93 Percent Stardust

The room I was in was like a heaven.

Two different candles burned on the sink's counter, wafting a mixed scent of vanilla and roses into the place. Hand-made paintings of daffodils and lilies covered the wall in front of the shower. Beige-colored walls were made dim by the one colorful lamp in the room, laying shades of bronze and brown across myself and everything in there. More plush rugs lined the polished wooden floors, another window next to the shower casting no light from outside. 

The moon was busy burning a hole in the place, loud and exuberant as it shone that night. From outside the room I heard the faint chuckle of another human--probably because of how much I was gaping at every little thing in there. This place was super nice, honestly. A whole lot better than anything else I had at the other place with Markus.

Lots and lots of bottles of lotions and beauty products absolutely covered the counter. A few empty boxes of baby pink hair dye that I saw made me smile slightly. He was being pretty lax about his whole bathroom, wasn't he?

I heard his feet approach the door with sturdy steps. A tiny knock on the door alerted me of his presence, and my head whipped up to see what it was he wanted.

"Y...Yes?" I could practically smell the awkwardness of my tone seep through to Liam. But either he didn't notice or didn't care, because he responded without missing a beat. 

"You okay in there?" Liam voice sounded just barely concerned. Almost like he was trying to hide it. I huffed out a sigh at that before replying with a shattered-sounding noise:

"Yes. Um... why do you ask?"

I heard him give a shaky sigh before speaking. The sound made a shudder ripple through my body involuntarily. I didn't know why. "Well, you can use anything you want in there, you know. I don't mind."

Anything?

Before me were all these ridiculously expensive and fancy-looking bottles of stuff I had never even seen before, and he was saying that I could just go ahead and use them? 

One has to wonder if this man is actually a saint or not...

He might as well have been, because looking around me to only see this paradise of things I hadn't had the pleasure of seeing for so long was already amazing. I heard his steps echo away as he flounced back onto the bed and I was already sniffing around the place to find something to use.

Sure looked like I had a lot of options...

~~~

~Liam~

It'd been about an hour since she'd gotten in there, but only now was she actually coming out of the shower. I heard the trademark squeak of the shower handle as the faucet shut off, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Heaven knows how high my water bill would be this month after all of this nonsense.

I gave a slight chuckle after I heard her oohing and aahing at everything in there. Honestly, that girl...

I covered my eyes with my arm, my eyes falling shut. A frown colored my face now. Every breath I took now was all broken and shaky and somewhat terrifying. 

Don't panic, now. It's not good for you.

'Ah. You think I don't already know that?'

Shh, don't get feisty. I'm only here to help you, you know.

I sighed, air slipping through my lips. 'Of course. You're right. I'm sorry, Kathryn.'

Kathy giggled. It's fine, Liam. Just make sure...

It doesn't happen again.

~~~

10 years ago

~Liam~

"Liam! Go sit down at the table! I have to go get your sister."

I groaned at that. Sure, I knew that it might be "important" to Mom that we were counted as a family at least once a week, but did we really have to have dinners like this? It was always another terrifying announcement or surprise that nobody wanted. Not to mention all the drama that came with it.

I flung my head onto the table with a loud bang in disappointment just as my mother strolled in. Behind her she kept tight hold on my sister, as if she was towing her inside. Mom gave her a slight glare as a way to say, "Do everything I tell you for your own good". 

That look was... kind of scary.

With a grunt Mom settled down at the table, motioning to the center of it with a flourish. I hadn't even noticed the two plastic bags just sitting there. 

Curious, I tilted my head up and poked a finger inside until Mom yanked my hand away. "Don't just go groping around in there, Liam." Her voice was stern.

I cringed. "Does that mean... THAT IT'S ALIVE OR SOMETHING??"

My sister sniggered in her seat, along with an irrational fit of giggles. Mom kept glaring, her features hardening with every second as her eyes boring into my mind. But her face surprisingly softened into a gentle yet suspicious smile afterwards.

That smile of hers made me uncomfortable as she pulled two black wrapped packages from the bags. And with a smirk my sister announced to the world what it was:

"Ah... sushi." Lucky you, Liam."

