I guess this is the part where I introduce myself, huh?
Well, my full name is Iván Alejandro Vasilios, a 14 years old Hispanic kid.
My hobbies? Playing video games, mostly. Oh, and soccer. That's my favorite sport.
"Iván, hurry up your talking forever!"
And that would be my 10-year-old sister, Sofía. She's a bit cranky in the mornings… and, well, with the whole moving got her in a bitter mood.
Sure, I was a bit upset as well—but knowing the sacrifices my mom made for me, I'm not about to complain.
Afterall she put her life in delay.
But now?
She got her dream job.
A solid offer to teach finance and Spanish at Beacon Hills High School.
It's also kind of a way to start fresh… after Dad went missing.
He was a DEA officer, investigating drug activity in Tijuana 5 years ago when the federal government marked him as missing.
"Iván!" his sister called out.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming! No need to yell," he replied, grabbing the last box.
He paused at the doorway, taking one last look around his room—each corner holding a memory.
"Time for a new chapter," he whispered, stepping out ready to leave everything behind.
The ride was long—of course it was, this was L.A. traffic after all. But eventually, they made it to Beacon Hills country.
And there it was…
Trees.
Lots of them.
Mom never mentioned that Beacon Hills was surrounded by a massive forest—or woods, take your pick. Honestly, it looked more like a national park to me.
Staring out the window from the passenger seat, he watched the trees blur past. At first, everything seemed normal—until something strange caught his eye.
There was movement in the woods.
Just for a split second, he thought he saw a pair of glowing red eyes staring back at him.
He blinked hard, took off his glasses, and rubbed his eyes…
But whatever it was—it was gone.
Shit, I'm going crazy.
"Everything okay?" His mom asked.
"Yeah… thought I saw something in the woods."
"Maybe it was just a bear," she said, her eyes returning to the road ahead.
"Yeah, maybe," he said, though it didn't really seem like a bear.
Not long after, they arrived in town, driving past dozens of homes and stores along the way.
When they pulled up to their driveway, he poked his head out the window and saw a "Sold" sign planted in front.
Beyond the sign stood their new home, a beautiful two-story house with a neat yard and a wide driveway.
"Wow," Iván whistled.
"Mom! I want to call dibs on my room!" Sofia shouted excitedly.
"What? No way," Iván said, raising an eyebrow. "I'm older—I got first pick!"
Sofia puffed out her cheeks. "Not fair!"
"Play nice, you two," she said with a small smile.
Glancing down at her watch, she added, "The movers should be here any minute. Go ahead and pick your rooms—but no fighting. Or I'll choose for you."
"Yes, Mom," they both replied in unison.
Walking into his new home, the first thing Iván noticed was the sliding glass door at the back, offering a clear view of the tree line just beyond the brown fence.
Whoosh! A small figure zipped past him, dashing up the stairs.
Halfway up, his little sister stopped and spun around with a triumphant grin.
"I call dibs, loser!"
"Oh no, you don't!" Iván shouted, taking off after her.
After a bit of back-and-forth with my sister, she ended up getting the room she wanted.
As for me? I got the one with a full view of the woods behind the house.
Not long after, the moving truck pulled in, unloading all the boxes into the garage.
Of course, I made sure each one ended up in its proper pile—they were all labeled, after all.
What can I say? I like being organized.
After a few hours, the movers finally drove off—and guess what? Now came the fun part: filling up the house, starting with the beds, of course.
"Mom, want me to start with your bed?" he asked, walking up to her.
She was standing still, quietly looking at an old picture of Dad.
"Mom?"
"Oh—what?" she said, quickly wiping a tear from her eye, trying to act tough like always.
He let out a soft sigh.
"Mom, it's okay to cry. You don't have to act tough all the time."
She took a shaky breath. "It's just… I miss him. Your father…"
"I know." Iván wrapped his arms around her, trying to hold back his own tears.
They stood there in silence for a few minutes, holding on to each other—sharing the weight of their grief without saying another word.
"Mom! I'm hungry!" Sofia's voice rang out from her room.
"Right… let's get pizza," she said with a bittersweet smile.
From upstairs, they heard the thudding of feet. Sofia came bounding down the stairs. "Did someone say pizza?!"
"Yes, pizza," their mom said. "While we wait for it to arrive, how about we start moving things into our rooms?"
"Yay! Pizza's my favorite!" Sofia cheered, already halfway to her boxes.
Iván walked toward his room with a slice of pizza on a paper plate, savoring each bite.
Stepping inside, he took a long look at the room that would be his home for the next four years—or maybe longer, if college wasn't in the cards.
His gaze drifted to the window, where the full moon hung high overhead.
There was something about it… something that pulled at him.
Drawn in, he stepped closer, staring out at its glowing, ethereal light.
Even as a kid, he'd always loved looking at the moon.
It felt like bathing in sunlight—only softer.
He placed his right hand against the window and closed his eyes, a familiar rush washing over him—the same feeling he always got under the moonlight.
He opened his eyes and stared at the moon, lost in thought, until a voice broke the silence.
"What are you doing?" Sofia asked, stepping into his room and glancing out the window beside him.
"Just looking at the moon," he said, turning to her. "Beautiful, isn't it?" The moonlight cast a soft glow across her face as she nodded.
"Niños, it's time to go to bed!"
Iván yawned and began getting ready, but as he pulled back the covers, a strange tug stirred in his chest.
It was brief—just a flicker—but strong enough to make him pause.
"Hmm… that was weird," he muttered, brushing it off with a shrug.
Moments later, he slid under the covers and drifted off to sleep.
Unknown to Iván, something deep within him had already begun to change.