When the Stars fall

"The stars will never change because there will always be stars"

 I stared at the vast and vibrant obsidian sky as my mom's words echoed mind. We used to lay together on the roof of the apartment complex, snuggled up, trying to spot as many constellations as we could. She would show me each one, her brown hands gracefully pointing out each star cluster, her eyes bright as she explained each one to me.

It all seemed like a distant memory now.

"Margot." The soft voice behind me caused my head to turn away from the sky, a tall figure stood in the dim lighting of the neon sky scrappers, even so, I recognized the voice; Milo. "Come on its past curfew, if they catch you he-."

I cut him off, "The stars aren't the same anymore."

Even in the dark, I didn't miss the soft sigh that came from my best friend. I patted the concrete ground next to me, gesturing for him to sit down, tilting my head as he closed off the remaining space between us, squatting next to me.

The neon lighting made his eyes glow yellow as he stared into mine, uncertainty crosses his boyish features, even at 19 years old he was the same 13 year old boy I grew up with, he wasn't one to break any rules, not anymore, not when he carries the weight of his family on his back. His apprenticeship at the mechanic shop was the only thing keeping his family from being kicked to the streets.

"It's light pollution, there weren't many buildings when we were kids, now look at it--Outpost 17 is a whole city. The farther away you go from the city, the more you will see." He grips my hand pulling it away from the sky. In one swift motion he pulls me up with him, his fingers still intertwined with mine.

I stare at our hands for a second, relishing in the warmth his palm brought before letting go, the cold air replacing the fading heat. He was right, light pollution was the easiest answer, especially when neon buildings surrounded us. But I wanted to believe in something greater.

My mother would say that the Imperials were stealing the stars for the Sovereignty, plucking them out of the sky one by one and taking them to the queen and king, she would kiss my forehead and tell me that one day I would save the stars. But I wasn’t twelve anymore.

And she was gone.

Milo shoved his hands into his jeans, his eyes tracing over the city, he looked like he wanted to say something, but kept his mouth clamped shut. I looked over at my best friend, thankful for his presence, he needed a haircut, his dark mop of curls on the verge of covering his eyes. But every time I got anywhere near him with scissors he would run away. A small smile tugged at my lips as the memories of me chasing him around, trying to snip away the hair that was threatening to shield his face, him scurrying away in fear. The memory was almost enough to make me feel better--almost.

I opened my mouth to say something maybe an apology for him having to climb the rickety, rust infused ladder to come and get me, or to apologize for all years he dealt with my wild searching for my mother when I would drag him out to some suspicious alley looking for information when everyone accepted years ago that she was dead. For all the times that I ignored him, or brought him unwillingly into danger.

But the loud explosions beat me to it, shaking me to my core.

Thrown off-balance, I crash into Milo, who grips at my forearms, his nails piercing into my skin. Terror fills my bones as I realize what this could mean: a rebel attack.

The Crescent Resistance was a group of terrorists that plagued every planet from Outpost 17 to the other end of the galaxy. Papa would say they were a bunch of teenagers with cans of paint who would spray their logo on every concrete wall they could find. But that was before the bombings started--before they started to destroy the cities.

In the distance, I could see the rising smoke. The explosion had to be a couple of blocks away, near the city's main Imperials' main building. I wouldn't be surprised if they bombed the building, cheap explosions came easy in the streets that surround us.

My heart sputtered as the implications hit me--papa. He took the night shifts at the diner, money was tight for us but he promised it would get better, but the shanty little restaurant was only a street over from the Imperial building if he got hur--No, he’s fine, I pushed away the pressing fear growing at my stomach. Milo was still recovering from the blast, his hands shaking around my arms. 

“Milo, I have to go--my papa.” I wonder if he could hear me, I could barely hear myself over the ringing sensation that filled my body. His eyes were glossed over, fear contorting in his features, biting my lip I slipped out of his grasp. “Go home, see if your family is alright I’ll be back soon.” Without hesitation my lips brushed against his cheek, my hand touching his jaw briefly.

Before he could respond I sprinted away, almost stumbling over a couple of boxes on the roof the dimly lit space was hard to navigate. Swearing under my breath I quickly climbed down the rusty ladder, trying my best not to cut my hands.