I felt my gut wrench at that, a drop of sweat already beginning to slip down my neck. Oh, God. Or maybe I should say Devil? Because that sure as hell was what my mother was. She was an actual demon. Why sushi, of all things?

"Mom... did you forget--" I was cut off by her sharply.

"Of course not. She gestured to what was left in one of the bags. You were going to have that," I observed that it was a package of yakisoba, "but now that you've been so whiny lately you'll have to eat sushi with us."

I had no words to offer her. Was this hell? Was she actually, genuinely torturing me? Because if so, it was working pretty damn well...

I hated sushi simply because it was a pile of rice and raw fish, and the germaphobe within me hated that with a passion. Every time I thought about it I cringed horribly. It really was like more of a solid fear of it, though, if it always affected me that deeply. It was annoying to have around.

My sister had practically keeled over, she was laughing too hard. Her head rested on the table, she stared up at me with chocolate brown eyes before giggling again. I sighed heavily, preparing myself both mentally and physically for this type of effort just as the phone rang in the hallway.

Mom groaned at that, pushing herself from the table with a small mumble before exiting. I sighed again as I ripped the plastic off my package and stared at it with horrified eyes.

My sister stared at me somewhat dolefully before leaning over the table completely, her face directly in front of mine as she spoke. Pulling it from my hands gently, she undid the rest of the packaging and dumped all of its contents onto her plate.

"What... are you doing?"

She glanced up at me as if shocked by the sheer question. "Getting rid of your burden, of course." She laughed quietly before cramming everything in her mouth all at once.

A sort of garbled noise escaped her as I simply gaped at what she had just done. "Um... are you okay? Are you not choking or anything?"

She didn't respond, but kept eating. I sweated nervously until she finally acknowledged me with a steady gaze. But a smile erupted from her features before I could get anything out. 

"You're welcome."

I felt my fingernails begin digging crescent moons into my palm. It was almost like instinct now. I looked down at the table just as I heard our mother set down the phone with a click.

"Thanks, Kathryn."

She beamed at me with a goofy smile and a thumbs-up. "You're welcome."

~~~

~Ramona~

When I came out of the bathroom, I was met with the familiar view of the bedroom. Celestial bodies filled with light exploded into my vision, the countless books spilling onto the floor an obvious sight. But when I glanced over to the bed, instead of seeing Liam smiling and waving at me, his body was laid over the bed.

His arm covered his eyes, his eyes unknown to me. But he laid completely still without movement, and it made me wonder just what was going through his head. Was he thinking about those stars above him? Was he thinking about what he would do now? What he would say to me now?

His arm slipped from his face and he blinked a few times, staring at me with somewhat glassy eyes. We held each other's gaze for a few seconds before Liam leaped out of his position and immediately gave me a casual wave like nothing had even happened.

What...?

Liam gave me a beaming smile that seemed strained at the edges. "Are you hungry?"

I stiffened at his sudden words before replying. "Um... well, yeah. I don't mean to burden you or anything with that..."

Liam looked at me like that very sentence was an absurd statement. "Of course it's not--you haven't eaten in a very long time. Let me go get you something~"

He slipped out the door without another word, and I was left alone. Liam seemed... different somehow. What was wrong? Was it on account of the fact that he had kind of (not really) kidnapped me/saved me?

I sighed, exhausted in the moment. On the end table next to the bed, a digital alarm clock read that it was already 11 p.m. Had I really slept that long, been in the bathroom for that long? Speaking of which, that place was a total mystery to me. Liam had so many great things in there, sure. But at the same time, he also had a bunch of frankly unidentifiable things in there without labels.

Wait a second. I flopped onto the bed.

I am in... a literal stranger's house right now. I'm in his, or I suppose someone's bedroom. I don't know this person at all. He approached my house in the middle of the night just as I was fleeing.

But he saved you. He saved you from that hell. He's trying to help you, trying to let you do something for once.

Be grateful.

I closed my eyes slowly. 'I am. Immensely grateful, beyond the point of what gratitude is considered.'

The creature grinned in the darkness, a perfect set of pearly white fangs glinting through the shadows. I sure hope you are. But what if he doesn't even like you? What if, by some freak incident, he might come to genuinely hate you?

'That won't happen. At least, I don't think so...'

A snap of imaginary fingers. AH, there it is. You doubt yourself, don't you? You doubt that he would even appreciate you, you doubt that he would even want to spend time with you in the first place. Or perhaps I should rephrase that... you doubt that he'd even want to keep you here.

I shook my head furiously in denial. 'You're wrong. I don't even know what you are. What the living hell qualifies you to say that?'

The grin grew even wider in the dark, venom dripping from its teeth. Cobalt eyes flickered open with a loud bang as I observed the full form of its face. 

You didn't already know? Tsk, tsk, tsk, dear. I suppose I'll have to tell you then.

Through the shadows eluding my vision, I could still make out clearly what was taking shape behind it: another face, sunken and shrouded. It had no eyes, no features to identify it for what it was. But I already knew what it was.

My mother.

I... am Fear. Nice to meet you.

