Lunar Academy: Charity's Story

~ Chapter One ~

Hi. My name's Charity Klav. I'm Mark Klav's older sister. Oh yeah. There's one more member to our threesome of Klavs. That's my father, Landon Klav. Yeah. He's a total dunce. Don't mind him. He can be almost invisible to all people alike. It's kind of like how people forget that Canada is a part of North America the continent and not the United States the country. Therefore, Canada is always invisible. So, the story goes.

Ah, our living conditions. Right. I do suppose I ought to tell what they are. Ever heard of a utopia or some made up world way far off into the future? Well, that's what our world is like. Vankria, where we currently live, is a mass of land right at the equator. It's pretty much in the center of the globe. It's an independent, peaceful land with just a little over four hundred people residing within its territories. This land is the aftermath of the Apocalyptic War, where people fought and murdered their own kind.

The land looks as if it stretches on for miles. However, it isn't merely a sight of boring tumbleweed. Instead, this is a land of Eden with the mixture of high-tech gismos. Gone are the average Kia, Ford, Lexis, Mercedes, Subaru, etc. Gone are the black topped roadways. They all have been replaced by more advanced technology. Average sidewalks and bicycle routes have been replaced by metallic runways of sorts, the ones a person would normally use for hoverboards.

Savar, where my silly father has decided to move the three of us, is a tiny island far, far off into the east. Its summers are filled with a kind of heat that one could literally feel pressing into them and its winters are filled with a kind of cold such as that if one wasn't extremely careful, one would end up as a literal ice statue. The island isn't densely populated and those who live there are an awkward mix of poor, average and rich. It sounds like the world from the past, but believe me when I say it's far from that.

Yeah. Sounds like quite the vacation to me. Please note my sarcasm. It is very real right now. My father, a psychology professor, has discovered a centuries-old building and has decided it would be a good idea to make a school out of it. He wants to put grades Preschool all the way towards the college years. He has been planning renovations to the building ever since he laid eyes on it.

The people who will attend such a school. Right. My younger brother and myself as well as people who can't pay for their education. How does he get all this money? From donations and healthy programs. What are those? Ah, this is where I come to a halt on trying to explain it because even I have no idea. Sometimes my father is a mystery.

As of right now, it's in the middle of the day and amid the sweltering summer heat, I'm over here sitting at my desk staring away from my laptop, which is set up in front of me, opened up to a blank Microsoft Word document. It has been up for a while. I've just been clicking or tapping away, trying to keep the screen lit up for some reason. I like the screen lit up. It's satisfying and comforting to me.

What seems like hours ago, but probably was only few minutes ago, I did have an idea for a song. Suspecting my young brother is out on the rooftop above my head, I decide to sigh and roll my eyes, mumbling, "Jeez, bro! I can't…" My voice gets louder. "CONCENTRATE WHEN YOU'RE UP THERE THINKING SO HARD!"

Now, if I'm being honest, I don't know if I'm really complaining about something or if I'm just teasing my beloved younger brother. I feel like it's an odd mixture of both. Either way, I think I hear him jumping to his feet. I must have startled him.

I'm annoyed for some reason. I swear I can feel my brother sitting just above me, thinking hard about something. Who knows? I scoot back my black, leather desk chair and place it under the tiny door that had been placed in this old house while remodeling it years ago. I reach towards the white, rope-like object hanging down from a hole that had been drilled into the door. It's kind of like I'm opening an attic, but not exactly.

Pulling the door down and away from the low bedroom ceiling, I reach for the small, wooden ladder attached to the door, grab it and unfold it, pulling it down closer to my body. Why do I have to use a chair in order to access the roof and small crawl space area just above my bedroom? Well, besides the fact that I'm only four feet and eleven inches tall, the rest of the ladder has long since rotted away. My father has told me countless times not to go to the roof the way I currently have in mind. I never listen and the adventure of I would discover and maybe even falling and getting hurt thrills me.

