A Thousand Stars.

A Story by NamelessBeast.

When I was little, my brother told me that if you made a thousand paper stars you could make a wish. He taught me how to tie the strips into beautiful little stars when I was twelve. At Christmas we made them from the left over wrapping paper, and they shone brighter than the stars in the sky. Some nights, I swear, the little ones we kept dancing on a string in my bedroom would catch the light and shine like real stars as I dreamed about them.

I remember sitting in his bedroom, my hands trying to tie the fiddly knots. He pulled me over to him and sat me on his knee - he was a good eight years older than me and made me feel like a little kid all the time. His hands folded the paper delicately but surely and there was a star. He opened it up again and wrote a small note in it. He put it in my hand and told me to fold it up again. I did, I didn't read what he had written.

Now I'm sixteen and in my last year of school. My grades are good, and I'm often called a swat or teacher's pet. I know there are worse things to be called, so I ignore them. I don't have any friends at school, the popular girls don't like me so no one will talk to me. But, without my brother to guide me these last few months have been hard.

He died last year. He was caught in the middle of a gang firefight, and shot in the left temple. I cried for nearly a week straight when I was told. And since then, it's been harder and harder to understand why he's gone.

That's why I make the stars.

Whenever I'm sad, or angry, I make a star out of black paper. When I'm happy, when I laugh or when I hear something that makes me smile, I make one of sky blue paper. I have two jars in my room, full of stars. I try to keep them equal, I don't like being more angry than happy. I'm nearing 500 of each jar and I'm waiting for the day I get to make my wish, even if it is a silly childish thing to wish for.

I'm going to wish for something amazing.

Sometimes at school people make fun of me for making the stars, and some people think they're kind of cool. I don't give them out, but I teach people how to do their own if they want to learn. Well, I try to. Usually they get frustrated and leave. I laugh a little at that; I mean, if this is hard, what's real life going to be for them?

---

Today is the day. I have made 997 stars. I counted them all and left them in their little jars. Over the next few hours, I'm going to make the last star. This is the best day ever, so far. Once I get my wish, everything will get so much better.

--

That's it. I made my last star, a silver one. I couldn't decide what colour to use so I chose silver instead. I'm going to put it in the good jar now, and see what happens.

--

I know I shouldn't have been so childish and naive to expect this to work... It didn't, nothing happened. I hate that I'm upset now but, it just seems unfair. It seems like I was cheated out of something.

--

Yesterday I made my last star, and today I got angry. This morning and collected both jars and dumped them on the floor. All the stars, all the wasted time and effort. I stomped on them with my DMs before I went to school. Screw you for making me think I had a shot at happiness.

--

I came home and the stars were still on the floor. They were just there, broken and littered about. I'm too tired and angry to care what happens next. I'll tidy them in the morning, for now I just want to sleep.

--

A strange sound roused me from my slumber, a noise I've never heard before. It sounded like tinkling bells. It was... Odd. I looked around and saw, something I had never even imagined would happen.

The stars I had knocked on the floor started to shimmer and glow, bright light streaming from their points. Each of them gave off a different colour. And the smell, the smell was beautiful. It was like being in a candy store, all the sugar and the sweetness that's in the air just waiting to be tasted. My heart started pounding as I watched them from my bed.

Two star beams crossed, then more and more and more focused on that one point at the foot of my bed. I clenched my eyes tight when it happened. The light was blinding. And then, it was gone.

I slowly peeked out of one eye. I saw, in front of me, a boy about my age. He was as pale as the moon, silvery lips and cheeks. His hair was blacker than night, swept back in a stylish mess. His hands gripped a cane, they were masculine and lined with veins while the cane was the blackest wood I have ever seen. His clothes were spectacular. A black suit with light blue trimmings and a beautiful sky blue shirt open at the collar. The things that got me most though, were his eyes. Stunningly blue, shockingly so. His eyes seemed ageless and shameless. He was beautiful and classical and terrifying.

"Hello," he said, his voice as soft as rolling thunder. "Do you have a wish to make?"

I nodded, not sure my voice would work yet. I stared at him, at the way he moved. Even his breathing was delicate and exact.

He smiled, his impossibly white teeth were sharp and glistened in the darkness. "What is it?" He twirled his cane, "I could give you another life, take you somewhere you've never been, make you remember things you've never done, give you knowledge you wouldn't otherwise know... I can make you special beyond your wildest dreams."

I swallowed and pulled the covers back. Cautiously I climbed out of bed and walked around to him. He was dressed immaculately, except for his shoes. He was wearing black leather Doctor Martin boots. I laughed a little and his eyebrows shot up.

"Do I amuse you?"

I nodded, covering my mouth. He looked horrified that I was laughing at him, and for a second I felt bad about it.

"I was made by you." He sighed, "everything about me was decided by you. I am blue and black and silver because you chose those colours. I am wearing this suit because you like it. I am carrying this daft cane because you like it."

"Can't you change into something else?" I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper.

He nodded and as he did, his clothes changed. His suit turned into jeans and a stretch tee. He looked ten times better in this than the suit. I grinned at him and he smiled back, unsure. "This is highly irregular."

I snorted as I thought about him becoming an adult and saying that to other people who had made stars like me. Suddenly, I realised something. "I don't want you to go."

"Excuse me?"

"My wish." I looked down at my feet. "I was going to wish for a friend... But, can I wish for you to stay instead?"

"Of course." He smiled, his face softening and his cheeks getting a little pinker. His nose rounded out and his hands became slightly more fleshy. His hair was still jet black and his eyes still out blued the sky, but he was a different person.

--