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A Chapter by Undead_Misfit
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Chapter 2

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Three years later

Since that day I've tried to find the answer to my mother's question, it's been running through my head nonstop. No matter how hard I try I still can't seem to understand what she meant by, "What's the reason behind the stars?" 

I'm going to my mom's study, it's where she kept all her books for everything from her research to the reading portions that she made sure to do daily, to see if I can find anything that could give me clarity.

My eyes wander over the title of each of the books, noticing the large amounts of dust on each book from the lack of being read since my mother's passing. One book, in particular though, has a bit less dust on its spine. It could be a lead to my answer. Opening the book brushing off a few years worth of dust on it. I cough slightly from the sheer amount of it. In its pages, I come upon a diagram of something in a circular sphere shape called "Project New Start" or "P.N.S" for short. 

This book seems to be the plans for a maniacal sphere with a layer of glass surrounding it and rings for it to keep the power flowing and keep the systems online. In its center, I can see another sphere with a bunch of mechanics each having its own job tox-"Agh!" I yell hitting the floor with a painful start.

Opening my eyes, I find myself on the floor, the book cast aside me on the ground as everything seemed to be shaking with the force of a stampede of thousands of buffalo all running at once. The other books in my mom's study flew out of the other shelves left and right, some barely missing my head as they did so. Struggling, I get to my feet, leaving the book on the ground near the doorway. My feet seem to me trembling before my own weight, reaching out my arm which somehow doesn't feel as heavy as my legs, but still has a significant amount more weight than I know it should. I grab the end of the doorway end, close to the ground. Holding the end of the doorway tightly. I slowly pull myself up to standing, snaking my hands up. I hold tighter and tighter to keep my legs from buckling below me because of the force of the shaking. Using the doorway side to help provide some balance for my weight, by acting as my brace. Keeping me steady as the ground shakes even more below my feet threatening to throw me back to its surface.  I turn back looking at the now large pile of books toward the center of the room. Wonder of if I should go back for my mom's book that lay just outside of the large pile, close to the doorway where I tried to hold my ground crept up inside of me. But I can't risk not being able to get back to my position. My curiosity of what exactly is going on comes to light now and presses me, taking my attention away from the book completely now.

 I have to find out just what is making the ground shake so furiously. Pushing off the doorway with all my force I move my legs shakily and swiftly, bursting my way through the front door and out of the house with my momentum. This was more of a challenge than I originally thought it to be. As soon as I made it out of the house, a few feet from the door gravity and the pull of the shaking earth seem to win the battle once again. I fall to the ground. My knees hitting the grass with a bit of a slide leaving my hands solely to catch my torso.

Lifting my gaze from the slightly faded grass that seems to be dancing with the force of the shakes, like a fire dancer with her accompanist flames. As my head rises by pulling against the strong force of the world, I see a herd of cattle running my way. They seem to be trying to evade something themselves. Their legs, in-sync with each other as they head at amazing speeds toward me. Pulling up from the ground to get a better view of this spectacle is a challenge, almost one I am unable to complete. Somehow I manage it though, right in the time that the herd comes to my position. I brace myself and close my eyes not wanting to see the hooves that are about to trample me. I await to feel the pain of the impact they carry on my skin but it does not come. I wait a bit longer still since I can hear the sound of their clobbering feet all around me. Still, I feel nothing, no pain or agony of which is expected when being run over by a herd of cattle. Cautiously, I open my eyes to see something even more shocking than the herd or cattle. All of them seem to instead of making their way over me, they run in a parted motion, avoiding me. Continuing going past me as if I couldn't be hit, or maybe I was a hill, something that couldn't be moved. In shock of this, my body goes numb, I can't move, all I can do is blankly stare as they pass me one by one not even giving me a second look. 

The wind that follows them, flows over me, pushing my hair forcefully back. Then, more relaxed toward the end playing with the strands and finishing tips of my hair. 

That, mixed with the slight fear that if I move, I'll be trampled alive by the beasts, keeps me still confined to the little patch of land I sit inside of. Not knowing what to do, and being taken back by the group, I watch them carefully with wide eyes trying to take in as much as I can of my surrounding. 

After the last of the herd had made it's way past me, Turning my head to try and determine the direction they seemed to be heading in. It was away from the forest and outskirt of the town, they were heading into town. Which is weird, you'd think if animals wanted to get away they would head away from town, not toward it. Away from their home.

My focus was broken by the sound of my father yelling for me from inside the house.

"Akira!~?" His tone was curious, which was strange.

 The ground now no longer shaking or having any pull at all on me. I get to my feet, I hear him calling for me again. 

"Akira!~?!" This time his voice was louder and filled with more fear than curiosity. 

Turning to the house I call back to him,"I'm fine Dad, don't worry. Are you okay?!"

When nothing but silence followed my question, I forced myself to move my feet to the door, doing so helps me to loosen up my body as I made my way into the house. Making my way through the door and into the house, I spot my father on the floor near the fireplace. Looking down onto the floor where my father stared quietly holding a picture frame stroking it slightly with his thumb. Focusing in on it, I can see a fallen picture is of us and my mom just a few months before she had gotten sick. He stared at it blankly for a little bit, I said nothing in protest. Then he moved one arm lazily over to his side, letting go of the frame. Getting up, he turns and walks back into his room, the trusty bottle of brandy still clutched in his other hand as he opened the door shutting it behind him disappearing behind its wood. 

Watching him go made my heart sink into the ground. He'd been a shell of the father I'd come to know since she died. It was if everything that he was had been was because of her and now all he was, was the broken pieces of what had been my father. He had taken a liking to the bottle and it's comfort the day of her death. Due to this he never really left his room. 

