4 comments/ 23216 views/ 4 favorites Full Moon House By: Declan Cravens This is my entry for the 2009 Halloween contest. Thank you (ahead of time!) for reading and voting. Please comment as I love to hear from you as to what you liked or disliked!! Enjoy! * My name is Amelia Sutton and I want to tell you a story. It is a story about how I came to Full Moon House. It's also about why I can never leave. I spent most of my youth traveling the world with my Dad. My Mother died shortly after I was born and it was just the two of us. It wasn't easy to raise a child and continue a military career but somehow he pulled it off. From the day I was born I was obsessed with the moon. No matter where we lived the moon, and my Dad, were the only constants in my life. I would lie in my bed and stare at the moon as it rose and make my wishes on her, not silly old stars. When I was nearly fifteen, Dad retired from the Marines and settled us in a little town in Louisiana called Gordon. It was full of run-down former plantation houses that New Orleans residents were buying up and restoring to their former glories. Dad was really good with his hands and smart so he started up his own construction business. He did good work for a reasonable price and before long his reputation in Gordon was golden. Sometimes he had more work than he could handle. When we finally bought a house, Dad opened up a wall in my bedroom and put in a huge bay window with a seat so I could watch the moon rise every night. I loved sitting in that seat and writing my stories about the magical effects of the moon. Since Gordon was the first place we'd settled in for more than a few months at a time, I felt free to join the track team, make friends, even think about dating. It was a totally new world for me and I was loving every moment. Dad even let me do some work around the business to earn spending money. It was nearly perfect. My Dad was not the typical military man when it came to raising me. Not everything had to be by the book or so regimented that I had no freedom. He trusted me to be able to take care of myself and know right from wrong. I'm not saying I never made mistakes in judgment but when I did he didn't try to make me feel bad about it. We talked things out and he doled out restrictions appropriately. I was very lucky to have him. During track season I ran every night, taking different trails around Gordon, exploring the area and thinking about colleges, boys, whatever crossed my mind. It was my way of relaxing, of taking stock of my world and everyone in it. When track season ended I still ran, but not every night. I took it slower, paying more attention to what was around me than what was in my head. My birthday is in late fall, on Halloween to be exact and that year my birthday fell on a full moon. I was so excited. It seemed that everything was in alignment. I was turning sixteen, the moon was going to be full and bright, and I had the entire night to do whatever I wanted. I went for my run early that evening so I could come back and get ready to go to a party with my friends. I had the most amazing costume, a little risqué, but not enough to set off Dad's warning bells. I also had a date, a boy I'd had a crush on since we'd first moved to Gordon. I just knew that it was going to be the perfect night. My best friend, Sadie, came over and helped me curl my long auburn hair into seductive curls and then wove tons of little flowers into it so it looked like a garden nymph's hair. The costume was green and wispy light, a little low cut, showed off my long legs and made my hair and pale skin seem to glow. Lots of black mascara made the fake lashes I'd applied look even longer and my eyes look more green than the usual hazel. The party was great. Loud music, dancing, tons of candy and junk foods. The best part was that my crush kissed me, really kissed me and it was amazing. I was on cloud nine. The moon was high in the sky when I started walking home and I felt like magical moon beams were escorting me home. Lost in daydreams of kissing Josh again, I didn't notice that I'd veered off the normal path I would take to get home. By the time I did, I was way off the main roads and surrounded by deepening woods. Perfect place for a wood nymph on Halloween. I didn't panic, I was much too smart for that. I knew most of the town of Gordon and just because the area I was in wasn't familiar didn't mean I was lost. Trying to get my bearings, I noticed what seemed to be the peak of a roof through the trees. A house meant people, a phone, directions back to town. I kept the roof line in sight as I walked through the thick stand of trees and eventually came to a halt in front of a large gate with two half moons making up the handles. The gate made me smile, someone loved the moon as much as I. The gate wasn't locked and opened without a sound. There was a walk made of white quartz that led up to the large house with a wide wraparound porch. The quartz glowed in the moonlight and I felt a little like Dorothy on the yellow brick road, only my Dorothy followed moon beams. The front door of the house had a large round window made up of a kind of glass that made it look like the surface of the moon. It was glowing lightly as well and I couldn't help but fall in love with the place a little more with each passing moment. It was as if someone had gotten into my head and created my dream house, a place I would design and build if I had my way. I knocked on the large door but no one answered. I tried to look through the round window but the glass made it impossible to see inside. I walked down around to the other windows