Short Stories + Contest Entries

Written In The Stars

Hi Mom,

I saw your star last night. I mean I truly saw your star. Most of the time I pretended I could see it to seem like I knew what I was talking about. I wanted to fit in, and not make you disappointed in me because I couldn't see the stars like you could. But last night, I saw the wonders that single star holds. I can see why you love it so much. The way it glimmers, and sparkles next to the moon. It has these little arms that stretch out in the sky, twinkling next to all its other star friends. It's unique and inspiring from the rest of them, and that's just the way you like it.

I wish you could have seen it with me like old times, and then I wouldn't have to pretend that I'm seeing the star, because now I really can. I wish I could have seen it sooner, because now I'm seeing it all by myself, and that's no fun. It's like I've now opened my mind more, and actually tried to see past the beyond. It was because I wanted to see, not because I had to. My mind feels open and clear, pure even. Is that a silly thing to say for a twelve year old? You always told me I was special, and I guess now, I understand what that really means.

The doctor told me that the treatment has been working so far and I'm getting positive results. I don't need to wear a hat anymore at school either. People stare sometimes but that's just because I'm not like the rest, and I'm okay with that. It doesn't bother me anymore, and I have you to thank for that. It's just like you always say, "You may feel the light with your heart, but others may not be granted that luxury, so when they hurt you for what you feel, it is only because they are blinded by what they cannot."

I never used to like when you said that. It made me feel like there was something extra wrong with me, and I just wanted to be normal. Now, I know normal doesn't really exist. Now more than ever, the world needs more acceptance, and understanding for one another. This is something that's lacking in the world, unfortunately.

It's different when I'm with you, mom. You make me have faith again, and I feel like I've been missing out for a long time on what that is. It's funny how when someone's dead people start listening and caring to what the dead person used to say before passing, which then leads people into entering a world they never knew was real. But I know you're not gone, momma. You're still here.

I'm not very good at writing letters, but I like to think that with you it doesn't matter because you can hear my thoughts anyways. I just think writing it out is more official, and I like to see what my brain wants to spill out on paper. It's easy talking with you, and you're such a good listener. Thank you for that.

You know mom, I love you. And I know as your kid I'm supposed to say that, but even if I wasn't I'd still love you. You are my own personal star, shining even in the darkest of times. Because even when there seems like there is no hope, every night the stars still sparkle even when you can't see them, just like you. That's what love is, right?

Anyway, the real reason why I wanted to write to you was because I have a surprise for you. I know how much you love the stars, so papa and I went to buy your own personal star for you, and guess which star it was? That's right, that gleaming star you stared at every night, it's all yours. I named it after you too. I thought you'd be happy with that instead of naming it "stary" like papa wanted. I told him he was so original.

So you see mom, you're not really gone after all, and next time when someone says you're dead I'll tell them to look no further than the stars, because that's where you glow every night, watching over me right next to the other stars and moon.

I'm gonna say "I love you" again, but this time when you read it, know that I'm holding my heart in my hand filled with some much love that only a mother can handle. You may not be able to see love, but you can feel it, and I feel all the love you've ever given my with each step I take.

I love you Mom. Stay bright!
Your son, Howey