Happy Monday, everyone! 🙂
As always, if the prompt speaks to you and you fancy having a go yourself, feel free to use it. If you do, please link back here so I can be nosy and have a read through your interpretation ^-^
I don’t have much time this week, so I’ll set my timer for twenty minutes and will run with what that gets me. Ready… Set…
“Why are you hiding behind my curtains?”
“Because under the bed is taken?”
“Excuse me? How many of you are there?” I stare at her – the girl that insists her name is Stardust, and who looks like no girl I’ve ever met with her bright silver eyes and cascading silver hair – and can’t quite pull myself away from her gaze. I knew this was likely going to end in madness when I took her in, but what choice did I have? She looked so foreign, and lost, when I found her floating on the lake that night. I couldn’t just leave her.
I wasn’t thinking straight. If I did, I might well have passed out. It’s not every day you meet a star.
Unless, of course, she’s lying, and she isn’t actually a celestial body given the shape of a human child. I suppose there’s that option.
Star stares right back, her bright eyes finding me easily in the darkness of my cabin.
“Well? How many of you are there?”
She brings her right fist to her lips, and pouts. The only thing missing is a teddy bear with one ear missing, and the picture of a scared child who just suffered a nightmare is complete.
“There are many.”
She begins to count down on one hand, then moves onto the other. Star cocks her head to one side and thinks, then: “Gazillions and Trazillions!”
“Wow!” I say, realising now that she’s joking. She has to be, right? “And they are all under your bed?”
Star giggles. “Nuh-uh! They are everywhere.”
I sigh. This isn’t what I expected when I fished the girl out of the lake. I hoped for a reward, preferably money, but I can’t exactly take her to the police. “So how many under the bed?”
“Just two,” she says, her voice so quiet I don’t know how I’m hearing it. Must be celestial magic, or something.
“And you’re scared of them?”
The movement is tiny, but she nods.
“Why? Are they different to you?”
Star’s bright eyes look very far away, and I wonder for one brief moment of insanity if that’s actually possible. If she’s really a star, I mean. How far can her soul reach?
“They are going to dark.”
I shiver. That I’ve heard of. Stars that go dark over time. They die, same as everything else, and then they burn out or explode or something, and they take everything else around them with them.
I really wish I paid more attention at school. Or at least didn’t drop out and run away. Who’d have thought it’d come back to bite me one day?
If she was telling the truth.
I’d have taken her to the police by now if they wouldn’t call my parents, too. What’s the point in running away if you’re going to walk straight into the next police station three months later?
“What do you mean, they’re going dark?”
Star gets up, and takes my hand into hers. Her hands are tiny compared to mine, but oddly warm, and comforting. Even though it’s perfectly dark in my room I can see while she holds onto me.
She walks me over to the bed, and suddenly I don’t want to see what’s underneath.
Star sits down, and pulls me with her. For someone so small she has a surprising amount of strength.
She stares into the space below the bed, and I follow her lead. Four bright eyes shine back at me. They are children, just like Star. They are beautiful, luminous, and if they are human kids I’m gonna eat cauliflower every day for the rest of my life.
And then, the star-child on the right looks right into my eyes, and I’m unable to move while his frightened gaze holds my bewildered one. “Run.”
I’m not imagining it. They really are glowing.
My limbs almost move on their own when I jump up and run, pulling Star with me out of the building. Just, she seems faster than me, and we reach the lake in the forest within an impossibly short time.
All I can do is watch as my shabby cabin bursts into flames, and lights up the forest clear as day for a brief moment. Then it simply burns.
The small, new life I made for myself burns.
Star clings to my arm, the fingers of her right hand back at her lips as she leans into me. I’m lost for words. This definitely isn’t what I had in mind when I fished her out of this pond, but I think I deserve some credit. Not like I could have imagined two stars that look like children blowing up my cabin when I found her.
“What does it mean?” I ask, fearing her answer.
“Can I stop it?”
Star shrugs, and pulls me away from the flames devouring everything I have left in life.
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All writing belongs to the author, Sarina Langer