I then proceed to make sure that my chair is steady underneath me and that the ladder is where I can step onto what's left of the lowest rung. With a steady hand, because I have done the action many times before, I reach up and grab the second of the two rungs just above my head and pull myself closer towards the small space.

The ladder complains beneath what small weight I have and I know full well that what I'm doing can get me hurt. Honestly, I don't care. The entire ladder I've just finished climbing comes crashing down onto my bedroom floor with quite a racket as I quickly pull myself up through the doorway and into the attic or small crawl space, grateful for my many workouts in which I have built so much physical strength from.

I crawl around on my hands and knees, away from the opening in the floor before standing up and walking across. The old, wood floor complains beneath my footsteps. The air around me is musty and hot. Light pours in from a weakly boarded up square in the wall in front of me.

When I reach the somewhat boarded up window, I carefully bend forward and pok my head full of waist length, thick blonde hair through an opening that is just big enough for me to fit through. I continue to climb the rest of the way out onto the edge of the roof. I stand there for a moment and sway to and fro, looking down directly below me, struggling to keep my balance.

As soon as I regain my balance, I turn my head to the left and spot my younger brother a few feet in front of me, just as I had suspected from the start. "Aha! I knew I'd find you here," I call out to him as I approach, a wide grin appearing on my lips. Now it's time for payback! This moron has totally ruined the moment with his no-good aura!

He immediately raises his hand and waves me away in annoyed dismissal. "Go away, sis." I don't know why, but he's like this at times. Maybe it's just a guy thing. When he does this, I don't listen very well and I tend to frustrate him.

Per the usual, I ignore him and continue to approach, making a faux sad face. "Awww…you look so sad." I stop beside him and plop myself down. With my actions, I'm telling him I'm not going away as he requests. I can feel the black shingles burn into my bare legs.

He turns to me, blue eyes turning dark with anger as he stares straight into my very own blue eyes that reflect defiance. "Jeez, sis, don't you ever listen," he roars. I know I'm making him mad, but I continue.

Next thing I do is I open my mouth and then close it, tilting my head to the right, lifting my chin towards the sky. "Hmmm…" There is a pause as I pretend to think. I grin. "Nope." Most of the time, this doesn't work to get him to loosen up to me. It's very rare that this works.

He stands up and turns his back to me, about to walk away. "Okay, well then, I can clearly see that you're mocking me." I can sense his anger rising and I know he's trying to get away.

His words sink deep into my heart and my grin fades as I stand up and dive for him, wrapping my arms around him in a hug. I bury my face in the back of his plain, white t-shirt. "Wait. Please, don't be mad at me. I didn't mean it." Why am I apologizing? No, wait. Why am I even behaving this way to begin with? This is weird.

He sighs. "You just HAD to come up here the most dangerous way, didn't you?" He is yet another family member who has warned me against such reckless behavior. It was him who had just so happened to have needed some help with something one night and he had knocked on the bedroom door. When there was no answer, he became concerned and entered my bedroom, knowing full well that he might be making a big mistake and that he just might get smacked. That was only one of the times he has caught me doing weird, crazy, random stuff that could possibly get me hurt.

I stop hugging him, as if I've just learned what he was talking about. My arms fall to my sides. "Oh." It's all I can say. I mean, I do realize things and yet I don't. Maybe I just simply don't care. I don't know.

He turns around and eyes me suspiciously. "You broke something, didn't you?" It's clear he's heard the racket from below and has figured out that it was me just breaking things. This wouldn't be the first time and it surely wouldn't be the last.

I feel myself heat up from embarrassment, also knowing he's right. "HEY!" Jeez, he's totally killing me right there on the spot! Waves upon waves of heated embarrassment continue to rise all over my body and I'm just about to raise a hand up against him.

He grins mischievously in my direction, enjoying his little teasing game. "Well, you DID break something, right?" He chuckles.

A careless kind of smile spreads along my lips as I close my eyes and shrug my shoulders at him, deciding to suddenly play it cool and not give him the satisfaction. "It just fell apart." I open my eyes to look at him, curious as to how he would respond to my response to his question.

