Can I?

Silent Stars

I remember the silence. It was hard not to forget about the cold stillness sweeping down the streets, engulfing the town in shades of grief. But I guess for all the adults it was easy to pretend to be oblivious about the change that was transforming my home. It was always easier to stay silent than to explain our sadness and loneliness.

 In town it always felt as if a black blanket settled over the buildings. Shops were decaying and some windows were stained red and others broken with scratched yellow. I was filled with such pride when I was younger about our town. It was a home that everyone helped each other out and lived in harmony. No matter what.

           One night some of our neighbors suddenly dressed with a yellow star adorning their clothes. As a seven year old, I never fathomed why my elders avoided those who bore the star. My naïve- self believed it was because they were envious of the star.

      The felt stars were crafted with care and beauty. Each of them stood out boldly in contrast to their gray schemed clothing. Secretly, I always ached for a star of my own. I loved stars. They were beautiful to watch at night and always twinkled happily from the heavens.

            It was in that dreary town when I saw her. It was that brilliant, gold star that grabbed my attention on her faded coat. She was perfect. She had beautiful shades of gold for hair and crystal blue eyes. Yet it was if my parents could not see this beauty; they wanted to avoid her.

          This is what lit a spark of anger in me. Why did they want to avoid her? I asked the question politely to my parents, but the both of them just grabbed my hand tightly looking grief-stricken. Their harsh, vast words filled me with sorrow. Their words attacked me with panic; it was a fragile subject to talk about. Which is why it was never explained to me as a child. It would not have made the difference though. I was oblivious as a kid; I was not stupid. 

    My parents did not want to break the unspoken rule. But as I stared at the lonely girl across the street I realized that even though that was the rule it was not the right idea.

        I remember the silence. Silence echoed throughout the whole entire street when I ran up to the girl and grabbed her shaking hand. Cold glares swept the both of us down. But stars are used to the coldness. They will understand someday. After all, some stars start out cold and empty before transforming into a star.