Staring Stars

May 30, 2017
By 8203764020 BRONZE, Nazareth, Pennsylvania
8203764020 BRONZE, Nazareth, Pennsylvania
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

The screaming grew louder and louder until it became unbearable to my ear drums. They were at it again and it seemed like they could go on for years without knowing it. Voices of rage and despair bounced off the walls like pinballs until they hit you deep in the chest and struck your ears like knives. I would say the arguing only happens so often, but minutes, hours, even years pass by before they decide to cease their bickering. Doors slam shut with a bang and silence fills the house once more, waiting to be overwhelmed with shrieking shortly.
It seemed that the screaming and arguing became more of a habitat than a slip of the tongue. Ever since that fateful day, the house hasn’t been the same. The fighting is non-stop, the paint brushes are filled with broken bristles, the keys of the piano have collected dust, and a piece of myself is missing, never to be seen again. And it was all because of her.
The wheels of my chair squeaked backward as I pushed myself away from the wooden desk. I sat up straight and walked over to the open bedroom door as the floor creaked under my weight. I peered through the hallway and stared blankly at the canvas that hid behind the old, decaying plank of a door that made me rot from the inside out just by looking at it. The black canvas stared back at me with desire, wishing I would notice it for its beauty. The floorboards creaked once more as I walked across the hallway, slammed the door, and left the painting to perish.
Sheets of silk covered my body as I laid on the cozy mattress that waited for me inside my bedroom. The window was slightly open and a slight fog crept over the surface of the glass, covering it with its misty glow. The glowing, immense moon lit up the night sky and the stars were bold with brilliance. The streets were shining, the tires were screeching, the homeless were begging, the scared were weeping, the music was booming, the metal was clanging, the world was continuing to move, faster and faster without care. It all seemed so normal, the action, the adventure, the millions of moments that took place every second. And then to me, it seemed the world had crashed and stood in place, never to move again.
I turned on my side, away from the effervescent world outside of my misty glass window, and closed my eyes till everything around me was faint and unheard.
“Darius…”, a voice slashed through the deafening silence.
“Darius?”, the voice struck my ears once more.
I opened my eyes just enough to get an understanding of the details around my resting figure. I scanned the room, no other frame could be seen, heard, or spoken to. The floor boards stood still, the windows stayed covered with a misty fog, and the world was still lively around me, yet something didn’t feel right. I shrugged off the unknown presence and closed my eyes once more.
I flashed my eyes open, turned my head towards the end of my bed, and I froze in place. The figure appeared, small and fragile with long blonde hair that nearly touched the floor. She stared at me with her shining, dark eyes that looked almost like stars from afar. The normal reaction to an unknown person standing at end of your bed should have been to scream and call for help, but for some odd reason, the person felt...familiar.
I stood straight up on my mattress and looked at the figure in the eye. She looked very similar to her. The girl that caused this house, this family, and myself so much pain in just one minute. Her death was brutal, horrific, and worst of all, an accident. I couldn’t bring myself to go into her room anymore, stare at her painting, hear the dreaded sound of the piano keys, or even look at a picture of her. It broke me more and more each time I tried to face the reality that my only beloved sister was dead. Now, this figure stood before me, knew my name, looked exactly like her, and was holding a hand out that just begged me to grab it. I couldn’t stop myself from intertwining my fingers with theirs pulling myself closer to them.
The misty blanket over the window shattered and revealed the bright, night sky. She pulled me with her as she walked over to the window sill and stared at the stars, breaking eye contact with me. She put both feet on the edge, looked dead on at the canvas that stood before her and jumped. I followed her, praying that this wasn’t the end of my own life when all of a sudden we flew through the air. The grip on my hand tightened as we danced in the night, as the stars stared down at us, I finally felt like the world began to turn once more.

The author's comments:

Starring Stars started from a recent loss in my family that inspired me to write this piece. This piece has helped me cope with this recent loss and has also helped me vent with my emotions. I hope this piece was enjoyable to the public and people can take something out of this short story.  

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