I swallowed the pills my brother, Colby, pressed into my palm in the mornings.<\/p>\n
\u201cFrom Dr. Harris,\u201d he told me. \u201cJust to help your mind rest.\u201d<\/p>\n
Day by day, I felt heavier, slower, more confused. I forgot appointments. I stared at walls. I lost time. People said it was grief. I believed them.<\/p>\n
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Until that night.<\/p>\n
The Child in the Moonlight<\/h1>\n
I heard it before I saw it\u2014a thin, chattering sound, like teeth hitting together in the cold.<\/p>\n
I looked up, and there, near the balcony doors, huddled in a corner where the moonlight pooled on the floor, was a small figure wrapped in a dirty blanket.<\/p>\n
For a moment, my mind did exactly what it had been trained to do for months: it rejected what it saw.<\/p>\n
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