"you have me. until the very last star in the galaxy dies, you have me."
With a war on the rise, 8 friends must try to understand their importance in a world that is slowly crumbling around them. Darkness appears out of every place in their lives...
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"please don't make me do this anymore"
*this chapter has a trigger warning*
Why everything Cleo did nowadays had to end in her crying in a room alone, she didn't really know. And why everyone had to always ask about Cleo's family, she didn't know that either. She no longer had a family, but no one knew that. How was she to stop it?
She stood in front of the pale moon, her dress whipping with the cold wind of soon to come snow. Her arms were wrapped around herself and her feet, now bare without heels or sneakers, were chilled to the point of numbness but she didn't care. The stars shone beautifully from the top of the Astronomy tower as she watched the sky desperately while tears streamed down her cheeks.
She missed her parents. She missed her mother tucking her in at night, whispering comforting things in her ear when she would wake from nightmares. She missed her father, carrying her around on his shoulders and pretending they were going on expeditions in foreign countries. She even missed Renesme, and how they would do each other's hair in their rooms at night and stay up late reading books and maps and exploring the halls of their elegant home. She missed the way she used to be able to laugh and smile and enjoy her life without the feeling of guilt or pain creeping back in. She missed sleep that wasn't haunted by nightmares. She missed how everything was before.
She sniffled, the last of her sobbing finished and now a gentle, constant stream of tears flowed down her face, smudging the makeup that made her feel so confident and gorgeous earlier. She should have known it was too good to last.
The stars twinkled as though they were trying to comfort her, but they weren't doing a very good job. They were too calm, and it killed her inside. With a heart wrenching crack in her voice, Cleo screamed out into the night, shouting in anger and sadness and misery for all that she felt, and a nearly insignificant part of her hoped that maybe, just maybe, her sister would hear her. She imagined the look on Ren's face, a crack in her little facade that would give Cleo the comfort to know that her sister was still in there, somewhere.
The stars did nothing but watch her in sadness, blinking gently the tears they felt forming at the sight of the broken girl. When she was done, her throat was sore and her chest still tight.
And then, in the broken hours of the night, she began to wonder. She started to wonder what life would be like without her. She started to wonder what her sister would think when the Death Eaters that tried to kill her months ago found out she had finished the job they had failed to do. She started to wonder what Lily or Luna would do, or Ambrosia or Indiana or Skander or Remus or James or Peter or Sirius. She wondered.
And then, she was done wondering.
With tears blurring her vision, her feet frozen, the wind whipping her straightened hair in her face, she climbed onto the railing at the top of the astronomy tower and looked to the sky, looking to the stars again, wondering what they would say to her if stars could talk.
