Starlight

Stars. Beautiful, twinkling diamonds that stand out against the night sky. The moon illuminates small spots of the forest, making it all different shades of green, black, and brown. Fireflies blink at the edge of the treeline, acting like fallen stars. A cool breeze blows, ruffling the leaves and shaking branches. Crickets chirp and wolf's howl, interrupting the peaceful, silent atmosphere. 

Grass tickles her feet as Eva laid back, resting the back of her head on her folded up hands. Staring up into the starlit sky, she sighed, reliving old memories. 

Her dad, swinging her in his arms, tumbling on the grass, laughing as they fell. Rain splashing down on their faces, soaking them to the bone, chilling them. The sun, beating down on their heads as they played soccer, scorching their cheeks and burning their arms. Countless water balloon fights, all ending within five minutes of starting; due to her father's surrender after getting hit numerous times. Many nights spent gazing at the stars, her dad pointing out all the ones she didn't know. Accidently falling asleep side by side, then waking up, a thick layer of fog surrounding them, making the walk back difficult. But nevertheless, they always made it. 

Eva closes close she eyes, tears slipping down the side of her face as they squeeze past her tightly shut eyelids. He died a hero; saving her and everybody else in the store from a gunman who had entered during the busiest hours. He had tackled the man to ground, wrestling the gun out of his hand, but not before getting shot in the abdomen. He had pinned the guy to the ground, blood dripping all over the floor, face going pale, but he held on until the cops got there. Then, he let go, falling back, blood pooling around him. 

Eva had run up to him, tears streaming down her face, and hugged him, telling her dad he would be okay. But deep down, she knew he wouldn't make it. His last words to her were "I love you." He then had reached into his pocket, dragging out a pocket knife, polished wooden handle, silver blade, sharp as a razor blade, and a switch to flip it out and back in. He had pushed her away as he died, leaving a bloody handprint on her shirt. 

The paramedics took him away, trying to revive him. Eva watched from her seat in the ambulance. She watched the blood leave his body, she watched the paramedics hands pumping at her fathers chest, she watched as the line slowly went flat. Numbness overtook her. She sank to the ground; hands trembling, teeth clenched, breath ragged, and screamed. She screamed as loud as she ever had, she screamed until her throat was raw and her voice hoarse. 

Of course once they got to the hospital, she was questioned by the police about what had happened and what she had saw. She still had on the same shirt with her father's handprint stained deep within the fabric. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying, her voice just barely above a whisper; she retold the whole thing, breaking into sobs at random moments. Eva could see the look of pity on all the officers faces. She hated it. 

Gripping the pocket knife stored in her pocket, he took deeps breaths, building up the courage to tell them the worst part; they were there shopping for a new soccer ball, one that would last even longer than the one they had currently. 

Eva never got her soccer ball, and she never got to spend another moment with her father. She was 13. 

Now, 16, Eva stares at the stars, having all of the constellations memorized by heart. Flipping the blade in and out calmed her. It was the only thing she had left of her father. Her mother had given away all of his stuff, trying to act like he never existed. But she could see the pain behind her mother's eyes every time she looked at her. 

The grass she is laying on has gone flat, no longer making her skin itch. She checks her watch: 12:38 AM. Three hours. Eva has been laying out here for three whole hours, looking and remembering. I nice things to do to fill time. 

Her dad used to cut the grass on the field at least once a week, but since his death, the job has fallen to Eva; leaving her sweaty and exhausted by the time she finishes. Her mom does not know about this little clearing she has, and Eva wants it to stay that way. Her mom might freak out if she ever finds out because of the connection Eva and her father had shared many times here. So Eva made sure to sneak out when her mom was sound asleep. 

It isn't as hard as she had originally thought; just open the first story window, quietly pop the screen out, and crawl out. Simple. Eva comes here most nights, shedding tears for her father and wishing he was still alive. They had been close ever since Eva could talk. Her father never spoke to her like a baby, no, he spoke to her like an adult would to another adult. Teaching her how to defend herself all throughout her childhood, how to defend someone else, and most importantly, how to get out of sticky situations. 

For instance, lets say Eva ever found herself being kidnapped, bound, gagged, and thrown into a trunk of a car. What would she do? Easy, wriggle her hands loose enough where she could slip one out, take off the blindfold and rip the gag off of her mouth. Then, punch the taillights out and wave her arm through the hole. If that doesn't get anybody's attention, or if no one is around, wait until the car slows, then pull the cord that opens the trunk, jump out and run. 

Running; that's another thing her father taught her, how to run for long periods of time. He signed her up for cross country, track, and softball. The softball was mainly for building muscle and swinging a bat at a high speed for defence, but Eva loved playing the sports. 

She doesn't have the heart to continue playing them, she doesn't want to go to races, games or meets without her father in the stands, cheering her name loud and clear as a bell. She misses those days, the days her father was still living.

*snap*

The noise jolts Eva from her thoughts, snapping her back to reality, suckign her right back into her depression. Standing up, she spins toward the sound. Squinting her eyes, she can barely make out the figure. It could be a wolf, or coyote, makybe a fox, there is no way of telling in this darkness. The best thing for her to do at this moment is to slowly back away, making no sudden moves. Of course her father had taught her how to defend herself against animals, but she didn't want to hurt any, so she tried to push that part of training out of her mind. 

A growl slices through the air, shattering any doubt Eva had: wolf. It was a wolf, a rare sight in this part of the country. Backing up, she switches her blade open, holding it in front of her, ready to defend herself. The wolf slowly prowls closer. It takes two steps for every one step Eva takes. Very slowly, but surely, gaining on her. 

It started getting faster, closing in on her, breath hot and nostrils snorting. 

It pounces as Eva thrusts the knife toward its heart. The blade never reaches it. 

A shadow has tackled it to the ground, choking it, killing it. The wolf wimpers, then growls, snapping its jaws at a shadow. A few minutes go by, the wolf hardly hanging onto life. Then, it goes quiet. 

"Hello?" Eva calls out, tentatively taking a step forward, knife open.

"Eva," Someone replies, "I've missed you."

She turns to find a figure like shadow standing behind her, its face looking an awfully lot like her fathers. But, that's impossible, her father died three years ago. 

"Dad?" She asks, reaching a hand out.

"Yes, it's me, princess, its me." He chokes up.

"Dad!" She throws her arms around him, embracing him ina bear hug. 

"I cannot keep this form for very long," Her father warns, hugging her back, "I had to save you. I love you."

"I love you too, dad." She cries into his shoulder, not letting him pull away.

"I have to go, but I am watching over you; don't ever forget that." Her father ruffles her hair and drift into the sky, disappearing from view, leaving Eva looking up at the stars, tears rolling down her face, starlight beaming down, as if it's comforting her. The diamonds in the night sky continue to twinkle.