I'll Put The Stars Back In The Sky

The last thing I see is a starry sky. It’s beautiful. Really beautiful. It’s a damn shame that I never took the time to really appreciate it up until now. I should have studied astronomy instead of business. Hell, I should have studied anything other than business. What was I thinking? Wait, no, I shouldn’t be thinking about that right now. The sky is beautiful, and that’s all that matters.

As I stare at it, it’s easy to forget that I’m currently bleeding out on the sidewalk. Why is that happening again? I don’t remember. It doesn’t matter.

“Actually, it matters quite a bit.”

“Jesus!”

Suddenly, I’m not looking at the sky anymore. I’m looking at my own corpse, and it makes my stomach lurch. Or, well, it would if I had a stomach. I try to look at my hands, but I don’t have any. I don’t have any body to speak of whatsoever, and instead seem to be some sort of floating consciousness. Cool, cool, that’s fine, this is fine.

“Sorry, but that’s not me. If you’re lucky, you’ll meet him later. Before that, we have some work that needs to be sorted out.”

“No, no, I didn’t mean...you just surprised me is all.” I say, searching for the source of the voice. I don’t see anything. “But, uh, who are you then? Death? Satan?”

“You flatter me, but no, I’m not of that importance. I am Servius.”

“Oh? Sorry, but I’ve never heard of you before.”

“No need to apologize. Very few have seen me, and fewer still had the chance to spread my name. But what of you? What do you call yourself?”

“You mean my name? Aster. My name’s Aster.”

“Do you wish to live, Aster?”

I almost answer the question, but something stops me. I look back down at my own dead body, and I can’t help but notice that it’s alone. No one is around to help me, despite the fact that I’m out in the open. Surely someone must have seen me, right? Did they ignore me on purpose? And where the hell did my attacker go?

“You don’t have to answer at this moment. We have time.” Servius assures me. “Until then, why don’t you tell me about your life? How did it come to this?”

“I…”

I try to remember my past, but the memories are different. I don’t remember them from my own perspective, but instead from the outside, like an observer. They’re distorted, for sure, but not wrong. Just different. 

“Well, I grew up in this same city. I never left, never felt like I could. Dad worked at a bank, and Mom stayed home with me when I was a kid. They were…”

I go to say good. I want to say good, but I don’t. Those distorted memories cloud my mind, making me hesitate. I see my mom with a belt, and I see a child in tears. I see my dad yelling at the top of his lungs, and I see a child too afraid to speak up. I watch as the child steals food from the kitchen after going to bed with an empty stomach, watch as the child hides bruises and cuts under baggy clothes. 

“They were...y’know, parents. They acted like anyone else’s parents. Anyway, I went to school, and it was-”

I watch that same child go to school. I watch a teacher hand the child a paper with a big red circle on it, and the child throws that paper away. I watch the child sit in class, confused and unable to focus as everyone else seems fine. The child fails again and again, until failure is what the child expects.

“-fine. School was fine. But, anyway, I got a job downtown after graduating university. It’s-”

I watch the child begin to draw. I see the child smile for the first time as lines are put to page and details become clear. The curve of a cheek, the shine of an eye, the twist of a lip, it’s all created with such love, such focus. It’s not perfect, not by a long shot, but there’s potential. Soon after, I watch that drawing be torn to shreds, thrown in the trash, abandoned and forgotten as the child is urged to put that potential elsewhere.

“-y’know, not my passion, but it keeps a roof over my head and food on the table, so I can't complain…”

I try to say more, but I hesitate. Servius speaks up. 

“...Can’t you?”

“What?”

“Can’t you complain? From what you’ve shown me, your life seems to have left you quite unsatisfied.”

“Wh...Can you see it too? My memories, there’s something wrong with them. Did you do something to them? Is that why they’re all weird?”

“...I’ll admit, I did alter your memories just slightly.” Servius says cautiously. “But, it was not done to fool you, Aster. On the contrary, I allowed you to see your life clearly, without bias or concern.”

“What? Why? That’s fucked up! You can’t just do that to somebody!”

I hear Servius sigh. They don’t sound annoyed or anything, but more so pained.

“I apologize, but it was necessary for me to do so. You had to see the truth of your life, Aster.”

If I had a body, it would be shaking. I feel a deep rage take over my thoughts, finally blocking out the memories.

“I knew the truth already! I lived my life, I don’t need you to tell me what it was like! You don’t know my life better than I do!”

“Aster...did you think your life was normal?”

“Yeah? It was fine, I am fine, no matter what you think happened.”

“Would a fine person do what you have done?”

“What?”

“Look at yourself, Aster. You were not attacked.”

I look back at my body. This is the first time I’ve gotten a good look at it, without the shock or the distractions. It’s still strange, seeing my skin that pale or my eyes that vacant. The bleeding from my head has slowed, and my grip on the pistol has gone slack. 

But, wait, why am I holding the pistol?

Oh.

“Oh.”

“I’ll ask you again, Aster. Do you wish to live? Do you want a second chance at this life that you’ve so cruelly thrown away?”

I stare at my own body, unable to move, unable to think. The night breeze runs right through me, as if I was never there at all. Do I want to be there? Or do I want to leave as I came, completely alone?

“...My life wasn’t normal, was it?”

“Not at all.”

“Can...Can I fix it still? Or is it too late for that?”

“It’s never too late to fix something. It will take time and effort, of course, but if you wish, it can be done. Do you wish for that?”

“...Yeah. I think I do.”

“Very well. Goodbye, Aster.”

In the blink of an eye, I feel myself return. The wet blood at my back, the pounding of my heart, the breeze passing over me, it’s all so much. And I stare up at that beautiful, starry sky, I feel tears run from my eyes and laughter escape my chest. 

It’s beautiful. Really beautiful.