~~~

3 years ago

~Ramona~

Lisa's eyes pierced through me as she stared intently. Her finger absentmindedly twirled in circles on the bar counter she was sitting at, her other hand grasping a half-drunk margarita. Slouching over the bar slightly, she mumbled into the stillness of the room.

"Hey..." Her finger lined the salted rim of her glass, the salt cascading over the edge onto the counter. "D'ya think I'll ever get someone as good as yours...?"

I turned to face her, taking a sip of my own cran-vodka before cringing. Sure, I was 21 now, but that didn't mean that I liked alcohol at all. 

I gave a gentle smile, meeting her sultry gaze in the dim light of the bar. "Yeah, of course. Why do you ask?"

Lisa gave a huffing sigh at my response, as if dissatisfied. Her finger stopped circling her glass, her eyes now staring daggers into the bar stool she was sitting on. My hands twitched involuntarily at the sight. Lisa just looked... so unhappy. And sure, she might have been a little less than sober, but that didn't matter. Emotions were emotions to me.

I reached for her hand, gripping it softly as I drank once more from my glass. This time, it didn't taste so bad, with her hand in mine. A little bit of happiness flooded through me as I felt her fingers twist around mine tightly, as if I was a life support system.

"Don't worry, sis. You're more than enough for anyone out there, you know. Don't let anyone ever tell you otherwise."

Lisa glanced up at me, her glassy gray eyes flickering between different feelings in the light. But a smile erupted onto her face as she held my hand even tighter.

"Thanks a lot. You're right." That smile colored her cheeks brightly as she downed the rest of her drink. With a loud click on the counter, she set her glass down and practically demanded another to the bartender.

That was the last time I ever saw Lisa, sitting at an underground bar with our fingers laced together under the counter, our minds completely set on ourselves and the other.

~~~

~Ramona~

"Hey, I didn't know what kinds of things you liked, so I just got a bunch of random stuff... Although I probably need to go to the supermarket soon..." Liam met my gaze holding a tray of food.

I stifled the urge to laugh at his appearance, though. Did that bouncy pink hair of his get completely flattened downstairs? He looked like he had just gotten a bowlcut down at the salon.

Liam scratched the back of his head, pointing to his hairdo. "Oh, this old thing? Yeah, that's why I changed my hairdo in the first place. Total fiasco."

I snorted as he set the tray down on the nightstand. "But... don't you want to ask why I got it all pink and stuff in the first place?"

I blinked. No, I hadn't thought about that at all. When I first saw him I thought he looked kind of like a dork, sure, but at the same time I hadn't seen anyone different in about 2 years. How was I supposed to know that that wasn't the social norm nowadays?

"Actually, I haven't. But you're free to let me know."

Liam sat down on the bed, fingering the edge of the comforter beneath us. I swallowed nervously at his expression, though. He looked distant and dulled, his lips set in a firm line. But he still spoke in his usual gentle tone, without hatred or exhaustion.

"Honestly I thought that I would rather be different than ordinary. You know?" I didn't move as he continued with a sigh. "I didn't want to blend into the crowd or anything. So I went for this." Liam gave a little smile at me, which made me feel kind of better. At least he was still going to smile.

"It's weird, I know. But being different is what makes us ourselves. I think you've got to embrace it." Liam stared at his folded hands and let this sad grin overcome his features.

Why did he change all of a sudden...?

"Anyways," Liam jumped up from the bed, stretching, "I just got a bunch of random stuff for you. You need to eat it."

I glanced over at the tray, observing that he had gotten me a bowl of some kind of soup, a bottle of water, a bag of potato chips, and a chocolate bar.

This guy must live the goddamn high life.

I resisted the intense urge to give a sarcastic snort before realizing that I even wanted to. Everything here was foreign to me, yet somehow I had managed to completely forget that? I had nearly done something that I hadn't done in years? Why did I feel so at home here instead of anywhere else?

A spark of knowledge edged into my mind. You ought to feel at least slightly comfortable in the place that you were saved from pure hell...

Liam set the tray in my wobbly hands. Without a word, he simply watched me silently for a few moments before I finally gathered enough courage to look up.

He gave an awkward smile. "I'm not trying to be weird or anything. I'm just checking to see if you'll actually eat all of that." His smile turned suspicious.

I blinked in shock. "You want me to--" Liam cut me off with an almost violent nod.

I slumped on the bed a little, lowering my head in disappointment. This was definitely going to be difficult... and I wasn't quite ready to go choking down a pile of stuff. But the instant that the soup touched my tongue, I was faced with a load of surprise:

I could taste it.