but all of them were made of the same glass. It was quiet, no sounds coming from inside so I turned to leave and saw that the white quartz path continued around the side. I felt a little uneasy about checking out the house while no one was home but curiosity was getting the better of me. The entire place was amazing. Flowers were planted everywhere, night blooming and fragrant. It was a world meant to be enjoyed in the dark. Unlit lanterns were hung everywhere and would make the outside of the house glow pleasingly when the sun went down. A bird sang out overhead and I looked up, noticing for the first time the third floor of the house seemed to have large half moon shaped windows on every wall. You would be able to see the moon from any direction on that level. It was my true fantasy room, I thought. Despite some of the things I'd seen, most of the house seemed to be in need of repair. The paint was peeling from the wooden siding and the porch had sagged some in the front and back. The grass was higher than it should be if someone were there to maintain it. I wondered if it had been abandoned. Standing on the back path I noticed that I could see the lights of town off in the distance. I had gone further out of my way than I had noticed and it startled me some. How had I gotten so far away without noticing? There was no fence there at the back, just a large row of hedges and I pushed my way through them, following the lights of town. It took almost an hour to get home and it was way past my curfew. Dad wasn't happy but I explained that I'd actually gotten turned around coming back from the party and it took me a little bit to get my bearings. He grounded me from going to the fall picnic in town but I didn't mind. Seeing that house had been worth the punishment. Over the next few days I would run the path that led to the house and wait to see if I saw anyone moving around. I never saw a soul, but one day the grass had been cut and the front steps repaired. I didn't dare venture around the back to see if the back steps had been repaired as well. I was disappointed, obviously the house was occupied. My dream of it being for sale and talking Dad into buying it went down the drain. I still went past the house during the winter months but not as often. It made me a little sad to know that I would never get to live there, or even see inside. However, I felt compelled to go past there every now and then, checking on it, dreaming of living there. After graduating high school, I went off to college and found that I was really good at restoration work and design. I worked hard and finished school with dual degrees and several honors. Dad was so proud. He made a place for me at his business and together we turned out some amazing homes. People from as far away as New York City were coming down to see our work, get ideas and check out properties for sale. The business was really booming and during the summer months we had a waiting list of people wanting our services. I had moved out of Dad's house after getting the lecture that a woman of almost twenty-five had no business living with her old Father. He worried that I didn't have much of a social life, didn't date much. I tried to explain that I loved my work and it was enough for now, that I would settle down when I found someone I could love and respect as much as he'd loved my Mother. I didn't feel the need to tell him that after I'd turned sixteen I'd never really had much of a desire to be with a man at all. That I'd never had sex like all the other girls did in high school or college. That in fact, I didn't really think I'd ever marry or have children. It just didn't seem to fit with what I had planned for my life. To appease him I purchased the space above the building our business occupied and used my spare time to make it into a luxurious apartment. I figured, when it was time, I would sell the place and turn a nice profit to use as a down payment for a home. My twenty-fifth birthday was fast approaching when a realtor came into the office with a desperate request. She needed someone to stage and do light repairs on a home she had listed for sell. The owner was in bad health and needed to sell the place as quickly as possible. It was a unique property, she said, lots of potential. Just needed some cosmetic work. Could we fit her in soon? I agreed to go look at the property that afternoon and see what we could work up. She gave me a spec sheet on the place and the address seemed familiar. I couldn't place it and the price seemed on the low side for all the property had to offer. Gourmet kitchen, living room, dining room, bathroom, pantry and laundry room on the first floor, four bedrooms and two baths upstairs, master suite and luxury bath on the third floor. It seemed almost too good to be true for the price. I found myself anxious to see the property. I followed the directions the realtor gave that afternoon and realized where I was headed. The house with all the half moon shaped windows. Excitement rushed through me and I knew this was the moment I'd been waiting for since the first night I'd seen the place. The realtor was waiting for me and I let her do her talking, all the while making plans for what I would do to this house when it belonged to me. The house came fully furnished and was in remarkable shape for its age. It needed some cosmetic work, like she'd said, but nothing that would break the bank. I told her I wanted to see the third floor. It was everything I'd imagined and more. Those sets of half moon shaped windows went from floor to ceiling and were on three of the bedroom walls and the other