A Moonlight Tale



Thursday 4th June 1987

I haven’t written for a couple of days. Mainly because I was worried that one of D or one of his ‘boys’ would want to know what I was writing. Naturally, I was wrong, I have as much privacy as I want. I’m writing this lying on my bed, where no-one comes uninvited.

Just to prove my point, M is going on a food run tonight, (they take turns) and was hovering behind the curtain, trying to get my attention without interrupting my privacy.

D and the boys seem to keep an almost nocturnal schedule. They wake up an hour or so before sunset, go out and come back before sunrise. They seem, P especially, kind of hyper when they get back, and it takes an hour or two for them to calm down before they go to sleep. P’s way of calming down involves walking around the lip of the fountain, humming. Occasionally either Dw or M trips him up and it gets rowdy, then D has to go and break it up.

I myself have not left the cave since I got here, always someone stays with me so I don’t get lonely. Neither have I gone into the back caves, where, I presume, the boys rooms are. They respect my privacy, and I respect theirs.

D and I spend a lot of time talking. I think tonight might be the night…

He’s become my friend, my guardian angel and my mentor, he helps talk my problems out… but I don’t think I love him. But it’s ok, he’s mine, and I’m his, that’s enough for me.

Don’t, Mom. You’ll meet Dad, and then you’ll fall in love. Don’t. Not with ‘D’. Something’s not right. Luna screamed mentally, knowing it would do no good. She turned the page.

Sunday 7th June 1987

I regret letting D make love to me (make love, what a joke—it’s all about power). At the very least, I’ve told him in no uncertain terms that I’m no longer his girl. He just laughed and told me that I’d change my mind. I’ve changed, alright, but not my mind. I know what I drank at dinner last night. I’m one of them now. Lost, forever. D told me what I have to do. I don’t think I can. But I also know my will won’t hold out forever. D’s strong, and I’m weak. And it was intoxicating. Such a rush, the power. To know I could feel that good just by…

I can’t.

I won’t.

Dear god, help me.

Luna frowned at the page. What? What was going on? Had the mysterious ‘D’ given her mother drugs? Slipped something in her drink?

If he had, it would certainly explain her parents’ paranoia over knowing exactly what they were drinking.

She flipped to the next page, hoping it would hold some answers, but a good many pages were blank until she came across one written in smudged ink, as if tears had fallen on the page.

Thursday 25th June 1987

Oh dear god. I’m pregnant.

Luna blinked a couple of times. Her Mom had been pregnant before her? No… she counted backwards. Her birthday was March. She supposed it was entirely possible that her mother had miscarried or… something, especially if she was using drugs, and then got pregnant by her father a month or so later, wasn’t it?

She didn’t know a single thing about pregnancy or babies. It didn’t have to mean anything. She read on, hoping against hope.

Friday 26th June 1987

I went into town yesterday while the boys slept and bought a test. I did it in a restroom in a café. It came up positive. I did another. It came up positive too.

I can’t have a child here. I can’t have a child that will become one of them. None of them can find out. I have to leave. I shall go tomorrow when the sun is up. I have to go, I can hear them stirring, it’s almost sunset.

Sunday 28th June 1987

Bastards! Bastards! BASTARDS! They knew. They knew I would go. Bastards. To do what they did! I’ve got to calm down, my anger won’t help.

I’ve calmed down. I’ve smoked one of D’s cigarettes and calmed down. I don’t care if it hurts the baby. In fact, good! I hope it does. I don’t want D’s baby. That evil manipulative…

Maybe I should start again. They’ve got me. I can’t go. They knew I was thinking of going, that maybe my small strength would fight this… addiction, for lack of a better word. And they brought me a child.

D and his boys must have scoured Santa Carla, maybe even the state, for someone so closely resembling Nick. They took him, and changed him, made him like me, and told me to look after him. We call him Laddie, I feel safe to write that in here as it’s not his real name.

And now I can never leave. Stuck here in a hellish version of Never-Never Land. I can’t go, I can’t fight it. I’m doomed. Lost.

The only good thing is that D doesn’t know the real reason behind my desire to leave. A couple of months though, and he will. Anyone with eyes will know…

Wednesday 1st July 1987

I think I might be losing my mind. I’ve not been out of the cave for a month. D won’t let me or Laddie out until we want to ‘join in the festivities’ as he put it. Bastard, how can he be so callous?

Laddie is beginning to cave. I can feel it, he looks so longingly when they leave. At this point he’d do anything to get out of this fucking cave. I feel exactly the same. Almost. I don’t dare go out, in case I do something. I’m scared.

Dw tells Laddie tales about what they do out there, he makes it funny. I can see him bonding with the boy, trying to take his love away from me. I know the boys think that I’m a failure. D thought he knew exactly what he was doing, taking a half starved, unloved girl off the streets and offering her the world. They also know I’m holding Laddie back, if it wasn’t for me he’d be one of them. I’m trying to save him. I’ve got to.

I had another dream last night. My dreams about Nick have been few and far between since I’ve been here, much nastier horrors to face than guilt, but this one stayed with me all day.

In the dream, Nick was lying at the bottom of the stairs, except we were in the cave, if that makes sense. As always, I ran to him, knowing he would inflict a verbal wound, but unable to stop myself.

He looked up at me and said, “Gonna stay quiet again, Star? Not going to be able to save an innocent child again?”

I replied, “I didn’t mean for this to happen, I’m so sorry.”

“Shut up! I’m dead. So what? Laddie’s not dead yet. Aren’t you even going to try to save him?” His face merged into Laddie’s. “Help me, Star.”

I woke up to find Laddie curled up on my bed, I cuddled him into my arms and started speaking, I don’t know what I was saying, but he asked, “Who’s Nick?”

I have to get us out of here.

Second owner of the site, after Sammy handed it over. Lost Boys fan since the early 90s, owned this site since 2001. A bit nerdy. Fan of Marko. Wish I owned Star's skirt.