagined, twinkling like diamonds in a velvet sea, so close that I felt I could pluck them.
"Okay, I'm officially not sleeping anymore," I muttered, voice cracking. "Blue moon. Big. Very threatening. Stellar crowd… awesome. Someone call NASA. Or Max."
The cracking sound intensified. The force pressed harder. I could feel my body succumbing slowly. I tried to scream, tried to run, tried anything, but I could barely lift a finger. My vision tunneled. The neighbors, the street, the dripping trees—all faded into grey haze around the blue light above.
Crack…crack…crack…
The world slowed. Even my breath felt like molasses. I noticed Mrs. norris's face, frozen, eyes wide, blanket slipping. Old Mr. dursley had a hand on his chest, mid-shout. The dog… silent, stiff. Everyone stopped moving.
The force built, relentless, omnipresent. My chest burned. My muscles trembled under the invisible weight. My thoughts fragmented. "Well… this is a great time to reconsider all life decisions," I muttered between shallow gasps.
Then, something else. I realized I wasn't just heavy; I was being lifted and pressed simultaneously, caught in some kind of invisible web, energy radiating from every direction. My knees bent, but I stayed in mid-step, suspended.
I felt myself slip, slowly—like sinking into water that didn't exist. The cracking grew impossibly loud, a world-ending roar that made my ears ring and my stomach twist. Light streaked in my vision, the halo around the moon expanding like it wanted to swallow the night.
I reached for my phone one last time—Max. Please, Max!—but my fingers barely moved. My eyelids grew heavy. The moon's blue light reflected in my vision, and in that second, I thought: I have to get my wings tattooed. I tried to laugh. Failed.
And then everything slowed, stretched, stretched again. The sound, the pressure, the awe, the terror—all melting together. My body couldn't take it anymore.
The force diminishes and my head began to tilt backward,
The last thing I saw before darkness claimed me completely was the moon. The immortal, impossibly blue moon. Craters sharp as blades. Stars so many that they blurred into a river of light. A sight I knew I'd never forget.
And then—black.