Conversations with my younger self

It's dark.
Much darker than the grey shades of twilight in her room and she scrambles up with frightened rapidity, looking around with a tear-stained face. Her eyes are wide like saucers, but she can't see anything; it's just black.

She rubs her arm over her eyes, trying to muffle her fading sobs.

Last she remembered, she was lying on her bed, crying into the belly of her favourite bear, cursing the world and blaming herself. Now she's here, god knows where with no idew how she got here or, more importantly, how she's supposed to get home.

Suddenly, a light turns on, blinding her. It's a spotlight, focussed on her and she's suddenly ten times more frightened than she was a few moments ago, blanketed in the shadows.
She shuffles with her feet, glancing around awkwardly, not knowing what she's supposed to do. She wants to run and keep running until she's far away from the light that's focussing on her, but she's hesitant to shroud herself in darkness again.

She rubs at her nose and her hand comes back with a line of snot, which she smears on her trousers. They're dirty anyway.

She looks around again, staring at the darkness, unsure whether it's concealed or highlighted by the perfect circle of light that surrounds her.
Maybe this is her punishment, the fulfilment of her wish to just get away from it all. To just die.

Is this death, then? Locked inside this light, surrounded by everlasting blackness? It's almost ironic, eternal night for Moon.  

When she's made a full spin around, she's startled by a sudden presence behind her. She doesn't know how, but she knows it's there, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand on edge, her muscles tightening for flight, like she's done so many times before.

Moon twirls around, curling in on herself, staring at the presence like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming truck.

It's a girl, tall, like she is, but with an air that makes her seem lean, rather than awkward. She's blonde, as well, but there's black streaked all through it. She thinks it's pretty cool.
The other girl smiles at her and Moon is almost inclined to look around, as if maybe, the girl means someone else, but it's just them.

The girl is familiar, somehow, even though Moon is entirely sure she's never seen her before. She would remember clothes like that. Ripped up tights, ending in heavy boots and a fluttery black skirt, topped off with a tank top covered in skulls. She looks cool, Moon thinks, wishing she'd have the nerve to dress like that, but she's sure she could never pull it off, not like this girl can. She looks confident, comfortable, even though she looks a little weird.

"Hello, my love," the girl says suddenly and Moon literally jumps in surprise, because she somehow hadn't expected the other girl to talk to her. It makes the other girl smile. It makes her oddly half heart-shaped face light up and it makes her even prettier.  

"Erm- hi," Moon says, staring at the girl, hoping she doesn't look too much a mess. She's pretty sure the girl must think she's stupid-looking and soon enough she'll know she's weird too and won't want to speak to her again and she'll leave Moon in this endless darkness, because who wouldn't?

The girl comes closer, while Moon is digging into her own mind for a clue as to where she's seen this girl before and suddenly there are hands on her face, wiping away the smeared make-up that has gathered on her cheeks.

"Primary school, for you, isn't it?" the other girl asks and Moon relishes in the touch of her hands on her cheeks, looking into the girl's eyes, which are carefully rimmed with black eye shadow and eyeliner, with lashes as luminous as the one's she's seen on the covers of the magazines she likes to read.

"An apple a day, right?" the girl continues, when Moon only nods, "And Henry's dating Eliza and-" the other girl sighs as she holds Moon at an arm's length, examining the stain on her shirt, "And that was Stephan, wasn't it? During break-time, god I could strangle him."

Moon gapes at the girl, dumbstruck. She looks down at her shirt and the back up into the girl's green eyes.

"How-how do you know that?" she manages to ask, forcing the words out of her throat, which is tight from crying, still, but the girl only smiles.
How? How does this girl she's only been eating one apple during lunch every day? Does she know she skips breakfast, dinner when she can? How does she know Henry's dating Eliza again, even though he said she was a slut just a week ago?
How does she know Stephan pushed her own drink in her face during lunch, she'd thought nobody but her classmates had seen that, seeing as they'd been the class picked to play on the field next to the school that day.
How?

The other girl only smiles and then, completely unexpectedly, pulls Moon into a hug. It's soft and understanding, comforting and warm. It shocks Moon beyond belief. She isn't used to this, not by anyone other than her parents – and they don't count. It's in their job-description to love her, they have to.

"You're not fat, sweetheart," the other girl says, rubbing a hand over her back, like she truly understands, "You're completely normal, you'll learn to see that, eventually."
It's easy for her to say, Moon thinks, as she wraps her arms around the other girl's waist, the other girl's got beautiful curves.

"But all of them," she means the girls in her class, the women on the cover of her magazines, "I'm fat compared to them, I want to be skinny like that too, so people will think I'm pretty too."
"But you already are pretty," the other girl corrects her, stroking a hand over Moon's blonde locks, "You just haven't found the right people to see that yet."

"But they hate me! All of them," Moon cries into the other girl's chest, convinced that nobody ever will. The only thing she can do is try to be better, skinnier, less weird.