set was over the huge claw foot tub in the master bath. It was breathtaking. A sense of peace came over me and I turned to the realtor and asked her how soon we could get a contract going. She was more than a little shocked, but also obviously pleased at having a buyer for the house. She tried to tell me about the other owners of the home, but I'd shut her out, daydreaming of everything I would do. I had plans forming and materials lists running through my head. I asked her to please get the process started and that I would provide her with the down payment for the bank and get her to list my current home with her company to sell. Two weeks later I was the new owner of Full Moon House. I began to have the dreams that very first night. I didn't think much of it. Stress, most likely, I remember thinking. After all, we were trying to do the repairs and renovations around the schedules of the other jobs we had going on at work and I was anxious for them to be done. I had dinner on the back area of the wide wraparound porch with all the lanterns lit and the garden glowing in the moonlight just like I'd imagined all those years before. It was later that I began to feel restless. I tried some hot tea to settle my nerves but nothing worked. I ran a bath in the huge claw foot tub and soaked my stress away with vanilla and musk scented bubbles. At some point I guess I dozed off and what I dreamed was both breathtaking and a little scary. A man dressed in jeans and a long black coat over a blue shirt came into the bathroom and I knew him. He was a complete stranger, but I still knew him. Something inside me recognized that I'd been waiting all this time for him. That he had been here in the house waiting for me since that first night. He stared into my eyes and I smiled at him invitingly. I was never much of a flirt but with him it came easily. He smiled back and began to take off his clothes, slowly. I asked him to hurry, my heart racing. He didn't speed up but he smiled again and his face was so beautiful. His hair was the darkest of blacks and his eyes weren't much lighter. Thick lashes ringed them and made him look as if he were wearing eyeliner. I liked his face, his body. He seemed a little pale but I didn't wonder too much on the fact. I noticed as he lowered his body into the water next to mine that he had a very large scar on his back that resembled something very scary. It had long talons and longer, sharper teeth. I tried not to stare at it because it made me feel uncomfortable. Made me want to run from him and hide. I didn't want to be away from him. I wanted to stay right there with him forever. He touched my face with the back of his hand and it was the lightest, the most reverent of touches I'd felt in my life. I could feel how much he cared for me, how much he wanted to be near me. I was amazed that someone so caring, so loving was there for me, wanted me. My eyes closed as he stroked my hair, again the touch so light that I almost didn't feel it. There was a whisper of breath in my ear and I sighed, content and so tired suddenly that my body began to lower in the water. I wasn't afraid. He wouldn't let me go under. I raised my hand to touch him, wanting to see how his skin felt under my palm, but when I tried my hand went right through him, landing on the cold metal on the other side of the tub. His head lowered and he looked at me with such sadness in those black eyes that I felt like crying. He shook his head, smiled a little and faded away. I woke to a tub full of cold water lapping at my chin, so cold that my fingers and toes had a bluish tint. It had seemed so real. This time when I shivered it was from the feeling that I'd just seen a ghost. Later that week, I went to the realtor and asked her to tell me what she'd been trying to tell me before. I learned from her that the house had been sold and bought twenty times in the past fifty years. She claimed that there wasn't anything wrong with the house, just that the owners tended to fall ill or die soon after moving in. Bad luck, she claimed. I left her office feeling uneasy but not really afraid. After all, there was nothing wrong with me. I was young, healthy and strong. I put my fears aside and went back to work. I had the dream again a week later. This time he was stronger, or so it seemed. His touches felt more solid and when I reached out to touch him it took more of a push to get through him to the other side of the tub. I also noticed more of the strange scar that covered his back. The demon, or monster, held the full moon on the talons of one hand high in the air, the other held a knife pointed at the moon threateningly. I didn't like the image and closed my eyes to block out the sight. This time when I woke I was not only cold, but weak. I was barely able to rise out of the tub and shuffle to the bed. I woke late the next morning and it took me longer to get around than it did most days. I chalked it up to stress and the amount of work on my plate at my job and around my new house. The renovations finally got under way because of Michael David, Dad's foreman. He offered to do the work at night, after his other jobs were done and on the weekends for a small fee and free meals. Michael and I had flirted off and on for a couple of years but it never seemed to go anywhere. I knew he was doing it to get closer to me and I didn't mind. I liked him and thought maybe it would turn into more if I got to know him better. That first night I fixed Michael his favorite meal and he spent more time wandering around the kitchen while I cooked than working. I let him get away with it because I liked the idea