We turned around to find the monsters coming at us. The more of them we slew, the more they poured into the room. We were outnumbered, and running out of space. I knew that if we didn’t act quickly, we’d be dead; so I released Arabella and asked her to teleport everyone in the cellar away from there. Reluctantly, she agreed. I could hear Jason call out to me as they disappeared, but there was no time for us to say our goodbyes. Some of us got injured as the battle waged on, and we were all losing energy. All hope seemed to slowly abandon us when Arabella reappeared. We counted our blessings and teleported out of there with her right away and, as we arrived at where the others were, Jason ran up to me yelling “Moon, I thought I’d never see you again!” I smiled and hugged him tightly. “Oh, no, you’re not getting rid of me that easily. Didn’t I promise never to leave you?” We were close to the twins’ home, so we went back there to prepare for the hordes that pursued us....
“What? Demons again?” I asked, getting to my feet. “Moon, you’re in no condition to fight any demons!” Leslie said. “It’s just a group of people looking for shelter,” Nolan said as he walked in. “Oh, alright,” I said, getting back in bed. Leslie let out a sigh and sat next to me. “Here have your dinner, and call me if you need anything.” After she left the room, I sighed and looked at the food laying in front of me. I wasn't hungry. My mind wandered off to what happened during my last battle; I wished I could have gone with my parents. But they were right: I am needed here, and I can't abandon my brother and my friends when they need me the most. I managed to force some food down my throat before Leslie came back to complain: “Why haven't you eaten your food, Moon?” “I ate as much as I could, but I’m not that hungry.” “Fine,” Leslie replied. She took the tray away and came back with a bowl of ice cream and a piece of cake covered in choco...
I spent most of my childhood dreaming and daydreaming about different worlds, imagining so many stories unfolding in my mind every single day. Mom always told me I had a vivid imagination and encouraged me to write whatever I dreamt about. She said she was just like me when she was young, and that writing all those stories down from a young age was a major factor that contributed to her becoming an author. I took her advice and started writing when I was just six, and over the years, I had so many stories of my own that I was proud of. However, my preferring fiction over everything else pushed me into a corner in social situations; a lot of my classmates thought me a freak and often bullied me. I struggled to make friends for many years, and once I reached my teens, I finally gave up on it. My stories were enough, I didn’t need any friends. My characters were my second family. After I finished school and started working, however, my writing slowly faded into the background of my life. ...
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