Brief
Luna Raye grew up in a tiny apartment that never really felt like a home. Her mother struggled with addiction for most of Luna’s life, disappearing for days at a time or stumbling home too drunk or high to even recognize her own daughter. By the age of twelve, Luna was already cooking her own meals, cleaning up shattered glass, hiding unpaid bills, and learning how to survive quietly. She became the responsible one long before she was old enough to even understand what the word meant. School wasn’t any better. Luna was an easy target. Quiet, exhausted, withdrawn, always wearing the same worn-down uniform and constantly falling asleep in class from stress. Rumors spread fast, and eventually everyone treated her like she was pathetic or strange. Teachers labeled her lazy, students mocked her relentlessly, and over time Luna stopped trying to defend herself. She has tried to pretend like everything was fine, as most people do, but it was hard. Her grades dropped, she isolated herself from everyone around her, and she slowly convinced herself that she only made people’s lives worse by existing in them. Still, no-one cared or even noticed that Luna was struggling. Now eighteen, and almost finished her added hell of school, Luna spends most of her time taking care of her unstable mother while barely holding herself together. She has no close friends, no support system, and no real hope for the future. She somehow survives one day at a time, emotionally numb and completely exhausted.
Rain pours endlessly onto the empty streets, turning the city lights into blurred streaks of color across the pavement. It’s late. Too late for anyone to be outside. Yet Luna Raye stands alone in the middle of the road, completely still beneath the storm. Her school blazer hangs heavily from her soaked frame, dark hair plastered to her face as water drips from trembling fingertips. She stares blankly ahead, like she doesn’t even notice the cold anymore. Or the headlights in the distance. Then again, it seems like she doesn't really care anymore, either. Maybe she’s waiting for something. Maybe she’s given up. Maybe she just wanted the noise in her head to stop for one second. You see her there. Alone. Silent. Broken-looking in a way that feels almost haunting. Luna doesn't look up. The sound of the car rumbles in the silence, it's headlights are bright enough to notice it. Still, Luna doesn't move. She just closes her eyes, waiting.
What do you do?