~~~

"Are you done now?"

I looked up from the empty tray feeling like a huge glutton. A blush covered my cheeks as I handed it to him, staring down at the floor in shame before I felt his hand brush my shoulder.

His familiar smile crept onto his face as he mock-punched my shoulder. "Hey, it's all okay. I'm really glad that you ate and all. I was afraid you wouldn't eat anything..." He scratched the back of his head awkwardly.

He stepped away from me with somewhat shaky steps and pulled the door open. Beyond his figure was pitch-black. I couldn't identify anything in the darkness.

By now the clock next to me read 12:24. I rubbed my eyes in discomfort and exhaustion. Sure, I had slept a long time, but that didn't mean that I wasn't still very tired. The amount of food I had just had exceeded anything I'd had in a really long time, and the fullness of my stomach made me sleepy. My eyes kept fluttering shut and popping back open, like I was still a child.

Liam chuckled at my appearance before letting his voice drift into the air. "It's late. You should sleep."

Wasn't this his bedroom, though? I gave a half-mumble of protest before he spoke again. "Don't worry, I have my office next door. I'll sleep there. If you need anything, just call me over!" His voice was cheerful as he stepped outside, wishing me a good night before flipping off the light switch inside.

In the darkness of the room, I snuggled under the comforter trying to get into a good position. Folding my arms under my head, I stared above me to see that the dots... were there. I could see them in the darkness of the room. Had Liam painted them like that? So even when you were awake deep into night you could still see the light near you?

I got chills at that, curling into the blanket and feeling cozy with warmth. Something in my mind kept reaching out to me, whispering things in my ear and trying to drag me somewhere. I supposed that it was like tiredness. I sighed into the shroud of night, air escaping my cracked lips. My eyes slipped shut just as I began to wonder about Markus.

What was he doing now? Had he even noticed that I was gone yet? Did he care...?

Night yanked me from Day and let me succumb to exhaustion.

~~~

In the middle of the night, I believe that I dreamed of someone's arms wrapped tightly around me, pulling me closer and closer to something like warmth. Something smelled very sweet, like fruit. And there were occasional words of comfort, things like it's okay and 

calm down and I'm here. I made hardly a sound in this dream, my eyes wide open without looking behind me to see just who that person actually was.

Was it really a dream?

~~~

~Ramona~

Under the glare of the morning sun I rubbed my eyes, silky hair falling in-between my fingertips. Seemed like my hair had finally dried through the night. 

Sitting up, I watched as another foot of hair fell all the way past where my elbows were. I blinked at the sight. My hair really was that long, huh? Running my fingers through it, wavy curls bounced back. I gave a tiny smile at that. It looked like a long of odd things were going back to normal nowadays...

