It was late into the night, when sound no longer traveled far.
The moon was full and bright.
The mansion stood far out in the countryside, surrounded by open land and silence. Moonlight slipped through tall windows, drawing thin lines across the walls and floor.
Old paintings watched quietly. Dark wooden furniture rested where it had been for years, its edges worn smooth by time. Each step across the floor answered with a soft **
hrrrnnng** sound, nails shifting beneath the wood. The house felt abandoned—yet there was no dust. The rooms were clean, as if someone still cared for them.
Still, no presence could be felt. No life. Only quiet.
In one of the rooms, a man lay on the bed. He did not sleep. He stared upward, breathing slowly. The room held no candles or lamps. Moonlight entered through the open balcony door, resting on his face as the night wind moved the curtains in slow, quiet waves.
At that moment, the door was open.
The man moved only his head and spoke softly,
"You're here… Look at the moon. Isn't it beautiful tonight?"
A calm smile rested on his face.
Footsteps came closer.
"Yes," she replied, "tonight the moon is more beautiful than ever."
She sat beside the bed, took his hand, and asked gently,
"Is everything okay?"
After a pause, she spoke again, her voice low.
"If you have regrets… if you want to go back… you still have time."
Her head lowered. Tears filled her eyes.
The man kept looking upward, smiling.
"Hey," he said quietly, "look at me. Don't be sad. I'm happy. You're still beside me. You care for me. I have no regrets."
His eyes drifted toward the moon.
"I've been quadriplegia for over ten years. Trapped in this body. I couldn't move—only my head, only my voice. Every time I woke up, it felt like I had already died."
(What is Quadriplegia? Loss of movement and feeling in both arms and both legs.)
He looked back at her.
"Don't cry. You promised me. You'll end it for me, won't you?"
A tear fell and nod.
"I going to keep my promise," she said, smiling through tears.
"Thank you," the man whispered.
He rested then—without worry, without regret, without fear. A peaceful smile remained on his face.
Memories passed quietly through him:
the moment he fell and felt his spine break,
the lights of his magic performance,
his younger self running freely,
and finally, the first time he saw his mother and father after he was born.
The moonlight stayed with him until the end.