The Moonlight Oath
Kim Tran | Sunshine Harvester Primary School |
5/6 English | Term 2 2025
“In another life, my little viper.” His hoarse voice cut through the thundering peace.’
Silence had a loud voice like no other, you just needed a soul to understand it.
It was what I always told myself. What my father told me. No matter what—stay in control. And that was what I had done all my life: keep everything under my command and keep it methodical. At least, before the note appeared on my father’s dead body. Before our house was gunned down with men wearing clothes too dark to see in the cold shadows of our household. My childhood house. His mutilated body that had been shot one too many times to count, a fresh scarlet pouring onto the trimmed grass in our backyard. My legs could no longer bear the weight of the pain and agony they buckled beneath me. I couldn’t feel the sharp blades of grass burning my skin.
All I could think was, why?
My knees begged to be dug further into the ground, begged to be buried along with my soul–where no one would find my bitter, tainted heart. My back bowed, watching the person who raised me my whole life when my own mother couldn’t. My eyes bore into his closed ones. Come on, open your eyes father. Let me see those amber eyes that had always shone with a gleam of happiness. For me. The eyes that beamed proudly when he saw me finally stepping up to support him in his crime syndicate. He’d always given me a choice.
“I want to join you father,” my voice had been steady with the confidence that could only be inherited from my own dad. His back was to me, broad shoulders effortlessly covering my view. I was greeted with silence, per usual now that I was older and the pressure on his shoulders was now weighing him down. “Do you now, my little viper?” I didn’t respond. I knew his tricks and games.
Rule number one: You want to increase in rank and skill? Work for it.
Rule number two: Never, and I mean never question their position of authority. I suppose you know how it goes in a mafia crime organisation.
Rule number three: Do whatever you want, because if you’re working for him, then you should know that you must be cautious and learn the mastermind schemes.
Rule number four: Need any extra information? Find the hidden geniuses here. That’s all you need to know.
“Very well then, Vesper.” He still didn’t turn around to acknowledge me. “If you can beat my best man in a one on one, you will be the new leader.” And so I won the battle. Not through strength. Not through agility. Not through physique. Not through defense or offense. No. I swiped him clean of his abilities via the mind. The thoughts. The knowledge. Because I was a gifted child, my father had said. The power of the intellect is greater than that of the body.
As I cradled my father’s hand in mine, I could still remember the hands that made breakfast for me instead of the chef. The hands that always tucked me in bed before dozing off beside me himself on a nearby chair. His hands that braided my hair, weaving the strands as smoothly as he could with a gun.
But now? Now these hands are empty. Cold. Soulless.
Brushing the jet-black hair off of his forehead, I pondered, aimlessly staring up into the silvery moon above. All I felt was numb. I couldn’t feel the frigid wind billowing my silky hair all over myself. Couldn’t feel the warm, carmine liquid staining my limbs and clothes.
No… nononono… This couldn’t possibly be happening.
I loved my father.
I loved my father.
I loved my father.
Was I going mad?
My pounding head did my current status no better–I was drenched in sweat, blood crusting beneath my fingernails and cuts slithering all over my skin with pale hands trembling. And while nothing out here could bring any relief, the moonlit garden bed did bring something—a beam of light illuminating a brown crimson smeared envelope on his chest.
I turned the note around, trying to find something. Something that would help me rid the person who thought it would be a good idea to kill my father. My only living family member.
And there was something. Inked words and a description of what could only be a place.
Come find me, Vesper.
Seek the highest point of death, at the brightest peak of moonlight. Locate me where the branches die and trunks weep, where the leaves shrink and wither. Find me when the clouds can no longer conceal, when the secrets are hidden. Look beneath the empty onyx coat covering the sky, where I shall lie.
