My Star Min Yoongi

Life on Earth

"Non est ad astra mollis e terris via" - "There is no easy way from the earth to the stars"

― Seneca

"He's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same." This is the quote from Wuthering Heights that ruined it for me. The quote that justified ruining so many people's lives- in the name of love.

I was always more of a Charlotte girl anyways. "I care for myself. The more solitary, the more friendless, the more unsustained I am, the more I will respect myself." It was those words that touched me. There was no reason a quote about all consuming love should need to touch my heart. It never clouded my judgement.

I used to have five people in my life I loved.

My parents. Of course. It was always the three of us. The three fates of Greece, or that was what they called us. Both of my parents were professors at Grellvery University. It was new and shiny and already being mentioned in the same sentence as Harvard. People always assumed my love of reading came from them, but I claimed it as my own. My mother, Professor Isabelle Jackson, taught anthropology and sociology and my father, Professor Michael Jackson-please don't make any pop-culture jokes. He's got enough of those his entire life- is a professor of biology. Needless to say, neither one was the biggest fan of fiction. The Brontë and Jane Austen and Louisa May Alcott on the shelf was all for the socialite professors who came to cocktail parties and admired their tasteful choice of literature. They wanted to create their perfect personal library. I was the one who read them. They taught me the valuable lessons on what family means and what education means, but my love of literature and writing was all taught to me by the books on the shelf.

The next person is Anthony. Maybe, I was an only child, but Tony was a brother in every way but blood. We'd been inseparable since we were small and had a fair share of arguments over the years, but we always made up and we were always there for each other. He was what you might call... popular at school and while I was his closest friend I didn't exactly fit in with the rest of his group. Outside of school we were thick as thieves, but I didn't like the cafeteria too much anyways. There were too many people and too much sound all contained in one place.

Which leads me to Dani Monroe. She was the school librarian. She was twenty-six years old, fresh out of her teacher training year and immediately snatched up the position as soon as she could. She was lucky the university was so new. Second only to Tony, she was my best friend. I was nearly twenty-three, and we were closer in age to each other than she was to any of the other staff at Grellvery University. We didn't live in a valley, so the name was a little strange. We lived surrounded by endless green trees in the-middle-of-nowhere Oregon, otherwise known as Fallon. Anyways, back to Dani. She had bright purple hair and loved fantasy novels and cosplay. She took me with her down to the California Comic Con but I had a panic attack with the crowd and we left early. I felt so bad, but she never held it against me. She never brought it up or made me feel bad.

And last not but not least Jo. Jo is my cat. She's a ginger tabby and she's the best listener in the world. I read out my stories and poems to her and she can't judge me. I named her after Jo from Little Women, but you probably guessed that. My parents got me a cat that had the same colour hair as me. I'd been teased at school for having no soul, so they got me a ginger cat to make me feel better. It worked too. Other than when she tears my notebooks, we get along pretty well. I'm very particular about my notebooks. They're all in a pastel palette to keep a light and happy vibe in my room. The blue ones are my own personal journals. I write in them every night at eight-thirty pm sharp. The purple ones are full of poetry, most of it is about nature or depression- very original, I know - but there were a few where I played the role of the lover or the beloved. The yellow ones were for my stories. My own little worlds where I could do anything; be anything.

All of that changed.

My routines. My notebooks. My friends. My fears. My dislike of Wuthering Heights. It all changed after half the people I loved died and everything fell apart.

It all changed when one more impossible thing happened.

I was abducted by aliens.