The Brightest Stars

Skyler

I remember when I was five years old. That was the year when my father gave me a cello for my birthday.

It was love at first sight.

I remember playing for hours; not even caring I was bothering my siblings or my parents. All I cared for was the feeling of that vibration against my chest. I was taken to another world every time I held my bow.

Just as I do now, I close my eyes and move along with the memory. It's been a while since I've played my cello alone. In December, I was able to help my school win against my previous school. I still remember the disgusted looks of the people that once pretended to like me. It didn't matter to me. I already had a true friend by my side as Julia ran up to me and gave me the strongest hug I have ever felt. I still wonder how such a delicate girl like her can be so strong some times.

But yet, I once thought the same about myself. I was a small and quiet girl behind my popular siblings. Everyone loved them. I was the musician in the family. The quiet girl that will probably make it to Julliard.

I remember having the wish to go to that school.

Now I have other things to worry about. The United Force has taught me that everyone has a warrior within you.

It's the quietest ones who are the bravest....

But all those words from Area 57 fades away, and it's just me and my cello. At the last excited and strong stroke of my bow. I smile and open my eyes. Surprise makes me furrow my brows when I see my mother leaning against the doorframe. She's hasn't done this since Dad died.

She crosses her arms on her chest and smiles. "Hey. I'm sorry if I scared you. I just....that was beautiful...."

"Thank you," I quietly say. It's weird how much my tone has changed with my mother. I almost feel like I'm talking with a stranger. "Um. I thought you would be working today. You always seem to be...busy."

My mother looks down with shame. She knows she can't argue with this. There has been weeks where we barely even see each other. All we have from her are plates of food in the microwave. Not even a text or a sticky note.

Her blonde hair falls on her shoulders as she looks up with a smile that tries to hide her shame. "I know. I've been working. You know that the landlord can be restless."

"I bet," I firmly say.

She stays silent at my sudden firmness and sadness crosses her dark blue eyes. "I'm sorry. I just wanted to come by and see how you're doing."

"I'm fine."

She nods with a sad smile. "That's good. Hey. You said something about a competition. When was that again? Maybe I can move my schedule around and attend—"

I clench my jaw at this. Anger wants to stir in me, but I shove it down and quietly say, "That was in December."

My mother's eyes grow wide. She's confused at first until realization hits her and sighs. "Of course. You told me a week before. I'm so sorry, honey. I was so busy that week and I completely forgot."

"It's okay," I say as I start to put my cello away. "You were busy."

She stays silent. She watches me pack my stuff and we give each other one last look before I walk back my room. I can still feel those eyes burn through my back as I close the door behind me.

As much as my mother is fading away, it almost feels normal that we're pulling away from each other. It must be my father's death that taught us how to let go so easily. Well....Max completed this lesson, too.