I missed the city lights. Out here in daddy’s farm, the only thing that shone at night was the boring old moon. Life had been hard ever since mum and dad divorced. Mum wanted to move back toGermany, and if I went with her it would’ve disturbed my studies. So I stayed with daddy. He wanted us to move out to grandpa’s farm, which had been on lease ever since grandpa died. I still went to school, but not the same one I’d been to. Every morning I pedalled on my bike for three kilometres to get to the local school, where I slept for most of the day because what they taught was boring me out of my wits. But mostly because there were no one to talk to.
The kids at my school thought that I was a stuck up snob who looks down at them. I tried to tall them that this wasn’t true, but they never listened. They all teased me about being daddy’s precious girl going to a country school. They even teased me about the way I talked, only because I was brought up with proper grammar and no slang. So I slept for most of the day, dreaming of my friends back home in the city, of my once-upon-a-time.
I couldn’t talk to daddy about the issues at school because I didn’t want to burden him further. Ever since mum left, he was devastated. He retreated further into himself, and the last blow for him was when a wedding invitation came in the mail, announcing mum’s marriage. Daddy spent the whole day in his office, and when I came in the next morning, I found the burnt remnants of the invitation in the fireplace.
There was truly no one for me to tell my troubles to, so I sit every evening in front of my bedroom window, talking to the moon. And sometimes, if I was lucky, I would be drowsy enough so that the moon looked like a million blinding city lights, and I would be home again.