The world around me is in chaos, I'm sure of it.

Whispers and hushed conversations filled the village ever since she died. No one could sleep at night, not sure that they won't be the next on the list. Fear plagued their minds, slowly but surely killing them from the inside.

Not a single soul will be at peace until the case is solved—until the murderer is found.

The knights have been trying their best to defend the villagers from the mysterious attacks, but they weren't very successful; for every night another victim is found. Clues of the murderer's identity are still nonexistent, and this fact drives the villagers insane. Nothing is known about the murderer, and not even a single trace of step is left behind after every murder.

Nothing.

The officials are pinning blames on the regular thugs of the village; those who still act barbaric and medieval. But we all know that the officials are wrong, because these thugs protect the village from potential danger.

That is why tonight, I will tell them all that I know. I witnessed one of the murders, and opted to stay quiet in fear of being suspected as the murderer and killed as the next victim. But I cannot let someone innocent be blamed for something that is not his fault. Not when I have information that might save the village.

Amidst all of this chaos, I know only one thing; that I didn't kill her.

Artistic Scribbles

Kuroshitsuji (c) Yana Toboso

Chapter 1

Luna

"Some things are better off unnoticed. Therefore, don't try to see those that aren't meant to be seen."

Those are the words that I have always remembered my whole life. My late caretaker said that I have been saying those lines since I was able to speak. But the question here is;

Who told me those words?

It couldn't be my mother or father, because for as long as I know; I'm an orphan. The owner said that my late caretaker found me in front of the doorstep on a rainy night in October. I was wrapped tightly in a white blanket and placed in a basket with nothing but a piece of necklace that held a ring in it. Inside the ring was carved in an elegant cursive, my name; Luna.

I have no last name for no one has bothered to adopt me. I don't mind though, it's much better to stay in the orphanage and help the little ones than to pretend living happily with a bunch of old folks. I don't adapt well, and I much prefer staying with those that I've known well.

A few years back, my late caretaker, Mrs. Foster, sold the orphanage to a new owner. It seems that she had anticipated her death and therefore sold the orphanage off to someone that could maintain it after she was gone.

Yes, I remember the day that Mrs. Foster finally passed. I was nine at that time, and the sky was gray—as if the whole world was mourning for the unfortunate loss. They took her to the mosque and prayed for her there whilst I stayed back in the orphanage awaiting their return. They said that I wasn't old enough to go with them.

"But I want to pray for Mrs. Foster too!" Yes, I remember, I cried loudly back then. It wasn't fair that I had to stay and wait just because I'm not old enough. I knew her better than any of them, so why didn't I get the chance to see her off?

"I'm sure Mrs. Foster wouldn't want you to cry like that, child." I turned my head to the source of the voice; a tall woman. She wore her long blonde hair in a tight bun and a simple long sleeved dress in the color of white.

"How would you know anything about her?" I asked rudely. Who was she to say what Mrs. Foster wanted? I bet that she didn't even know her.

"I would know," the woman smiled. "Because I own this orphanage."

That was the first time I met Ms. Buttercup. It didn't start off well because she was eccentric and whimsical in her own way while I was a 'no-nonsense' person. Until now I'm still not able to get through her thick skull, but at least I do know that she's trying very hard for the orphanage.

In the end, I didn't attend Mrs. Foster's funeral. But I prayed for her well being in the Barzah every night before I sleep, and I was happy, knowing that I helped in bathing her and enshrouding her in a kafan cloth.

My life changed drastically ever since the death of my caretaker. The villagers didn't seem to trust Ms. Buttercup with handling the orphanage because of her eccentric behavior and thus, we stopped receiving donations to cover for our monthly expenses.

At the age of eleven, I had to work part time at the local tailor shop to earn money for the orphanage. In truth, I could have left the orphanage to live my own life, but I didn't. Why? I don't know. There are many things in this world that I don't know, and I prefer to keep things that way.

Because all is not what it seems like.

Chapter 1/END

Author's Note

I just totally realized something; I AM the Retardedly Awesome. I don't give a fuck about what others think, because I know that I know myself best (whoa, did that make sense?). Unless is CC, then I totally shouldn't give a fuck.

Yep, I decided to re write the whole thing. I haven't found my muse yet, but I suppose it's something related to my awesomeness. Oh and thanks to LittleLovesaLot for the suggestion :)

Anyway, the rewritten version has a lot of difference with the old version. I'm featuring the mature version of Luna that actually has a brain and is able to think with common sense. The setting is in the Middle Ages, but during the Islamic Golden Era (specifically the Abbasiyah time). I haven't seen any stories written during that era, and I want to share the knowledge to those who reads this. But no, I'm not going to dump a whole lot of crap about my religion in this story. It's just the setting, and maybe some traditions but nothing too bad.

And if you're wondering; NO. I'm not from the Middle East. I'm from Indonesia, therefore I am sorry if there are a lot of mistakes regarding the history of Islam since I only learned the basics of it during religion time.

Crap, the author's note is longer than the story. Okay, buh bye!