Third Moon From the Moon

"Don't jump, I like being with you". They always argued, that was why she was leaning forward, out over nothing, knowing that if she did this the voice would go away. The shout of a mother sounded, shocked and desperate, as she began to fall, a smile forming on her face, no longer would she be a burden, but soon she would be no more, they would both be no more, she and the voice. The voice screamed, at last it understood what fear was, and suddenly she felt joy as she hung in the air, watching it fall and hit the ground. Then she flew, up towards the sky, the air flowing through her long brown hair, making her feel wonderful, up past the sky towards the moon, but she was not going to the moon, but the moon's third moon. It was a wonderful place, no voices or shouting mothers, but why did it feel wrong and empty, she had rid herself of the voice, she would no longer hear her father cry, nobody would be hurt because of her anymore. She was alone at last, but it felt wrong, as if she did not actually enjoy being alone. Somehow, the third moon from the moon, which had seemed beautiful and peaceful, now seemed barren and dead, as if a graveyard was more living and lively, but she had seen its beauty as she travelled to the moon, so why was it so dead and still. She stood there for a while, , thinking clearly for the first time in ten years, no more voices and starvation hindering her thoughts, the feeling made a tear appear in her eye and she wipes it away, feeling the wetness of the tear. She says to herself that there is no need to cry. "That is true, but you still cry, that is strange and bizarre, no, it is better described as confounding," he said, his eternal smile fixed upon her, his skeletal hand stroking her cheek, but she smiles at him and takes his hand. She asks who he is, why he is there, and he laughs, the deep timeless laughter making her giggle, giggling for the first time in ten years, but what happened ten years ago and took away her joy in life, blocking her thoughts, creating the voice, the voice she finally had rid herself of, making her feel empty and for some strange reason wanting it back. "I am everywhere, but right now I am here, because you want me here. Who I am I do not know," he said, always smiling his eternal smile, making her feel like she should scared, but she was not, she knew him even if she did not know his name, she knew she should and everybody should know his name, but she could not remember now that she truly needed to. He sat down at the edge of a crater and took a pipe out of his robe, putting it in his mouth, something about this felt odd for her, and lit it with an intricately engraved lighter, the flame becoming the only colour on the third moon from the moon, even her skin was colourless, not even black or white were present, only a million hues of colourlessness, and when the lighter was extinguished there was only the red flow from the pipe breaking the colourlessness. "Since you know who I am, I will ask you. Who are you, why are you here, how did you get here?" he asked and blew a white smoke ring into colourlessness, but the colour soon faded and the third moon from the moon gained a littler colour, somehow distorting minutely, but she ignored it as her imagination playing with her. She winced as the sound of a door slamming shut, who was she, should not she, who was she, know who she was, but she had known it so clearly, she had cried into her pillow, who was the crying girl. She told him about her flight and the and the death of the voice, what was the voice that was dead, it had been someone important or maybe not, she told him of her hope for peace on the third moon from the moon, and all the time he blew smoke rings into the air and the third moon from the moon slowly gained colour as it changed shape, she noticed he never inhaled, but somehow she knew he never would inhale, not because he could not inhale, but because he had no need to do so. Her stared at her with bottomless eyes and his eternal smile somehow seeming annoyed, a man cried at the feet of a woman, who was she, maybe she had to find out who she was to know who he was. "You have answered two of my three questions, but you seem unable to answer the third. The third question on the third moon from the moon., but why, you seem to remember everything and still seem to remember nothing," he said and waved the pipe, forming beautiful patterns in the air, in the patterns she saw faces, faces she felt she should know, but did not, just as she knew his name and could not remember it, just as the voice was someone important, and now she knew the voice was the key to who she was, and who she was, was the key to who he was. Why were tears flowing down her cheeks, she felt confused, where were the answers, the answers to the questions she did not know. "Give up on remembering me, for you cannot embrace me. All I can tell you is that I am the final voice, but now you must return to earth. Rest assured, you will return to the third moon from the moon in due time," he said with a voice filled with the age of time, and then he inhaled everything and nothing.