Star

Star.
Dark night. Cold moon. Sky without a single cloud. Me touching her. Touching her everywhere.
- Please… - she would say from time to time, with tone so desperate and pleading, the most cruel human being would bow down to her. I kept touching her. Her neck. The delicate skin over her collar bone. So soft, so mesmerising. My breath was uneven, like a one of a beast. An animalistic animal, ready to devour it’s prey with so much hunger beneath this skin, around the bones.
- Please. - she continue begging. All I could do is feel. Feel her eyes on me, so big and full of so many memories. I could smell her hair, a strange mix of golden strands with bright, almost white shine. Like a ray of sunshine and hope. A pure angel. That’s what she was - a mystical creature.
Her smell, so unique yet so gentle and somehow reminding of something. As if by smelling her I could remember all those magnificent memories, full of happyness, that I have been locking away for years on end.
- Please! - this time she tried to scream, with no success what-so-ever. I was just looking at her. Observing. What an interesting godly creature. So intense, yet radiating such calmness. I wanted her. Her soul. Her innocence. Her endless power.
I do understand that I do not deserve such a beauty. Such intent eyes, staring at me, spilling so many emotions. I tried to be calm, to no avail. My mind too hazy and dark, to proceed what I am so desperately trying to prevent.
- Let me tell you a story darling. About a star. - I yet so calmly and simply said.
- At the beginning there was the universe, and the stars. Every one of them – shiny and cold. Oh, so, so cold. Al they could do, for eternity, is to be cold. The sun would not give them even a spec of warmth, obesrving how they die. One after the other. So painful. So… chilling.
After an eternity, a star was born. Not like the others, a warm one. A star so powerful, the sun could never dream of outshining. And this star, amongst anything else, was a giver. So all she would do is give – the only thing she had – her. To every single one of her sisters, she gave a piece of herself. A tiny little fragment of pure warmness and love. She chipped piece after piece, block after block, until there remained nothing. The starts eagerly devoured the pieces, hungry for more. Tearing their sister apart. And after that, they became cold again. No more warm feeling, no more love or light. There was the absolute emptiness of the dark universe.
So, my child, what was the point of love then, you would ask? What was it? Was it a spec of a second, a moment, going to dissapear forever? You see, the real love is the consequence. The warm feeling, the happyness while you have it… as well as the pain. A feeling so brutal and crucial, it tortures you, eats you alive. That is what happened to that star. She became eaten by her own love.

The cold room was quite. Only the distant lights were the thing that you could see. So many lights, so many lifes…
- Please… - she cried out oh so softly, yet again. By the time I finished with my story, the room long forgotten, I felt a tear, dropping from my eye. A love tear, the most salty ones. With one slow swift of my hand, the little droplet was long gone. I looked at my angel, laying there.
- Do you love, darling? Have you loved someone? Something? Have you felt the pain by being eaten, love?
Tap, Tap, Tap. It started raining. A night rain, how beautiful. I suppose, there was a could out there, after all. I looked for a last time toward my angel, my love, my life. Her swollen lips and watery eyes, her wet nose and her rosy cheeks. The tangled locks of hair spread around her pale face. Pure beauty. Tap, Tap, Tap, Tap… the rain started pouring harder. Drop after drop, watering the earth with so many tears. Tears from the starts, the sun, the moon.
- Please. - her last plead was abruptly stopped by her hearts, racing with so much pums, until it stopped. The blade was still in her, when I saw a shine fro her eyes. A piece of the warm star. Or maybe, just maybe… she was my warm star. My love, my source of life. Her white gown, now cripson red, was soaked with the last remains of her soul.
So at last, I suceeded. Taking her soul, her warmth. Now she is as cold as a star, so empty inside.
Now it’s pouring outside. Her sisters cry for her. I cried for her. My first tear, for my special star, warm before, now – a memory of blond locks and playful spark. Because every star, one way or another… has to die.
M. B. (TLSS)