Rewrite The Star

CHAPTER 46 : LONGING

CHAPTER 46: LONGING

Atlas stood before the picture, his fingers brushing over Keevin's face. His thumb lingered, tracing the edges as if it could somehow bring the memory back to life. “Keevin,” he whispered softly. Though his voice was quiet, the weight of his words revealed the deep longing and sorrow he carried in his heart. The room seemed to darken as his emotions stirred the atmosphere, a subtle heaviness that both Melisa and Creed could sense, though neither spoke.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Atlas," Melisa said gently, her tone matching the sadness that lingered in the air. Creed, still unfamiliar with who Keevin was to Atlas, simply observed, remaining silent and thoughtful, his eyes scanning the picture with curiosity.

Atlas, his voice thick with emotion, forced a small smile. "It's okay," he replied, though the sadness clung to his words despite the smile he tried to offer. "I've already accepted that he's gone."

Melisa smiled softly in response, though her own eyes reflected a quiet understanding of his grief. "That's good to hear," she said, offering comfort with her words as best as she could.

They moved into the kitchen, where the mood lightened slightly as they sat with cups of coffee and biscuits. The warmth of the drink and the familiar routine of conversation brought some normalcy back to the moment.

After a while, Atlas broke the silence. “Have you ever read this book?” he asked, handing Stellaria Coetus to Melisa. She took it in her hands, glancing at the cover.

"I think I’ve seen this before," Melisa said, flipping through the worn pages.

“Can you tell me what you know about it?” Atlas asked, his eyes hopeful.

Melisa took a deep breath, trying to recall. “Well, it's a story about a boy who falls in love with a star that fell to Earth. Everyone in the story believes that if you catch the star and make a wish, it’ll grant that wish. It’s a sweet, old folklore—something we used to tell kids."

Atlas nodded thoughtfully. “A boy and a star,” he murmured, the wheels in his mind turning.

Melisa continued, “If I’m not mistaken, this book is the only copy left. It wasn’t very popular because of how poorly it was written. But, in my opinion, the poetic language and the symbolism—it feels like there’s something deeper, something more hidden beneath the surface. I always thought it was pointing toward a location, not just a fable.”

Atlas’s thoughts raced, piecing together what Melisa had just shared. As if triggered by her words, he suddenly had a vision. He saw the manuscript he had been searching for, but beneath it lay the lifeless bodies of Melisa, Isabelle, and Creed. He was alone, holding the manuscript, the weight of the world pressing down on him.

Snapping back to reality, Atlas shook the haunting image from his mind. “Thank you for the information, Melisa. That helps a lot,” he said, though his mind was still clouded with the dark vision he had just experienced.

He glanced outside, realizing the day had slipped away, and dusk had begun to settle. “It’s getting late. I should head back to the motel.”

“Thanks for visiting, Atlas! And you too, Creed!” Melisa called as they made their way out of her home, the warmth of her farewell lingering even after the door closed behind them.