of having him around, liked talking to him while I worked. Michael was good looking, strong and tall. His hair was light brown and tended to curl over his collar since he never remembered to get it cut. His eyes were a light cornflower blue and he had this cute little dimple in his left cheek when he smiled or laughed. We talked about the renovations and what should be done first and what we might need to check on to see if it needed updating, like electrical outlets and the plumbing. I was shocked to find myself checking out his body when he leaned down to look under the sink or reached up to touch the moldings over the doors. I never acted like that. We ate together outside, with the lanterns lit and the moon shining down on us. I felt lighter, happier than I had in a long time. We laughed a lot and by the time we'd finished cleaning up I admitted to him that it was the first "date" I'd been on since college. He grinned and said that he would try a little harder to make a good impression the next time he stopped by. We made plans for him to start really working on Saturday since I'd need time to buy supplies and such. I walked him to the door and shut it with a smile, anxious for Saturday to come. I had the dream again that night. This time it was different, darker. He came to me the same way but this time he didn't get into the tub with me. This time he stood next to the bath and stared down at me, anger and disappointment shining in his eyes. I didn't know what I'd done to turn him from the loving person he'd been before to this angry man and I lowered my head, beginning to cry. When I looked back up again he was gone. I was alone, crying in my tub, freezing and shaking. And I was awake. The man was not a dream or a figment of my overactive imagination. He was a ghost, and he was living in my house. I didn't say anything to anyone. Who would believe me? Even in superstitious Louisiana, ghosts are not something most people believe in. At least, not these days. Michael showed up bright and early on Saturday and we spent most of it peeling the old, cracking wallpaper from the first bedroom. We joked and talked the day away, eating takeout Chinese from the boxes in my kitchen and throwing balls of old wallpaper at each other. By the time we started to paint, the sun was already low in the sky and the moon could be seen on the eastern horizon. I left Michael to paint while I fixed us some dinner, surprising him by setting the outside table with candles and turning the lanterns down low. We ate and I took the plates into the kitchen while Michael poured us some wine. I came back out and sat down next to him, letting him put his arm around me while we watched the moon rise. That night he came to me again, anger shining brightly in his black eyes and his movements choppy and harsh. I was in my bed this time, reading when his body began to take shape in the room. I should have been scared, instead I felt like the wife who'd been caught cheating with the help. His eyes asked for something he couldn't voice and something I wished I could promise. How can you love a ghost? Someone you can't touch, can't feel, can't kiss or hug? I wanted to have him for my own but it was impossible. Full Moon House Understanding seemed to dawn on his face and he moved, turned towards the door and with his eyes, asked me to follow him. He took me to the library, a place I hadn't spent much time in. It was filled with books on witchcraft, moon magic mostly and he touched one reverently. I took it from the shelf, opened it and saw that it was a book of personal spells written by Brenna Wallace. When I looked up, he was gone. I knew what he wanted of me, but I couldn't help him. I didn't know any magic, wasn't a witch or even special in any way. How could I turn a man from ghost to human again? And did I even want to try only to be disappointed? The next day I slept late and ignored the phone when it rang. I knew Michael had wanted to come over and do more work but I just wasn't ready, too tired to do more than sleep and lay around. I felt drained and I knew I hadn't slept well the night before. The book lay next to me on the couch and I picked it up, as I had a hundred times before that day and stared at the cover. I still hadn't managed to get up the courage to open it and see what I might discover inside. It was almost too overwhelming. As I made dinner that night, I stared out at the rising moon and wondered why he was here in the house, why he hadn't 'moved on' like other people when they die. Had someone killed him? Was he waiting for someone to help him finish something important so he could 'cross over'? I didn't have the answers I needed if I was going to make a decision on whether or not I should help him. What if he was someone bad and I helped him back into this world? I would never be able to forgive myself. I needed more information. The next day I went to the library, the county courthouse and the city building. I gathered as much information as I could on Gordon's history, events, births and deaths as I could find. I also found the original plans for the house at the county courthouse with the names of the original owners. The information I gathered would aid my internet search for the man of my dreams and the history of Full Moon House. I spent the next week doing research on the house and the people who had lived there. The original owners of the home had named it Full Moon House. The couple, David William Wallace and his wife, Brenna Scott Wallace, had designed Full Moon House the way they did because of Brenna's love of the moon. The family was from Ireland, immigrated