He hadn't changed much, like how some people do when they share this liking. All that seemed to happened to him was he would get even quieter and look down almost all the time now. It was like suddenly he believed nothing he said mattered or he couldn't even speak at all. The fact was my father had left me the same day mom had, nothing could bring him back. Not even me.

 The smile he had always worn was gone, for now, and ever. 

Don't get me mistaken, I know that my father loves me with everything he remains to be. Though it's not hard to tell when you see his eyes that every time he looks at me, all he seems to ever see is her not me, this only darkening his mood more. He sleeps every night, and most days too, the same. With her pillow under one arm and a bottle in the other hand. These things gave him little peace at night still, sometimes when I can't sleep myself I can hear him crying out her name, telling her not to leave him. That he's not ready, that he can't do anything without her. 

Nothing I can do will change this in him. I've tried a few things to cheer him up, mostly when I was younger but nothing seemed to change this mood he was stuck in so, eventually, I stopped trying. 

Sometimes I wonder if the man I see really is my dad, not the man I'd known before, or maybe somehow its someone else that had just taken his body. But, I know better than to believe this cop-out. I always have. I know that truly he is none of these things,  he is no man and no father he's just an empty hollow shell that remains after a loss... the loss that was my mother. 

Picking up the picture off the ground about to put it on the mantle where it belongs, I ran my finger lightly over it, as I look down to upon it noticing only now that the glass has been cracked. The crack ran down all the way through the picture spitting it into three pieces. One holds the space of the picture where my mom is shown, the other of me, and lastly, of my dad. Staring blankly at the picture I feel a slight wet and familiar warmth on my cheeks accompanied by a  sting. My eyes seem to blur slightly. Staring at the picture, looking at every little detail trying not to think of what I know I am. 

The most frighting thing. That the cuts of the glass, from the stampede, represents the divides of what my family has become. This concept had put me to tears thinking about it. Finally, I understand the warm and slight sting that I am feeling on my face. It's the water from my body and the salt was from within my tears that had been flowing from my greyish-blue-green eyes. Just like my mother's.

  After closing my eyes and letting the single number of six tears fall to the glass frame, crashing into it, effortlessly. I force myself to get the will to go to my room, looking at my things as an attempted detraction. Falling into a collision with my bed, I shed a few final tears quietly. I lay there with my head in my pillow thinking of how everything has come to pass. 

Remembering that my mom would rather see more smiles expressed the tears shed, I wipe my tears with my sleeve. Laying my hand back down with dry eyes I go back to my thoughts.

 But of my thoughts then comes a single sentence, "What's the reason behind the stars?" My mom's last words to me. She had given me a final puzzle, something that I know would give me everything that I needed to know, the problems I need to find and the way to fix, so everything will make sense. This question's answer will solve everything.

 Opening my eyes with a start I look around the room at everything and I see it. I finally see what I haven't all this time, that the answer to my mother's question doesn't rest here. Not in this room, not in this house, not even in this town. It lies somewhere out there in the world. The world my mother so loved. 

I need to go find it, I need to find it now, or at least start my real journey. Being here was all just a prep for where I'm really supposed to be looking. 

 I grab everything I will need to keep myself alive out in the world and pack it in a bag along with a notebook, drawing book, pencil, and a few other necessities. Walking out of my room I remember that I am forgetting something, something I will probably want just it case it became useful. The only clue my mom had left here, to help me to help find what I need to out there. I went back into the study and saw the book I had been reading earlier. Picking it up I notice something in the back of the book sticking out that I didn't catch before, a piece of paper sticking outside of the book, pulling it out I can see that its a letter addressed "To my dear child" in my mother's handwriting. 

I want to open it but know I have no time and should get going as soon as I can. I put the book with my stuff,  in my bag, and hold the letter in my left hand, writing a note of my own to my dad with my right. 

Saying,

"I'm sorry Dad, but I can't stay. I have to find the answer to mom's question, and I know the answer isn't here. I know I should have told you about my plan but I can't take the chance that you would try to stop me. I can't risk it, for that I'm sorry. This is something I have to do, I know you don't understand and probably never will.  I have to do it alone. Thank you for keeping me safe till now. Goodbye and fair well. Take care of yourself. 

~Akira " 

Taping the top of the note lightly once I am outside of the study door, I close my eyes and sigh softly. Turning from the wood of the door to face the exit to the house. Leaving the note on the table in our living room, right where my Dad will be able to see it.  I walk over to it twisting the nob carefully so I don't make any noise, causing him to wake up. I take a second to look back at my dad's door where he lies probably with her pillow and a new bottle I guessing. Second thoughts come to mind of what could happen to him if I'm not here. Then I hear my mother's words again in my head, reminding me that this needs to be done and he has to take care of himself now. I nod at the door in a final fair well motion and walk out heading off in the direction of the sunrise. The same direction the herd had been running from, figuring it was the perfect place to start since my mother was so in love and in tune with the world. The sun setting behind me. My house fades into the background as I get further out of sight, the sun enclosing it in its warm, gentle arms. I look down in my hand at the note my mother had written rubbing my finger lightly over the envelope as I'm reminded of her memory. This quest will bring me closer to her since her passing. With all this in mind, I let out a soft deep breath and open the letter.



© 2018 Undead_Misfit


Author's Note

Undead_Misfit
(The picture above is the closest picture I could find of what Akira would look like.)

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Added on January 2, 2018
Last Updated on January 2, 2018


Author

Undead_Misfit
Undead_Misfit

Prescott , AZ



About
I'm a 15 year old girl. I want to be a writer and plan to try and get my trilogy written and published. I am grateful for any advice to help make my work better and better. more..

Writing
Ubi ea Ubi ea

A Chapter by Undead_Misfit