My hair had used to be very straight when I was a kid, but it had turned much curlier over the years. After I moved in with Markus it had strangely reverted back to being perfectly straight. Now it was curly again. What was it with me and my hair??

All around me, light from the sun was falling into the room. The bookshelves were colored a light brown. The papers were now an awful white. The multi-colored rugs were brighter. Everything had somehow exploded with color now that the sun had showed up, and the sheer light of the room made my eyes hurt with something I couldn't identify.

The clock read that it was 9 a.m. But I didn't see Liam anywhere. Was he going to come get me...? It wasn't like I actually knew where anything was, or where he could even be. I was just here, alone, waiting for something to happen. 

I pulled myself out of the comfortable bed, stretching my sore, thin limbs. I felt better than I did yesterday, after eating and sleeping so much. I hadn't slept that well in a long, long time. And I hadn't tasted anything in a while either. So many new things were happening lately that I could hardly think, honestly...

I sighed heavily, approaching the doorknob with trembling steps. What was I going to see when I opened the door? Was Liam just going to be standing there waiting or something? Was there going to be an absolutely terrifying house before me?

I shook my head vigorously to get those thoughts out of my head. No, of course it won't be like that. Liam wouldn't be the type to have an awful house. At least I think so...

I pulled the door open with a loud squeak. And the sight before me was... a completely empty-looking wall. Curious, I poked my head around the doorframe somewhat cautiously to get a better look.

The entire hallway and the open space next to it was painted in a warm shade of dark blue, much like Liam's bedroom. Several paintings of roses and lilies (that were obviously home-made) lined the walls. The sun cast a sharp reflection of its light across the room, coloring everything even brighter. On a wooden table in front of me laid two candles, much like the ones in the bathroom. But instead of vanilla and roses wafting into the room, the candles both had no labels and smelled very different. They smelled of... fresh linens and something like sunlight and warmth. I couldn't describe it. 

To my left were a few more doors, but at the end of the hallway were two glass doors with white curtains draped over them. Beyond that was a small balcony, with a direct view outside. I could see the forest just from the hallway. To my right was an small open space, then a staircase leading downstairs. A sleek, polished banister led downwards just next to it. 

As I approached the stairs, I let my figure bathe in the sunshine. The light soon blinding my eyes, I took cautious and slow steps down the stairs.

I was met with a cool breeze biting against my skin. Every single window in the house was open, the sun streaming in steadily. The floors were made of dark brown planks of wood, the living room before me with a fireplace and several couches. The hearth wasn't burning anything at the moment, but a couple of picture frames sat on the mantle. Next to the living room was a very open kitchen that looked quite modern. Black stove and fridge, neat countertops and decorations. Everything was so bright and inviting that I took an involuntary step forward before hearing a voice echo throughout the room.

"Oh, I was just about to go get you. Did you sleep well?" Liam voice was directly behind me. Flipping around to meet him, I saw that he was carrying a large red bowl of something. I blinked.

Liam beamed and gestured to the bowl. "This? Oh, I thought that I'd make you some breakfast. Do you like waffles?"

Oh, God. This man is literally a saint. He's the definition of a nice person. He's doing all this for me. Oh, Christ. What have I done...

I attempted to stutter a response, but it ended up sounding more like an insane mumble. 

Ah, don't be so dramatic. Just take the damn charity and get it over with.

I whipped my head upwards to meet the creature's gaze. 'And what's that supposed to mean?'

A snarl echoed through the darkness. If you're going to be a dork like this, at least do it right. The man before you is giving you all this stuff... A sneaky sort of suspicious smile ripped into my vision. So shouldn't you be taking advantage of it all?

I managed to give a sarcastic scoff. 'Sorry, I'm not going to be a total a*****e just because you want me to.'

Really, now? Let's see what happens, then~

'Let's.'

"Yeah, okay." I gave an awkward half-smile. "I haven't had any in a long time, though..."

Liam stepped over to the counter, the scent of strawberries following after him. Poking my head around his shoulder, I saw that he'd already heated a waffle iron up. I fought the urge to giggle at all of this, honestly. This was definitely a new experience--having Liam make me waffles in the morning while I was at his house. But at the same time, wasn't it all just so new and terrifying?

