Our Beautiful Constellation

29 - The stars were gone tonight

29 - The stars were gone tonight

Cepheus POV

The light rain tapped softly on the car windows, creating a gentle, rhythmic melody.

I watched as tiny droplets merged and ran down the glass, turning the outside world into a blurred, dreamlike landscape.

The dark sky mirrored my mood, each drop reflecting the sadness and fear I was trying to ignore.

The steady pattern grew louder in the silence, amplifying the unease that gnawed at me.

"You're not my daughter"

What was that?

Is my mind toying me again?

I tightened my grip on the steering wheel, my knuckles pale. The once reassuring hum of the engine now felt remote, overshadowed by the whispering rain.

Imahinasyon ko lang ba iyon?

Pero bakit parang totoo.

Bakit parang nangyari na talaga ang bagay na iyon.

She was faceless for a second.

But the gunshot...

The sting feeling inside my chest.

Everything feels so real...

Despite knowing none of it was real.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself, but the rain continued its relentless dance, a somber accompaniment to my troubled thoughts.

It felt like the world was closing in, each drop a small dagger of doubt piercing my fragile calm.

Each passing second feels like an eternity as I wait for the traffic light to turn green. I stand motionless in the middle of the road, surrounded by the dull scenery of concrete and cars, yearning for a break from the monotony.

Above me, the sky holds no stars, only thick clouds that betray their burden through their color-a heaviness that mirrors my current state.

I feel weighed down by an inexplicable, profound emotion that defies explanation.

Words fail to capture it, just as my mind struggles to grasp its depths. It's more than a fleeting mood swing.

This sensation, ambiguous and enduring, is something I experience often yet consistently dismiss.

I looked down, observing how an elderly woman crossed the street. She didn't appear Filipino, not just in her appearance but also in her demeanor.

She maneuvered through the crosswalk in a wheelchair, without an umbrella to shield herself from the rain.

There were few people outside, just a few cars navigating the wet roads. Yet no one stopped to assist her.

I strained to see her clearly, not only because my vision was blurred and I wasn't wearing contact lenses, but also because raindrops repeatedly struck the window of my car.