to America sometime after 1905 and had come into money in their early twenties. No one really knew where the money came from because they were new to Gordon and had not spoken to many people since moving there. Later reports listed Brenna Wallace as a witch and healer with cures for anything and everything. For a price of course. She worked out of the library of her house, using the hundreds of books on spells and potions to help the people of Gordon with their ailments. The town seemed to take her powers in stride and welcomed her and her spells. Apparently the library had remained untouched since her time, all her books were still in residence. Of David Wallace there wasn't much in any records that I could find. He seemed to be a rather quiet man who kept to himself and worked in his gardens on nice days. He was the designer of the gardens and the porches, an addition that was done almost five years after the original house was built. All in all I didn't find much to lead me anywhere closer to finding out who my ghost was. There were lots more places on the internet to check out but I found I was too tired to continue. I don't know if the ghost returned to me that night, I slept so deeply. I woke up feeling better than I had in days. Clearer. I put thoughts of ghosts and magic spells out of my head and went to work with a smile on my face. I didn't see him again for a couple of weeks. Honestly, I thought that maybe I had imagined the whole thing. Got carried away with the new place and all the moving excitement. Or maybe I'd had some kind of bug that had made me hallucinate. Either way it was over and I was glad. Unfortunately, I was also wrong. That night as I drifted off to sleep I felt something move at the foot of my bed. I sat up and there he was, sitting there, watching me with eyes like black obsidian. He didn't seem angry, just sad, defeated even. He didn't move towards me, didn't try to touch me like before. He seemed lighter, more transparent than the last few times and despite the fact that I thought I might be losing my mind, I was worried about him. That was the last time I saw him until after Christmas. As I was taking down the decorations he appeared to me beside the now bare Christmas tree, his mouth moving quickly as if he were trying to tell me something very important. I couldn't hear him or read his lips and he faded away before I could do anything. Michael and I went on several dates before and after Christmas. I was beginning to like him more and more, but still, there was something missing. He'd finished the renovations in November and since then I'd been wary about letting him into the house. I wasn't sure why but I didn't want him in there. Despite how much I liked him, I was also reluctant to take our relationship to a more intimate place. We often kissed, touching each other through our clothes but I never let it go any further than that. I knew that he was getting frustrated by my reluctance to make love with him, that he might think I was a tease but I just couldn't seem to want more. At least, not with Michael. I'd begun to have dreams of my ghost at night. Dreams that made me wake aching and needy, my body physically reaching for him. I never saw him again the way I had before and I wondered if my dreams were just a way of telling me that I should take Michael to my bed and forget someone who could never love me physically. By the summer I was so frustrated and stressed out that I began to lash out at the people around me. I dreamed of the man every night. Dreamed of him touching me in ways that I'd never let another man touch me. Every morning I woke, hot, aching and wanting in a way I'd never wanted another man. Ever. I feared I was falling in love with a man who could never exist. By fall I was certain that I had lost my mind. I often left work early and went to bed in order to have more time with my dream man. My Dad worried that I had some kind of illness and begged me daily to see a doctor. I refused and told him that I was perfectly healthy, just tired and stressed out. I wasn't so sure of that myself but it was the lie I told. October came quickly that year and it was nearing my birthday when he showed himself to me again, his ghostly image so transparent that I could see the entire bedroom through him. Still, I was so happy to see him that I threw back the covers of my bed and tried to throw my arms around him. I cried out in frustration when I grasped nothing but air and fell back to the bed face first. This time when his mouth moved I could hear his voice in my head. It was smooth and deep like a fine whiskey mixed with cream. I had the power to make him real, he told me. All I had to do was read the spell on Halloween and he could return to this world and take back his life. It was all there in her book. Read the spell and return his life. Make him real so we could be together. I knew what I had to do. That year, Halloween and my birthday fell on a Saturday. I had all day to prepare for the ritual I would perform to return my lover to his body. The spell had to be done on a waning moon. I checked to make sure I had what I needed and waited for the moon to start rising. At dusk I went out onto the back deck and set up my things exactly as it showed in Brenna's book of spells. I lit the candles, poured my salt and waited for exactly ten minutes after the moon appeared in the sky above the northern star and spoke the words that Brenna had written. As I spoke my ghostly lover appeared before me, becoming more solid with each word. By the time I had finished he was whole, smiling and holding out his arms for me. His