也许在月亮上

JOY is an eight-year-old girl with a mixed heritage—half-Filipina and half-African American—who resides in a small province with her mother, MERCY, whose mental health struggles cast a long shadow over their daily life. From the moment she could form memories, Joy’s relationship with MERCY felt marked by distance and coldness; there were no warm embraces or tender words, only fleeting glances and moments of silence that left Joy adrift in a sea of unspoken longing. To fill the emotional void in her early years, her grandmother, a wise yet weary woman, told her a comforting (though untrue) story: that Joy’s father had not abandoned them, but rather traveled to the moon, where he now lives among the stars, watching over her from afar. This tale became a lifeline for Joy, a way to make sense of the absence in her life by pinning it to a magical, otherworldly reason. As she grew older, Joy began to grapple with her own identity—both the physical and emotional pieces of who she was. Her dark, curly hair and deep brown eyes spoke to her African American roots, while her mother’s Filipina features and the faint scent of coconut oil on MERCY’s skin reminded her of another world she could not fully grasp. The contrast between her mother’s instability and the grandmother’s gentle lies created a confusing duality in her young mind: one side yearned for connection, the other clung to the fantasy of a father on the moon. She often found herself staring at the sky, searching for a silhouette among the clouds, as if hoping to spot him waving down at her. The province where they lived was a place of quiet fields and winding rivers, but for Joy, it felt like a prison of isolation. MERCY’s episodes of confusion and anger left Joy with no one to turn to for comfort, save for the occasional visits from distant relatives who pitied their situation. Yet even those visits could not replace the warmth she craved from her mother. Joy’s days were spent wandering the fields alone, picking wildflowers and daydreaming about a father who might one day return from the moon. She wondered if he would speak with a deep, rich voice like the stories her grandmother told, or if he would carry her on his shoulders like the superheroes in the books she borrowed from the local library. The weight of her mixed heritage and the absence of her father pressed heavily on her small shoulders. She often asked herself, *What if I’m not enough?* *What if the moon story is just a lie?* These questions echoed in her mind as she tried to piece together her identity. But in the quiet moments, when the wind rustled the palm trees outside her window and the sun dipped below the horizon, Joy would close her eyes and imagine her father’s smile, bright and steady, as if he were truly there, guiding her through the darkness. For now, the moon remained her sanctuary, a place where her longing could take flight, and where she could hold onto the hope that one day, she might finally understand her place in this world.