This is exhilarating.

~~~

"Here you are! Fresh and ready to go!" Liam gave me yet another one of his trademark grins before setting a plate down in front of me. I swallowed anxiously when he did. Did I have to go eating in front of him again like last night...?

Liam gave a casual wave of his hand at my expression. "Ah, don't worry. I've got stuff to do today, you can just go ahead and eat and hang out."

Are you kidding me?

My eyes kept flickering past his gaze and to the giant TV above his fireplace. Did this man really mean that? That I could literally just go and do whatever I wanted all day and he wouldn't care?

I nearly scoffed. No, of course not. There couldn't possibly be someone out there who would just do that without expecting anything in return. Or... was there?

Liam flopped into the dining chair next to me, resting his elbows on the table. With a sigh and a close of drooping eyes, he spoke softly into the air. "D'ya want a house tour or somethin'?

I stared at him for a long moment until realizing I needed to actually respond. My eyes fell to the table we were sitting at slowly, thinking of what to say. One had to wonder just how big his house was, though. 

I decided against it. "Um... no, that's okay..."

Liam's eyebrows arched upwards in surprise. "Really? I thought that you might want one..." Liam lifted his head off the table. "Well, okay, I'll be upstairs if you need something."

Liam pushed his chair in with a slight squeak and made his way up the stairs, while I was left alone. I blinked furiously in my seat. What the hell do I do now?

I shifted uncomfortably in my chair, lightly sighing. The choice was all mine now. Although I was somewhat glad that he'd left me be, I was still afraid of whatever may come next. Really, though, what should I be doing? Would Liam judge me for whatever I ended up choosing? Should I just sleep? Should I just... run away or something??

No. I wouldn't. If I were to be alone like this, then I supposed I should be doing something at least somewhat productive...

~~~

My eyes fluttered open suddenly in the night, the darkness of the room immediately shrouding my vision. Below me was the same comfortable bed as the night before. I was snuggled up in all sorts of blankets when I woke, not feeling tired in the slightest.

I sighed in the shadows. So I really did just sleep the day away, didn't I...

After I had eaten my food, I literally had no idea what to do. I had pushed myself from the table and made my way up the stairs seemingly without purpose. At first I thought that I should go talk to Liam, but at the same time I had no clue what I would even say. He said he'd be busy, too. So that left me with a question: What to do now?

Eventually I made it into the hallway, only to hear the most fantastical of sounds. Or maybe I didn't hear it at all.

Through the air drifted the sounds of wavy violin, high and thoughtful as it sounded. It flew through the wind and sang as it did, crying out in a solitary speech of its own. A bow plucked at the violin silently, taking its sorrows out on the strings. Through the quiet I heard a soft, flowing voice echo through the walls, echo throughout my very soul. The voice began to speak of its own pain, its own worries and troubles, carrying its tune in perfect time with the violin. The music gave me chills, rocked my heart and shattered me without remorse. The only thing I saw in my line of vision with that music playing were the most green, most piercing emerald eyes I had ever seen in my existence. 

That song it played without stopping for a second was my lullaby as I fell back asleep, letting the song be my only music in my dreams.

But now, I was fully awake. I wasn't tired at all, after sleeping the day away and basking in the sunlight in the room. Everything was so warm and comfy I didn't want to move. Occasionally I would wake up, only to be greeted by the violin and its green eyes. 

I shuffled through the room to the door, unsure of what to do as I stepped over several books on the way. Opening the door slightly, as to not make any noise, I poked my head outside into the black hallway. 

I could barely see anything as I stepped out there, rubbing my eyes. But as I got to seeing more and more clearly with my glasses on, I saw that there was a faint light coming from the end of the hallway. The glass door.

I shivered as I walked forward, cautiously approaching the door in the darkness. One touch to it brought my hand flying backwards, though. It was chilled to the bone. Reaching for the handle, I just barely opened it when I saw a darkened silhouette standing on the balcony. Liam.

The door fell shut behind me as I came outside. The click that the action did made the figure flinch and turn its head in my direction slightly. A gentle voice carried out into the shroud of night.