I was short, I’ve always been under 5’6, but never have I begged the Gods more than I did now, to let me run faster, through the streets, dodging the pedestrians looking at the aftermath of the explosion. I needed papa to be alright, he was all I had anymore ever since mom disappeared. Milo would always be there, it was the promise we made to each other after they declared mom dead but I couldn’t lose another parent, I wouldn’t.

The closer I got, the more the smell of smoke engulfed me, it was getting harder and harder to see. One hand groping at the air so I wouldn’t run into anything, the other covering my mouth from the air. My eyes started to water, but I blinked back the tears quickly ducking through an alleyway the dark space a quick short cut.

When the first bit of rubble hit my boot I knew I was getting close. A street light flickered ominously in the smoke as a fire crackled barely ten feet away from me. It was hot--too hot, the once cold air being swallowed up by the heat.

My mind was going a mile a minute, I could barely remember what street the Imperial Building was on, my shaking hand and smoke clouded eyes guiding me.

My heart almost leaped out of my throat when something grabbed at my shoulder causing me to whip around. The figure was hazy in the cloud of smoke, even in the orangish light I could see the white helmet and bulky suit of an Imperial soldier.

He pulled me closer, shouting over the roaring fire, “What the hell are you doing here kid? Get the hell out of here!”

“I’m looking for someone, my father is about a block away from here--I have to find him.” I managed to cough out, trying to get out of his grasp.

Suddenly another explosion went off the building in front of us crumbling even further, the soldiers’ grip slipping from me. I took the advantaged breaking into a spirit away from the man, doing my best to dodge the rubble around me. I hoped he would be okay, most Imperials were more for show, pretending to be big and tough with their batons and armor, but most wouldn’t put themselves in danger, especially not for someone like me.

The smoke started to let up near the end of the street, the heat turning into the familiar shivering cold it once was. Removing my arm, I heaved in a somewhat fresh breath, brushing away the steaming tears on my cheeks. My lungs were starting to burn, whenever it was the smoke or the running I didn’t know how much more I could take

Taking in my surroundings, I noticed how eerily quiet it was, the buildings around me empty and desolate. I tucked a sweat-slicked curl around my ear looking for another alleyway to duck into to get to the next street more smoke curled up past the high buildings to the left of me, thicker than this street I was guessing that was the Imperial Buildings street.

Thankful for the winding alleyways I ducked into another one, the dirty concrete wall caught my eye. Under the grime and filth was the faint outline of a crescent moon, worn and faded yet still there, it put a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, reminding me of what I could face in the next street over. Crescents didn’t commonly attack bystanders, but there were still reports of some poor victim being at the wrong place at the wrong time.

Ignoring my fear, I pressed through the alley coming up on a high chain-link fence, pulling against the cool metal hard it didn’t budge, I gave it one last shove before sighing. Rolling up my jacket sleeves, I linked my fingers through the fence, hosting myself carefully up. My boots started to slip about six feet up, my arms straining as I kept going.

Two more feet. My mind wandered to Milo, to the quick kiss on his cheek, to me running off. I wouldn’t hear the end of this when I got home--If I got home. Ever since he got his job at the mechanic shop he’s been more cautious with things, he wasn’t the reckless 13 year old who would help me prank our neighbors. But neither was I the young and naive girl I once was.

I couldn’t afford to be.

Trying to climb down the other side was a lot easier than I expected, and I managed to let go halfway down, my ankles only aching slightly on the impact. I was small and scrawny, we didn't get much food. It was only papa and me anymore. We were poor, but I had it better than most, I couldn’t complain.

But if I lost papa I would lose it all. I would be sent to some orphanage until I was eighteen then be cast to the streets left to my device. The idea scared me. I could hear the roar of a fire coming from somewhere in the distance, uncertainty fills my body as I press on.

“....Damnit, we can’t afford to lose any more people!” The roar of a voice echoed in the alleyway causing me to stop abruptly, looking around trying to find the source.

Slowly I peeked around a corner, my hands gripping at the cold and grimy wall. A few feet in the distance were to men standing in front of each other in the street. Dark hoods pulled low on their faces, one of them gesturing wildly at the other.

The taller one was rolling up one of his sleeves, an ugly looking gash tearing at his skin, he let out a pained sigh. “We’ll regroup soon Drax, then we can count who were missing, but right no-.”

“Right now we have to face the facts, this ‘resistance’? It's not gaining us anything other than death and violence on all sides.” There's a bitter tone on the word resistance as he points at the burning building in front of them, the melting logo of “The Imperials” slowly being engulfed. “We can't keep doing this.” His voice was low, angry I could hear the frustration in it.

