She thought she was alone. The voice mirrored against the walls, then disappeared in the night. She has never felt so afraid, so lost, so alone. Un-willingly, she kept walking, but now into the unknown, for she was too afraid to remember where she was. She began to recall this voice; a deep-hypnotizing voice that, for some reason, she felt she knew. And then it hit her...

November 14, 1998, the day of Jasmine’s birthday.  “Jasmine, honey, come here! It’s time to cut the cake,” Jasmine’s mom yelled. “Coming Mom,” Jasmine replied with joy. This was Jasmine’s favorite moment, cutting the cake. Not because she loved the swirls the icing colored over her cake, but because she got one wish. She waited anxiously for the birthday songs to end, and for the candles...

...“The candles,” she gasped.

Twelve candles illuminated the darkness of the room, freely swaying. The room was now silent and all twelve candles remained stationary. Jasmine inhaled, then exhaled onto the twelve magical-pillars. In a heartbeat, darkness devoured the room.

Her steps froze and her mind yelled at her, loud enough for anyone around to hear. She knew this voice; she remembered hearing it before, but never had she been able to hear it run wild. Her hands reached for her ears, feeling nothing but bare skin. She knew this voice.

The night grew strong, and along with it, the moon grew stronger. It’s shine pierced through the windows, awakening the shadows of anything that stood in its path. The moon was full, showing his full-face. Jasmine smiled. She now knew what her mom meant when she said a smile mirrored another. Strangely, Jasmine felt comfort from the moon. It made her feel brave, alive and wanted. That night, Jasmine talked to the moon. She told him things that she would never let the world know, and the moon quietly listened…

In waves, the man’s voice came back. “Mmmmmm,” the voice came into her head, once again in a deep-hypnotizing tone. This time, however, she wasn’t afraid. The voice played in her mind clearing all her confusion, and then she remembered. She looked towards the sky, the light of the moon blinding her, and there he was. The same face she saw on her last birthday. The humming ended creating, then breaking silence. In words the moon spoke, “I am the man on the moon.”

…”Would you like to know my wish?” Jasmine whispered to the moon, “a friend.”