voice was just as I'd heard it in my head. He held me close and I could hear the beating of his heart. He was truly alive. His eyes were no longer black, but a wonderful and warm shade of chocolate. In a halting and cautious voice he told me his name was Liam Collins and how he'd come to America to find Brenna and bring her home with him. He found her married to the man who'd stolen his money, his life and his love. When David had found him in his house, talking to Brenna and trying to get her to come with him, he had turned him into a Shade. You see, David was a warlock and quite powerful. He'd bewitched Brenna and turned her away from everyone she'd loved. He hadn't completely turned Brenna against him, however. When she discovered what David had done, she'd written a spell for him that would allow him to be returned to his mortal self. The only problem was that she didn't love him enough to be the one to cast the spell. Only true love could do that for him. I was completely enthralled. I believed every word he said. He seemed so true and so honestly happy to be alive. We sat on the deck and talked for hours. I felt as if I'd known him my entire life. He told me about the other owners of the house and how they'd tried to help him, only the attempts took too much energy from them and they fell ill. He felt badly about their illnesses and that was why he had stopped coming to me for so long. He'd feared I too would fall ill and leave him alone again. At some point I found the courage to ask about the terrifying scar on his back and how much it looked like a demon holding the moon hostage. He explained to me that the scar was how David had turned him to a Shade, by branding the symbol of the Demon of the Shades on his back with a hot knife. It had been excruciatingly painful and had nearly killed him before it was done. I felt my heart breaking for his losses and yet, so happy that I had been the one to return him to his life. Still, I did not have the courage to ask him where he would go now that he was alive again. I found it hurt me to think that he might leave me to return to Ireland or move on to another life without me. He must have read my thoughts or maybe it was clearly written on my face, because he assured me that he was staying there with me for the rest of his mortal life. Sometime before dawn he took my hand and led me inside and up the stairs to my bedroom. He took such care to hold me close, kiss me gently, touching me slowly as if he were memorizing the feel of my flesh against his. When it became more than I could bear I moved him closer to the bed and lay down, pulling him down with me. His body was so warm, his breath hot against my neck. He caressed me with such tenderness, removing my clothing slowly, my pulse racing in my head. When I was fully nude he removed his clothing quickly, lying down by my side and kissing me softly. I wanted him so badly, my body ready for his, still he waited, teasing, touching, kissing me everywhere. By the time he moved over me I was writhing with need of him. I called his name and begged for him to take me. I stiffened at the first touch of his body to mine. I knew I was ready for him but I also knew it would hurt a little. Liam sensed that something was wrong and pulled back, his eyes questioning. I didn't know how to tell him that I was a virgin, didn't know how to broach the subject at all. He smiled down at me and I knew that he understood. I remember him telling me he would do it quick, that the pain would sharp but only for a moment. I even remember that first twinge of pain inside me easing before being overtaken by the searing much more intense pain on my back. I remember the look of triumph mixed with regret on his face as his body moved inside mine over and over. I can sometimes even vaguely remember the sound of his shout as his body poured its seed into mine. After that there is little. I did not return to any kind of consciousness until much, much later. The first time I manifested Liam was older, a child with eyes of melted chocolate bouncing on his knee. Pictures of his perfect family littered my living room. My anger and confusion were alive in the air. I stood in front of him and demanded an explanation, afraid that I already knew all the answers. I will never forget his words that day. "I am most sorry for what I had to do my dear Amelia. You see, it was the only way I could get my mortal life back. To make a virgin fall in love with you is the most powerful magic in all the universe. For a Shade, it means a return to the body you lost, the life you lost. A Shade can never be truly set free. It can only exchange its existence for another. And so it will be for you to now find another to replace yours. I am afraid it will be a lonely existence until then. You can feed off the energy of those around you but in time they will weaken and fall ill or die. I wish you great luck in finding your replacement and I thank you for becoming mine." Liam took his family and left me that day and never returned. I have learned a lot since that day. Once a Shade attaches itself to someone and feeds from their energy it makes them stronger. But a Shade attached to someone is also vulnerable to that person's emotions. If they fall in love with another then the Shade weakens and fades away. That is why Liam faded when Michael came into my life. If I had taken that chance and let Michael into my life I would have been safe from Liam's influence. I was stupid. I chose to believe that love was something that would overwhelm instead of support. You see, I let true love slip away while the moon was shining in my eyes.