It started to click as I realized who they were--what they were.

Crescents--terrorists. People with blood on their hands, potentially my papa’s blood.

I slowly crept back, I had to find another way around, not wanting to risk my chance with the Crescents. Their voices began to grow quiet as I keep going. There could be more, watching and waiting to grab you, fear built up in my throat as I started to realize how much I wanted to curl up into a ball and cry for my papa to hold me, his warm hands wrapped around my shoulders as his soft words fill my ears. But I had to find him first. 

I blink back more tears as I whip around, running into something hard--someone hard. Jumping back my hands clenched into fists by instinct, adrenalin filling my veins. Glancing up, I try to decide if I should flee.

It--he was tall, way taller than me, maybe even Milo, with a black top and matching jeans, his hair stood out completely, light, almost white that was disheveled and messy. Even in the faint light, I could see icy blue eyes staring into my own, curious and intimidating all wrapped into one.

He put a finger to his lips, indicating for me to be quiet. I obeyed though my instincts were kicking in, telling me to go.

“I’m Xander.” His voice was a low whisper as his eyes trailed behind me towards the men, “Did you see them? The Crescents?”

I nodded, wondering if he could hear how loud my heart was beating. “I’m Margot”. My voice was scratchy, probably from all the smoke inhalation.

“What are you doing out here? Didn’t you hear the explosion? See the giant fire?”

I shot back, “I could ask you the same question.”

Before he could answer, I decided to go down the way I guessed he came, but he caught my arm causing me to turn again, “Seriously, where are you going?”

I pulled away from his grasp, “I have to find someone.” Desperation was hitting me now, without a direct way to the street it could take hours to find him, but a stupid idea clicked in my head. “Do you know how to get to the next street over? Without using the direct way?”

He shrugs his shoulders, and I take notice of the lean muscles. “That depends, what's in it for me?”

“The satisfaction of helping someone in need? Come on, can you help me or not?”

I was getting impatient, but who could blame me. The boy, Xander, rocks back on his heels giving me a once over before nodding. “Fine, why the hell not.” He gestures to me to follow him and cautiously I walk next to him, trying to keep up with his long strides. "Who exactly are you looking for?”

“My father, he works at a diner nearby, I want to make sure he didn’t get hurt.” I rub my arms, the thin jacket doing nothing to protect me. “I’ve been trying to get to him half the night.”

“You know,” He takes an unexpected right, causing me to quickly catch up, “Most people run away from a Cresent attack, not towards, their loved ones being nearby or not. I think we both know what they're capable of.” Xander glances at me on that last part, his eyes making me duck away.

He’s quiet now, as he leads me through another damp and cold area. There's another somewhat familiar fence, stretching high into the sky, but instead of climbing over it, Xander lifts a broken bit near the bottom holding it as I awkwardly shimmy through. The foul smelling ground of sticky substances making me want to vomit. Instead of climbing through, he hops the fence in a quick, fluent motion, making my attempt from earlier tonight seem almost pathetic.

I’ve never seen him before, and I can’t help but stare at him, from the scar that crosses over his eyebrow to why he knew his way around here so well. I wanted to ask him questions, but I bit my lip, fidgeting with my nails instead.

When the familiar smell of smoke consumed me, I broke into a sprint ignoring Xander’s calls for me to slow down. I followed it to the end where the scene of fire and rumble was all I could see.

Including the diner.

It was engulfed in flames, shattered glass and pieces of the restaurant scattered on the street, there was blood--not far from me the streaked stain making my heart start to ache.

My body lurches forward to go in, to find my papa but Xander caught up grabbing at my arm for what felt like the 100th time. Horror crossed his features as he scans over the burning structure.

“Are you insane? You can’t go in there!” He holds me back as I try to squirm from his grasp, but he was stronger.

“You don’t understand my papa is in there I have to find him!” Something wet stains my cheeks as I continue to howl.

I slumped to my knees, all the repressed emotions I've bottled up the whole night coming out in full force. Smoke fills my lungs as I heave in heavy breaths, the ash stinging my throat. Shattered glass slashing at my palms but I didn't care.

Looking up through the tears I can see the blurry sky, despite the smoke the stars still illuminate the sky, millions of blinking dots stare back at me, the same sky I've been looking at since I was a kid, the same sky I saw tonight.

Ever constant, ever the same.