Shooting Towards The Moon

When I was young my universe was small, and I thought I knew it all.

As I grew up, I became smaller and smaller; that so called universe was no longer mine and all the things I thought I knew quite well, were actually huge mysteries.

I ended up knowing very little about myself, and even less about what I called reality.

The world can be a fascinating place when you stop looking for meanings.

The night felt dense. A layer of fog hovered over our heads, but now and then I could catch a glimpse of the stars in the sky above.

There was a rustle in the foliage, dead leaves and branches cracked under my brother's boots as he made his way through the woods.

He stopped, wiping out the humidity from his face. For me, his expression seemed to be a mix of boredom and impatience. But no one could ever figure out what Billy was thinking; not me, not my dad, not his friends. He just had this thick shell around his thoughts, and you couldn't pierce it even if you tried.

"Won't you shoot the goddamn thing?" He said. "C'mon Todd, you know that's the right thing to do, don’t you know?"

"But-"

"There’s no 'but', just do the freaking thing, will ya? Finish it." He pushed my shoulder. My skeleton felt like rubber. "C'mon boy... You wanted to bust a cap on its head — whatever it was. I’m talking to ya, boy. You said that, what's the fucking matter now?” He insisted.

"I’m not sure anymore." I muttered. My body trembled as I revised my reasons for being there, at night, crawling through the thickets. "I think we should just... just leave it alone, will ya? We can dump her on Heck's sugarcane field, they’ll never find out anyway-"

"Her?" He gasped. "This is not a her! God, I don't even... It's a goddamn monster, I tell ya." He shook his head.

"I changed my mind."

"What’s wrong with you? You've put me into this, okay? It was your idea kid, and you’re messing up again." Billy was getting nervous; he'd get all shaky and sore before loosing his cool. Under pressure I was just like him, but our triggers were in different places. "Those shitheads will find it. You gotta finish this, jungle boy — your words, not mine!"

"I know what I said, for Christ's sake! But I don’t feel like doing it anymore, alright? Just leave her alone — please dude — just leave it." I turned around to face him.

"Leave it? Leave it, Todd? You're out of your everloving mind! This freak is a square peg in a round hole! What if the feds find out? What if they do, Todd? We’ll become the bad guys, that's it. They’ll take us to Guantanamo and force you to eat your own shit- or something worse." Billy was sweating like a pig as he talked, I could barely see his expressions in the dark, but I could definitely feel the heat emanating from his body every time he walked past me.

"They won’t do that! We can just leave the thing there for god’s sake, and- Billy listen to me!" I shouted, grabbing his arm as he started to walk towards her; his veins throbbed.

"Get off me!" He shoved me away, my hands groping for a place to hold as I fell on the muddy ground. "Are you insane? What the hell ya think ya doing?" Billy stuck his hand under his tattered plaid shirt and drew out an old 9mm. "You keep messing up again dammit!" He muttered, shaking like the leaves as he tried to load the gun. "You promised me Todd, you fucking promised! When we crossed the border into the forest for the first time, you said you'd take care of the thing by yourself." I sat down, my fists clenched. "Look at us now! I gotta finish your own shit!"

I jumped, clutching his arm. He pushed me again, but now I had a tight grasp, so he dragged me through the vines and dead trees. I felt my shirt being ripped apart as wet chunks of moss splattered on my face. "Billy stop! You ain’t killing her!" I yelled. "Please Billy, let’s go home, please, just let-"

"I said get off me, asshole!" He grabbed my arm to pull me away, but I managed to cling on his collar. "Get- off!" I felt a punch straight on the stomach, I doubled over and fell on my back, curling myself in a ball as I breathed for air. "Look what you made me do to you!"

He groaned something about our father, but I wouldn’t listen to him. I was tired of always listening to Billy, tired of always doing whatever Billy wanted. As I struggled with the pain, he turned around and walked away, stopping right in front of the unicorn-like creature that I had been tracking down for weeks; she was unconscious, just lying alongside the dirt road.

Her body was covered in a thin coat of velvety fur, and a pair of wings curled around her chest as if trying to protect itself from harm. She had in her flank a very odd color pattern; it looked like a crescent moon insignia engulfed by chunks of darker fur. Her long mane was half-lit by the headlights of our truck, blurred shadows danced on the cornfields as my brother passed in front of the car.

But he noticed none of that. Blinded by his fear and anger he was also unable to notice as I rose up from that disgraced place and crossed the road.

I never meant it, I swear, but it happened.

I never meant it.

Billy rubbed his neck, he had this nervous habit. I knew he was scared; he was a crude and stubborn guy, but he was scared as hell anyway.

He stared at the creature for what seemed like ages, maybe pondering, maybe deciding where to aim, maybe in a silent fight against his own guts. I never figured out, because right when he was about to fire I jumped on his back, wrapping my arms around his neck. Taken by surprise, he turned on his feet, but his boot got stuck into an exposed root. It all happened very quickly; my brother lost balance and stumbled over the root. I landed on top of him, but by the moment we hit the ground a loud gun shot echoed through the fields.

I looked around in panic, afraid someone else had heard our struggle and followed us. Down the road there was nothing but fog. When I turned back to look at Billy he was pale as a ghost; his eyes focusing on something above our heads, mouth half open. “What’s wron-” Then he dropped the gun he was holding so tightly.

I crawled to the side as he looked down to his chest. A large red blotch covered half of his shirt. In a few seconds, there was blood all around him. I was unresponsive.

On my knees, I stared at the body right in front of me – I don’t know if I said it aloud, or if I merely repeated the thoughts to myself: I didn't meant it – My eyes darted from one place to another, from the truck to the towering crops beside, and the forest edge shrouded in mist. Trying to find something — anything.

Billy stuttered an unintelligible sentence, he coughed two or three times and fell silent. I was alone.

My brother was dead.

There was something in the air that night.

Something ominous, just lurking around the edges of the map. I felt it as I dragged the body of my brother onto the backseat, I felt it as I drove back home.

I felt it as I looked at the empty windows of the farmhouse.

I felt it as I crouched beside his makeshift grave.

It observed me through the crops — you couldn't see it — but you could feel its presence. It was playing with me, smiling down at the scene as I stood petrified in front of that bent wooden cross I had pinned on the ground.

Another body remained on the backseat though. And it was still alive, somehow. It woke up frightened, and I wasn't wise enough to predict its reaction.

The marked one, as I came to call her, burst the door open and trotted away towards the woods. But she didn't knew that buried deep inside the flesh of her hind leg, lied a bullet. Right under the crescent moon.

She collapsed on the grass before reaching the undergrowth.

In a way, I could feel her pain as she contorted on the ground. My presence scared her, and it just increased her agony.

In a single day, life had ripped apart my family, my home, and my peace. I wouldn't let it take away the marked one as well. She was the only thing that was left for me.

As I approached, she tried to kick me, and one of her hooves missed my face by inches.

"Stop! I'm just trying to help you!" I said, dodging from her kicks. She tried to flap her wings in vain; they were far too small for her body and seemed to be plainly useless.

"What did you do to me?" She yelled. "What your folk did to me?"

My emotions overflowed, I let myself crash on the grass, in shock, tugging my head between my bruised armpits.

Under the moonlight, the lost unicorn cried in pain. And I in sorrow.

"Y-you're a monster." She muttered.

Maybe I was.