Short Stories

The Future in the Stars

Human (noun) a human being, especially a person as distinguished from an animal or (in science fiction) an alien.

Person (noun) a human being regarded as an individual.

According to the dictionary that's all we are. An individual among a mass of individuals.

But we are so much more. We are creative, smart, and decisive. We invent and build things. We change and adapt. We communicate. We all have ideas, thoughts, and feelings. It's what separates us from every other species. That's what makes us human. And it should make us a perfect society right?

Wrong.

Because of that thing that we call creativity.

Because being creative means having madness in your mind. It will do unexpected things to you. Make you do unexpected things.

Things like killing someone you love.

---

A gentle rumble of thunder crosses the sky as the rain begins to fall in fat droplets across the road. The wind roars, breaking branches and blowing the leaves off trees. Lightning cracks through the sky as the arguments in the small Greek town house ensue on the edge of the cliff.

"No, don't leave me. You'll regret it if you do."

"You've been off your hinges Andromeda. You can take a break. I'll take care of the children."

The woman shakes her head, persistent on the matter.

"Andromeda. I get full custody or neither of us get custody, no matter what lengths I have to go to make sure that happens. End of discussion."

And with that, the man walks away, leaving the woman alone. She falls to her knees placing her hands over her eyes. Another young woman approaches and gently rubs the other's back asking what had happened.

Andromeda explains in a reluctant tone what they had argued about as the young woman sits stunned. A second passes before she gets up, screams at the woman, and stomps off.

---

I awoke to the sound of crying ringing through the house. Archie had never been a cryer, but neither had I. Until today. The humming in my ears and Lorenzo's quiet reassurances that everything would be alright echo in my ears and the things said haunt my mind.

I flinch before slipping out of the tiny bed I hadn't gotten used to. I shrug a hoodie over my head as I walk down the hallway, floorboards creaking underfoot. The crying has stopped and the flickering lights of the candles cast shadows on the walls surrounding me. Mold creeps up the edges and the peeling paint now shows the yellow I tried so hard to hide so long ago. I pass my sister's room, remembering her face when I told her what Lorenzo had said to me. Adonia was enraged. Not for me. But for the children. We had gone through the same thing when we were their age and she would do anything to save them from that fate. From the pain we went through. I continue past the smiling pictures on the wall into Nate, Cassie, and Archie's room.

A small shriek leaves my lips as my mouth falls open in shock.

The small room has two twin beds on either side of the room, with a crib in the center. And laying in each bed is one of my little ones. My little darlings. Dead.

Throats slit and blood dripping down onto the mattresses.

I rush towards Nate, the closest of my children, and grab his hand as tears rush down my face. His head has fallen back and his jade green eyes are still open in terror. Fresh tear stains streak down his cheek.