Upon A Star

Chapter 22

Step one: Celeste arranged a meeting with Nick. So they sat at the kitchen table, with only natural sunlight illuminating the room.

Shadows silhouetted the walls, their figures faced against each other. Nick acting like a love struck fool, his hands stretched out against the centre of the table, taking her hands in his while stroking his thumb lovingly in the palm of her hand.

Step two: She dragged back down, deep down into her throat the lump of saliva that was threatening to block her airways. The stress hormones were getting to her, and she desperately wanted to get rid of them. Panicky, sweaty and trembling, she sat right in front of the man she loved, the man that was soon to be the father of her child.

The window to their right was left open slightly, allowing for a gentle breeze to caress her hair. And it seemed almost like a sign, that she was supposed to relax, that this would actually be ok.

Step three: She opened her mouth but cowered last minute, and shut it tightly. She stared at the flower that sat in the small vase in between them, it stood upright and was breathing life, and she hoped that this was a symbol from heaven. That this symbolised her baby that would soon be standing upright while breathing the same air as those around.

So she twisted her legs under the table, and intertwined them and unfolded them, and folded them back again and pressed them firmly on the kitchen-tiled floor whilst Nick stared at her with suspicion in his raised brow.

"What is it?" and now, she was back to step four.

Step four: For heaven's sake Celeste. Scratch the steps and just tell him what you have to tell him. It will be obvious sooner or later, so it'd be best if you let him know as soon as possible.

"I'm pregnant," she blurted with wide eyes, her fingernails scratching straight through the wooden table.

His jaw hang and his eyes fixated like stone. No words escaped, just an intense staring competition was taking place, and this was most certainly not one of the scenarios she'd imagined.

She'd imagined a reaction of some sort. Perhaps excitement, rage, shock: something that would include a sound. She did not expect him to be stone cold. She poured the truth to him, and it was as if she was waiting for a brick wall to respond.

"Say something. Anything, please," she begged and tried to pull back the tears that prickled the back of her eyes. But he remained fixed, when finally, there was movement: breathing. He heavily exhaled, and then inhaled deeply when finally, his lips parted just a little and she thought he was about to speak. But they were sealed back together.

"Please," she repeated.

He pushed the chair he was sitting on as he got up, his feet stomping on the ground as his fingers dug into his scalp. "No," he hissed, and nerves on the side of his neck and forehead popped out. "No, no and again, no." He roared. And her tears escaped, the whole waterworks flooded her vision into a blur.

An unexpected knock sounded on the door, and Nick marched to the door to open it. And at the most inconvenient time possible, he was there, facing Nick straight on.

Luke absorbed the scenario and quickly caught on the situation.

Nick was red, raging and if possible, smoke would whizz out of his nostrils like a bull in cartoons. Meanwhile, Celeste was sitting as fragile as a porcelain doll, tears streaming down her face, splashing onto the collar of her shirt. And she clearly didn't hide the tears; instead, she left the paint-splattered teardrops on her shirt exposed.

"He doesn't want it does he?" He murmured under his breath directly to Celeste, and with a simple nod of her head, his thoughts were assured.

"It's none of your business Luke," Nick poked Luke on his chest.

Luke curled his fists into balls and tried to refrain himself from throwing a punch straight into Nick's jaw. But Nick was already one step ahead, and before he knew it, a loud crunch sounded from Luke's jaw and as his vision blurred, he was lost in a trance.

Celeste viewed the situation from a distance. Blood prickled on Nick's knuckles as he stared at Luke rubbing at his aching jaw that was beginning to bruise. Spitting blood out of his mouth, made Celeste gag, but Luke had to get rid of the metallic thickness that gripped inside.

With no hesitation, Luke threw his fist back at Nick, landing onto Nick's nose. And in return, his nostrils flared and transformed into a purplish red, whilst blood dropped out of his nostrils.

"You are such an asshole." Luke spat viciously, causing Nick to snarl back in response.

"I don't want you, or your crush-," he pointed with disgust at Celeste. "Why don't you pack your things, we are over. And by the way, do what you want with the baby. I don't want to have anything to do with it." And like that, he stormed out of his own home in order to give Celeste time to pack up and leave.

She looked at Luke like a puppy, with big watery eyes, her eyelashes clutching onto the pearl like tears that threatened to fall. So she wiped them away every two seconds with the back of her hand, and she whimpered now and then.

Luke was flabbergasted, he did not know what to do, how to react. She was broken and he was unaware of piecing people back together, let alone the people he deeply cared about.

"Let's go home," is all he said as he approached her trembling body. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and followed her to pack up.

And so, in silence she fixed her suitcase, and in silence they left Nick's home, and the drive until Luke's house was also spent in uttermost silence.

And in absolute silence, she walked and settled her suitcase in the living room. And in complete, heart-breaking silence, she tried to read her Fairytale book, marking each page with wet stains of hurt.

Snow was enjoying a peaceful stroll in the woods. The tree-trunks smiled at her, the birds sang along with her melodious voice and the flowers rooted their petals to face her. Squirrels crossed against her feet and danced as they followed her route in company of the smiling sun.

When suddenly, the baby blue sky turned black and eerie. The cheerful sun faded and bats squeaked, batting their wings as they crossed the crown of her head. The trees loomed above her and haunted a howl, followed by wolves. Faces carved into the tree trunks into disturbing images, the flowers pierced her ankles with their thorns and she found herself running away, but the woods were never-ending.

She stopped on her heels when a familiar voice exclaimed from behind, and her spine crawled as a sharpness pressed against her back. Turning around, she saw him. His face as disturbed as the trees, and his voice as haunted as the wolves.

"Run away Snow, the Queen wants your heart."

With his free hand he revealed the empty box. And her heart caught up to her throat. "Where would I go?"

"Hide if you must," he whispered cautiously.

"Is she here?"

"No Princess, but the trees have ears, the wind carries messages and I must not be seen as a betrayer. So I will kill an animal and steal its heart, making it out to be yours," he pointed at her chest, where her heart was hiding in fear.

"I'm scared," she whimpered.

"It's time to play dead," he nodded his head and bowed in respect. "Princess."

And like smoke, he vanished far, far away. And in the moment, it seemed like his presence was nothing but an imagination. She thought she had witnessed her first apparition, a very realistic and convincing one.

She was not going to take any risks, so she ran and ignored the branches that stuck out like swords. She bit the inside of her teeth and tried to overlook the ripping of her dress, the piercing of her skin and the blood that gushed out and burned her. She tried to not think about the pain that overwhelmed her; she tried to disregard the biting sting of the wind against her open flesh.

"Play dead, Princess." His voice echoed through her head as she ran and ran, as far, far away as she could.