He replies with sarcasm. "Nice one, Charity." I can tell he's struggling to hold back uncontrollable fits of laughter, as he digs deep into my flesh. He knows what he's doing and he's making it obvious he's enjoying it.

My careless smile immediately turns into a pout and I start to shove at him, half in annoyance and half in affection. "Oh, shut up!" I struggle to hold onto my pout. My entire being rebels against me and I have this fear that it's obvious. What if he can tell? Would he tease me even more?

He raises his eyebrows at me, a mischievous little light dancing in his eyes. "Are you going to make me?" He about doubles over into an uncontrollable fit of laughter at the mere thought of me clumsily trying to make him stop teasing me. I can read those thoughts like a book.

Getting frustrated, embarrassed and annoyed, I tackle him flat onto his back on the roof. "Stop mocking me!" I lay down directly on top of him, putting all of my weight onto him. I lift myself onto my elbows and press them hard into him.

He winces and struggles to lighten the load of agonizing physical pain I'm putting into him. "Ow! Charity, that hurts!"

I stare down at him with an evil grin and I press my elbows into him all the harder. "Good, I'm glad!" For some reason, I sometimes enjoy causing my younger brother physical pain. After all, to me, it feels as if he totally deserves it. Is that evil of me? I think it is. Maybe I'm just no-good and evil.

His breath hitches in his throat and he coughs. "No, really, you need to stop."

I suddenly stare down at him all wide-eyed for a moment as my brain struggles to gather information from the situation. "Hm?" The pieces of the puzzle are difficult to piece together and my mind suddenly goes completely blank. It's as if I'm unable to process anything.

He gasps. "Y-You're…hurting…m-me!"

I gasp and immediately remove myself, sitting down on the roof beside him in a state of astonishment. "Why didn't you tell me anything?!" I look at him and then I look away and then I look at him again, questioning what's just happened. I don't understand anything.

He sits up, coughing for a moment. "Um, I did, sis." He glances at me out of the corners of his eyes.

I duck my head, squeeze my eyes shut and wave my hands nervously. "Oh no, I'm so sorry, bro!" I should really go to a doctor about this! I shudder, thinking about myself ever having a violent side. I shouldn't be this way.

For a moment, he carefully watches my reaction to what I have just done to him. He gives a nervous little laugh. "Jeez, where do you get all that strength?"

I send a death glare his way, half wishing to strangle him. "You moron, how on earth can you be so calm?! Do you have a death wish?!" Dude! Don't you get it?! I tried to hurt you just now! I wonder how he's not terrified of me by now.

He shrugs his shoulders. "I don't know. I mean, whatever suits me, I guess." Things are headed south fairly quickly and I feel myself on the brink of a full blown panic attack. I have no idea what I'm even doing here anymore. Isn't there another place I ought to be?

My hands begin to shake uncontrollably and my heart begins to pound painfully inside of ribcage. "Seriously?! You've got to be kidding me!" Oh no! I think I'm losing myself!

He scoots closer to me and reaches out for my hands, gently cupping his much larger hands around my tiny ones. "I'm fine. You didn't break me or anything." He gives me a worry look, feeling the bones beneath his fingers. "You haven't been eating, have you?"

The moment the words leave his lips is the moment my eyes widen and I part my lips in protest. I struggle to pull my hands away from his. "Yeah, but that doesn't mean anything and it's none of your business whether or not I've been eating!" This is what I've come up with to tell him.

"Why are you so shaken up about it?" I have no idea what he's referring to. Is he referring to my not eating or my almost killing him?

"You really are an idiot! I could have killed you just now!" I make the assumption that he's referring to my almost killing him. I think my emotions get way too out of hand at times. I'm like a fragile child and I hate it!

He releases my hands and wraps his arms around me, pulling me close to him. "Yeah, but you didn't."

I start to cry hard, getting his shirt all snotty. "None of that is speaking for the next time!" I cough harshly and black lines intrude on the edges of my vision. I'm seeing sparkles get brighter by the second. Every ounce of my strength is leaving my body and I go limp in his arms.