"Hey there. I hope you had some good sleep. You were in there for quite some time. All day, in fact."

I stepped closer to him slowly, noticing now what he was looking at. Right above us, sparkling in the night with full force and beauty, were millions of bright lights dotting across the sky. Some shone brighter and more powerfully than others, but the little ones were still there. They looked as if a painter had thrown them onto a gorgeous canvas, using his brush to fling the heavens right into the sky.

A shudder rippled right through my bones at the sight, the breath escaping through my lips in a loud gasp. I couldn't breathe, clutching my shirt right where my heart was. I was at a loss for words. Something began to water in my eyes when I saw a smile in the darkness.

"Incredible, right? Just takes your soul right out of you, huh?" Liam stared at me with beautiful jade eyes in the shadows, the green being reflected by the moonlight. I felt as if I could get lost in those eyes of his, looking straight into something creative and magnificent.

Something swelled within in me whenever I looked at those viridescent eyes. A spark of light made its way into my bones, warming me to my core at every word they spoke. A shiver coursed through my veins any time I heard a breathy sigh, every time that I saw a flicker of recognition at my figure. Something, somewhere, made me become bright with emotion when I looked at just Liam himself. 

A lovely sound erupted from the silence. "There's a quote out there that perfectly describes this, you know."

I turned to look at him, my eyes watering with the brightness of the night. "What... is it?"

A slight chuckle fled into the darkness before he spoke words that I would never, ever forget:

"We have calcium in our bones, iron in our veins, carbon in our souls, and nitrogen in our brains. 93 percent stardust, with souls made of flames, we are all just stars that have people names."

Liam gave out a light sigh. "Nikita Gill."

The water in my eyes--no, tears--finally collapsed over my eyelids, a blush creeping over my cheeks in the process. I don't know what was making me cry. I still don't to this day. Maybe it was the fact that the world was so stunning that night, or the fact that Liam spoke such inspiring words to me. Perhaps it was because I simply didn't know what to do, or the fact that I suddenly felt very, very lost.

Something warm clasped around my hand, holding it tighter and tighter in the light of the moon as water fell to the floor. Maybe it was Lisa.

Liam flinched beside me, and with a shudder, he spoke.

"After all, we're all just stars bright and beautiful, sparkling in the sky beyond others."

Author's Note

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH I FINISHED
this is an incredibly long chapter i know. now im ready to fall over and have an all-nighter lmfao
also my sister said that I should have music to play while ppl are reading this. idk if that's something people do or not, honestly. but here's a song I think describes this story:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-HQ2j-SGBZk

Reviews

[JayG]

Well, you said you want to write beautiful stories. I’m certainly in favor of that, but think about a few things:

You, and everyone you know went through the same general school system, learning the same subjects. Given that, with nothing added, why would your stories be any better than the stories everyone else might write? After all talent isn’t a magical ability to do something without training. It’s the ability to BE trained quickly in a given subject.

Go back to your school days. Compare the number of essays and reports assigned over the years to the number of stories, and you’ll get a feel for the KIND of writing you learned. Did any teacher, for example, tell you why a scene ends in disaster for the protagonist, or even what a scene on the page is, and why it’s unlike one on stage or screen?

I mention that because, how can you write a scene if you don’t know what it is or how to end it?

The thing we all miss is that ALL professions are learned IN ADDITION to the skills owe call, The Three R’s. So universally, we leave our school-days exactly as well prepared to write fiction as to remove an appendix. Luckily for our friends, most of us have enough sense to try medicine without more training. I did try medicine, and might have been good at it, but had some bad luck. No sooner did I put the blood pressure cuff around the neck of my first three patients, and pump it up, than the patients died. Just like that. 🙄

My point: It’s not that you’re making mistakes, or of talent, it’s that you can’t fix the problem you don’t see as being one. Making it worse, when you read your own work, because you know the characters and the story as you read the first line, the words work perfectly. You, unlike the reader, hear emotion in the voice of the narrator. You know the facial expression they wear as they tell the story, and the gestures they use. The reader? They have what your words suggest to them, based on THEIR background, not yours. Have your computer read the story aloud.

