Author Games: Brave New World

Quarterfinals: Lucia Paula Fernandez

Everyone had their defining moment in their lifetime, and for Lucia Paula Fernandez, it was in a tent that stunk of chlorine, sweat, and the bitter taste of lies.

The stars had lied to her, and she knew she could never forgive that. They had softened her heart with their charms and beauty, hiding beneath a mask of evil and deception. It was a crime too terrible for words, an injustice that should not go unpunished.

But then again, the stars were a fixed luminous point in the night sky, a large and remote incandescent body like the sun, as Sydney would put it. They were not humans, they had no hearts and souls and minds - and for the first time in her life, Lucia realised that. She could not pin the blame on the celestial bodies alone, for it had been her own folly and naivety that now led her to be sitting in a quarantine room, anxiously waiting for her medical report.

She should never have placed her trust in the stars.

Yet, despite the fact that she wanted to give up, curl into a ball and cry, she couldn't. She wouldn't. Somewhere, deep inside of her, Lucia knew.

Just like the stars, hope was omnipresent.

Depression waved a noose in front of her face, mocking her, taunting her to give in and die. And she wanted to - she may have contacted the disease, and she had no idea whether Sydney was still breathing or lying pale in some coffin. A lump grew in her throat and she swallowed, blinking back her tears at the morbid thought. Sydney's not dead, she told herself. Sydney's not dead.

There was no confirmation, and no confirmation meant that she needn't choke herself on the noose of misery and woe. Not yet, not yet. There was still hope, Lucia was sure of that.

How could she be sure, you ask?

The stars may have lied, but the stars were still shining.

Their light may be dim, but it was still a light in the darkness, a light for her to follow when she came out of the cave that was fencing her in.

She would be free.