Chasing Stars ✔️

2.

"When he shall die,

Take him and cut him out in little stars,

And he will make the face of heaven so fine

That all the world will be in love with night

And pay no worship to the garish sun."

― William Shakespeare

She

Everything was dark. Not just in the sense of absence of light. No, it was a bone-chilling kind of darkness. An absolute void was embracing me, a sensation that was all too familiar to me. As far as I could remember, that was what my dreams were made of. I used to describe them as being afloat in the night sky with no stars. The artifice made it easier to deal with the fact that my dreams were almost as oppressive as my nightmares. This time around, though, I had the feeling that I should be experiencing pain. Yet, I couldn't sense anything, as if I was detached from my body.

Was this it? Was I dead? Did she kill me? Did my own mother beat me to death?

Yes, I was probably dead. How else was it possible for all the pain to be gone? I was disappointed that I couldn't see anything. I was never a religious person, neither gave much thought to life after death, but I found myself thinking it would be nice to see my grandmother. I really missed her. Did she know what her daughter did? Did she see it? I hoped not; she would be so terribly sad, so disappointed... Was it possible to feel disappointment towards the living after you died? Or anything at all?...

I couldn't think about that. Perhaps If I would just call her, she would listen to me.

"Grandma?"

As I tried to speak, I realized my tongue was sticking to my mouth. It felt so dry it hurt. But I had to try. She had to listen... Maybe where we were now, we could do how we used to when I was a little girl? We could make butter cookies and mint tea while playing word games. She would always let me win, pretending that the words I invented were real. I hoped we were allowed to eat cookies in heaven... silly me, of course, we must be, there are cookies, after all, nothing more heavenly than that...

"Grandma?" I repeated, satisfied with myself, for managing to produce something at least similar to a sound.

I was half-surprised when I heard a voice in response. It sounded familiar, and a warm feeling spread in my chest. Was that my grandma? I couldn't tell. The voice seemed familiar but was coming off too muffled for me to recognize or understand what it was saying. I had to open my eyes.

After a few tries, my eyelids started to obey me. They felt heavy as I regained the conscience of my body again. A troubling pain was penetrating my skull, a hit of white light violating my eyes when I tried to open them past my eyelashes.

And that was when I realized I was very much alive indeed. I was breathing, although it hurt. My heart was beating, and strangely that also hurt, as the sound of it resonated through my body, traveling straight to my aching head. I couldn't help the disappointment at not being able to see my grandmother, and at the same time, I was relieved for being alive.

"Alexa? Can you hear me?" There was the voice again, and it was so soft, barely a whisper close to my ear. The concern in her tone was unmistakable. I wanted to smile as I finally realized who that familiar voice belonged to, but I was not sure my muscles were obeying my brain yet. I needed to see her. Because I knew when I did, I would know for sure that everything would be ok. She was always there for me. She saved me so many times before, in so many ways.

The thought of it gave me the extra boost to open my eyes completely. Her round face framed with curly dark hair was adorned with a smile, although marks of tears were visible in her cheeks.