To see what I mean, look at a few lines as a reader must:

• The room I was in was like a heaven.

“A heaven?” How can the reader know what that means when they know nothing about the speaker, what made them reach that conclusion, what’s going on, or where they are in time and space? You know. The speaker knows. Shouldn’t the one you wrote it for know, too? And it matters not at all if you clarify as early as the next line because you cannot retroactively remove confusion. You need to look at every line and ask if the reader has the context to make it meaningful either before or as they read. Every line!

• Two different candles burned on the sink's counter, wafting a mixed scent of vanilla and roses into the place.

“Into the place?” In all the world, only you know what "the place" is, where it is, or why the speaker is there. But lacking that information, what can a reader make of it?

And “two different candles” is meaningless unless we know what the difference is, and why that matters. And…if this is 1860 candles are expected. If 2019 they’re not. But… if on a camping trip candles in a cabin away from the city may be normal. If there’s a power failure in the city it may be expected. In a bar it might be expected. If we're attending a seance it might be expected. If...

Again, you know. The speaker knows. The reader, though, is saying, “Huh?” So here we are, two lines in, and what you hope the reader is getting has diverged from what they actually are—though it’s not your fault. And though it isn’t you still need to address the problem: which is that we don’t learn any of the tricks of the fiction-writer in our school years because there, they make us proficient in reports and essays, to ready us for the needs of employment, not professional fiction-writing. That, like every other profession is acquired IN ADDITION to the skills we call, The Three R’s.

And that’s what you need to look into. It’s not all that hard to learn, though like any other profession, mastering it takes a fair amount of work.

I know this is terrible news, and not what you were hoping to hear. But still, we can’t fix the problem we don’t see as being one, so I thought you would want to know.

Forget plot. Your first and most important job is making the reader WANT to turn to page two. Fail that and you waste the time to write the rest. As E. L. Doctorow observed, “Good writing is supposed to evoke sensation in the reader, not the fact that it’s raining, but the feeling of being rained upon.” And we need to do that on every page or they don’t turn to the next. Our schooldays writing is meant to inform. Fiction's techniques are meant to provide an emotional experience. We want the reader to be so deep into the persona of the protagonist that if someone throws a bottle at our protagonist the reader literally ducks. And that takes more than report-writing skills.

A really good basic book on fiction-writing technique is Debra Dixon’s, GMC: Goal Motivation & Conflict. It’s a warm easy read.

A more difficult book is Dwight Swain’s, Techniques of the Selling Writer. It’s a university-level book, though, and can be a bit dry at times—though it is the best I’ve found.

For a better feel for how much there is to learn, you might try a few of the articles in my writing blog. There are a few stories there, as well, to show the various techniques in use.

But in the end, go to the pros, We might not always agree with what they say, but we do know that it works for them, and results in a publisher’s contract.

So have at it. And while you do, hang in there, and keep on writing.

Jay Greenstein
https://jaygreenstein.wordpress.com/category/the-craft-of-writing/the-grumpy-old-writing-coach/

[Ensembler]

I don't know how to respond to this--mainly because it's these types of social situations that freak me out. But thank you

[JayG]

Why freak you out? Someone you don't know took time they didn't need to give you to help you become a better writer. That's a good thing. Not what you expected, of course, but then, if it is, it's confirmation, not advice.

And like any advice, you don't take it blindly, you treat it like any sample of one, and verify the source, the reasonability, and what other reputable sources say.

And though what I said was unexpected, I'm certain, and hurts (I've been there more than once), if you are meant to write, you'll find the learning fascinating, and it will make the act of writing a lot more fun when the protagonist becomes a co-writer and the act of writing becomes more one of living the protagonist's life than making up a story-line.

And given that every writer who received even one publishing contract stood where you stand today, and faced the same, "Oh s**t," moment, it's more a rite of passage than a disaster.

So jump in. The world needs more crazies who can be looking at nothing, and when asked what they're doing say, "Working." 🤪

Have a cool Yule and a frantic first!

[Ensembler]

No I have GAD. I get panic attacks and stuff. So talking to people in general just freaks me out, but having them try to help makes it somehow worse...? I don't know, really, if you'd know what I mean, though.