Starlight

A Story by Grace Coggins

Sequel to Her (more or less).

The stars were unusually bright that night. That was the only thing I noticed. The stars. I was always amazed about how different the Afghanistan desert was compared to my home town. There, smog clouded the sky, making it impossible to see any stars; all you could see was the glow of Los Angeles in the distance, turning the sky to day. But out here, I could see every star. And for the first time, I truly appreciated it.

My mind traveled to Rory. Rory, my Rory. I had never been as mesmerized by stars as he had been, but he was so precious when he talked about something that he loved, so I’d let him talk. After one of my worse days, a relapse, he decorated my ceiling with those stick on, glow in the dark stars, aligning them so they made constellations. He had laid in my bed with me as he told me of every constellation, where they were in the sky and how to find them.

I find them now, taking my mind off reality for a moment. To my left is Andromeda, the Greek princess who was chained to a rock until the hero Perseus came to save the day. I always found that story amusing. The only way Perseus could save her was to cut off the head of Medusa. Except he couldn’t look her directly in the eye, so he used his shield to see.

Then there is my favorite. Heracles, the demigod son of Zeus. He was a hero, a warrior, sort of like I was now. Except he became immortal for his honorable deeds.

I just get to fade from existence. No one to remember me, no legends told at my name.

“Hold on a little while longer, Rodriguez.” Someone calls to me.

But I can’t hear them. I’m too far gone.

Staring up at the stars, I see Rory’s eyes, twinkling like the constellations surrounding me. I was running from myself, too afraid to face my demons. But Rory, he will do wonderful things. Things I could never do. And the thought of him saving the world in ways I couldn’t made me smile.

I would miss him most. I wasn’t in love with him, not the way he was with me, but that was okay. Because I loved him more than I could ever love myself. Just not in the way I knew he wanted me to. But he never pressured my heart into feeling what it couldn’t.

But here and now, he was the only one I wanted to say my final farewell to. I take a shaky breath and tell him my last, final goodbye, a line from his favorite movie. One that made him smile every time I quoted it.

“Here’s looking at you kid.”

That was the thought I wanted to take with me as I traveled into the unknown.