"Yes, they do," the other girl agrees, almost making Moon pull away from her, until she continues, "But they don't know better. They're blind and deaf and mute, because they never tried looking further, listening better, talking about things."

Moon is confused, so utterly confused.

"Not all people are like that, some people, some really special people, they will not only see that you're beautiful, they'll know it, as surely as they know how to hold a pen or paintbrush."

Moon swallows, a feeling, something that feels like it's white, welling up in her chest, a feeling that makes her hope what the girl is telling her is true.

"You're beautiful and they'll teach you how to see that," the other girl whispers in her ear and Moon feels her smiling against her cheek, "look at them."

Moon's head rises from where it had been cradled against the other girl's chest, to look at the darkness, instinctively.
It's not just darkness anymore. Instead, it's filled with faces, faces almost as familiar as the other girl's, faces that are smiling at her.
Slowly, the faces become clearer, now attached to bodies, with hands that wave at Moon or give her a thumbs up in encouragement.
They look kind, loving and Moon gapes at them.

"They're your friends, Moon," the other girl says, as she slowly pulls away, though she keeps an arm around Moon's shoulder and she points at the people in the darkness, "Or they're going to be."

"Really?" Asks Moon, looking up at the beautiful girl with hope in her eyes and the other girl smiles again.

"Yes, really," she promises, her voice full of something Moon can't place, "It's going to get so much better for you, my darling."
It's… hope? – Nostalgia? – A promise, that resounds in the other girl's words and Moon shakes her head at it. How can she know this? How can she say such things with such sureness?

"You're going to do so much, be so much more than you could ever imagine being."

Two tears, to simultaneous tears slip down two separate cheeks. Moon rubs at the offending droplet, but the other girl lets it slide down her jowl, as if she's proud of it, proud of her feelings.

"Oh if you only knew," the other girl says to Moon, turning to crouch in front of her, warm hands on the smaller girl's shoulders, "If only you knew what stories, what memories you're going to make."

"But what about Stephan?" Moon blurts, before she can stop herself and she slaps a hand over her mouth, but the damage's been done.
It's so like her, to ruin a moment like this with a stupid comment like that. She watches in horror, as the smile on the other girl's face fades, wishing desperately she had just kept her mouth shut.

The other girl surprises her again, though and says; "There will always be people like Stephan."
Moon swallows, because she prefers eternal darkness over a world full of Stephans.

"But," the girl continues, with eyes so green and kind, "You'll learn to see that they don't matter. They're so, so unimportant." The other girl strokes a finger over Moon's cheek again, as if she wishes she could stop the tears from coming out forever, "You'll understand, one day, that they're to be pitied. They'll always just be the kids that threw drinks in other kids' faces and they'll never be more than that."

Moon almost smiles at that notion, imagining Stephan when he's older, still throwing juice in people's faces. She doubts his friends will still think it funny, then.

"Whereas you," there's a finger on her nose, making Moon squint and giggle, "You're going to be just brilliant, you are. Don't let them stop you from being amazing, don't let them stop you from being a little strange."
Moon stares at the other girl, still doubtful. Strange is bad, isn't it?

"Because let me tell you something, Moon," it is as if the other girl senses her distress, "All the best people are."
And Moon smiles, because it's one of her favourite lines from her favourite book. Nobody at school likes it, but this girl does and somehow, that feels just as wonderful as all the other things she's said.
This girl is a little strange, too, but it doesn't seem to matter with her.

Maybe, just maybe, it's okay for Moon as well.

The other girl rises to her feet again, giving Moon a last rub over her head, making her giggle softly and this makes the other girl smile more than anything else.

"Remember that, okay?" the girl asks and somehow Moon knows she has to go soon and she nods, "You're going to be just fine, but you've got to be patient. Can you do that?"

"Yes," Moon whispers and smiles back at the other girl who looks at her with such strange affection and once more, she wonders where she's met the girl before. There's so much familiarity, as if she's known her for years, instead of minutes.

Green eyes look into green eyes, one pair of which widens in sudden realisation.

"I – You," Moon stammers, stumbling away from the girl in sheer surprise. The look of kindness never disappears from the girl's identical green eyes.

She nods slowly and Moon feels more tears well up in her eyes, because this, this is how she knows. How she knows that Moon will be fine, will have friends, will be amazing.

She knows because she is her.

"No, wait!" Moon calls, running forward as the girl starts to fade, gently at first, just around the edges, but it spreads quickly, sucking her away.

The other girl, the other her just smiles, waving in farewell – no, goodbye and Moon waves back.
"Thank you," she whispers, feeling happier than she's done in a long while and the girl winks, just before she fades away, along with the other figures in the darkness behind her, "Thank all of you."

The spotlight turns off and when Moon opens her eyes from the darkness, she's back in her room, hugging Bear to her chest.
This time, though, she smiles, because she knows she'll see them again, one day. Those figures in the dark, she'll learn their faces and they will help her and she knows that, whatever they need, she'll help them too.

And one day when she looks in the mirror, she'll see the other girl again, too.