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My Name Is Moonstone, And This Is My Story

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My name is Moonstone, and this is my story.

“Spirit, wait up!” I called, racing outside to greet my best friend. She wore purple everyday. Her shirt was purple with yellow flowers and she was wearing black pants, and of course, the blue scarf around her sightless eyes.
“Hi.” She said back. I kicked some dust, bored. “Did you clean your necklace like I told you too?” She said. I sighed.
“Yes, I did. The black and red almost glows, it’s so clean.” Spirit smiled, and held out hers, it was a swirl of blues and greens, shining brightly.
“So, Spirit, what are we planning on doing today?” I asked. She didn’t answer. “Spirittttttt?” I repeated. She shook her head. “Great, now I’m worried. Spirit, what’s wrong?” I said, my tone as soft as possible, but to my disappointment, there was a hint of annoyance. Well, it’s not my fault everyday there 's something wrong. Ugh.
There was a long silence, and then; “Someone knows.” Her voice was as soft and quiet as falling leaves. I stared at her. Know about what? Who? That she ran over a ant while riding her bike? Ughhhhhhhh. “The Necklace. They know about it’s power. I can feel it, Moonstone. And it’s someone who will do anything to take it.” She keep talking. “I can tell what he looks like somehow. He has black and red hair, and a long hoodie with a eclipse on it. He wears long pants and is a thief who’s never failed. Moonstone, we’re in trouble!” She cried. I looked down at my white shoes stained with the red dust.
“Does he know about

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