The Stars Will Get Brighter

   Jillian looked up at the stars. They were bright and, for once, she could actually see them. It only took a trip to her aunt’s country farm house to finally see nature at its finest. Figures. But she always found good things in bad circumstances. 

   She couldn’t help a tear escaping from her eye and trailing down her face. What was really good about this? What could she find in her life right now to be proud of? What could she find happiness in? Was there really anything to look forward to?

   She snuck a glance to the house, the one thing she could look forward to, where her aunt was probably laughing with James and her uncle. Ah, James. The country boy that always helped out Jillian’s aunt. He was interesting, all right.

   Jillian just had yet to find out if that was good or not.

   Taking one last glance at the stars, she slowly walked inside, grass tickling her legs and a faint breeze making everything come alive. Midnight really was the best time of night.

   She opened the door to her new house, breathing in the smell of the house: a mixture of old wood, baked goods, and apples. A strange combination but not necessarily unpleasant.

   James’s face lit up when he saw her. “Hey, Jill! What’s up?”

   “Jillian,” she corrected him. “And you know I’ve been looking at the stars.” She couldn’t help smiling at how picturesque the scene was, no matter how she currently felt. It was a small house in itself, with a small bedroom and a small living room. But this kitchen was anything but small, probably making up half of the house. Her aunt Ginger and uncle West were sitting there talking with James, a plate of fresh apple cookies (very delicious, really) cooling on the table and a pitcher of apple cider next to it.

   “Want a cookie?” he asked, already reaching for what was probably his third. That boy had an appetite. His brown hair was still messed up from whatever he was helping with earlier, and he had crumbs all over himself. 

   “No thanks,” she said, suppressing an even bigger smile. He was a dork.

   He simply shrugged. “More for me.”

   Her aunt Ginger rolled her eyes and muttered, “That boy will never be full.” Uncle West just chuckled and said something about him being a growing boy.

   Jillian finally took the time to sit down, choosing a chair as far away from everyone else as possible. They might be blood related, but she still felt out of place with them. It was stupid, really, but her home was back in the city, with her mother and father…

   Her father…

   She blinked back tears and tried to push him out of her mind, push out why she was here. But she couldn’t help being transported back to that memory. Before it overtook her, she choked out, “I’m going upstairs,” and then… and then she ran for it.

   She crumpled onto her bed just as her walls fell down and the images came flooding back. Her father was only human, and he’d been sick for most of her life. Some illness her family never even let her know the name of. And then… and then he got into a car crash. She remembered her thoughts right before the news: she hadn’t been able to see the stars that night.

   Stars are stupid now, she thought to herself as she cried. But she still loved them.

   She remembered her mother’s face as she picked up the phone, still smiling from the movie they were watching. The smile slipped off her face suddenly. And she hadn’t smiled since then.

   Sure, it was a week ago. But seeing such a cheerful person go into such a depression really got to Jillian. How could it not? Her mother was her role model.

   And now Jillian was slowly falling to pieces but she wasn’t going to tell anyone. It wasn’t important. Her father, still hanging onto life, was more important than her own emotions. And she could hide it.

   But her mother didn’t want her around, or she didn’t want Jillian to see her parents like that, or whatever it was, so she shipped her off to an aunt that she barely knew until her father got better. 

   The images stopped, and Jillian’s quiet sobs slowly receded as well. She took one last shaky breath, scrubbed her face raw trying to dry the tears, and went back downstairs.

   All conversation stopped when she went into the kitchen. Her aunt Ginger looked like she’d been crying, too, her uncle looked concerned, and even James was glancing away guiltily.

   “What’d I miss?” Jillian asked, pretending to be cheerful, pretending to be fine. Clearly they weren’t convinced, but they said nothing.

   “Not much,” her aunt said, voice tight. “Just talking about the apple trees. Great this time of year. You know, it being autumn and all…” she trailed off.

   It hurt Jillian to see the happy mood turn sour that quickly, all because of her. “Um, I was just going to take a cookie,” she said hesitantly while grabbing one, “then take a shower and go to bed. Is that alright?”

   “Yes… it’s fine,” her aunt told her. She looked like she wanted to say something else but didn’t. Jillian quickly looked at James again, who was just watching her eat the cookie and fiddling with his everything around him.

   She walked back upstairs, still eating her cookie, and trying to ignore the eyes she could feel staring at her back.

   She shakily walked up the stairs, and looked out the window. The stars weren’t as bright as she thought they were.

   The next night Jillian had locked herself in her room. She hadn’t eaten for a few hours. Jillian didn't understand; she’d been happy all day, picking apples with James, but now that it was dark it was harder to be happy.

   She finally gave in to her rumbling stomach and walked quietly down the stairs. Her aunt and uncle were there with James in the living room, something she’d come to realize they did every night. “Hey, guys,” she smiled at them.

   “Hi, Jillian,” her uncle greeted her. “Want a piece of chicken?” they heard her stomach rumble and she let them figure the answer out for themself.

   She trudged over to the kitchen, trying to shake the sadness out of herself. Spoiler alert: it wasn't working. There were a few pieces left, and she’d just started eating when her family came in.

   “Sweetie, would you like to talk?” Aunt Ginger asked. Jillian shook her head and slowly started rising, completely ignoring what remained of her chicken. “Are you sure? Because we’re here.” This isn’t what I need right now, she thought to herself.

   Suddenly James was there.

   “Hey,” he jumped in, “the stars are really pretty tonight, let’s check them out.” He sprang up and grabbed Jillian by the hand, practically dragging her outside.

   The second they were out of earshot of her family she yanked her hand out of his. “What was that?” she asked, unable to give her voice the edge that she wanted. It actually came out as more of a whimper. But they both pretended not to notice that.

   “I had to get you out of there,” he asked, rolling his eyes.

   “Why did you?”

   “None of you can be near each other,” he decided without asking for her opinion, something she found pretty annoying. “It’s only been a week since, never mind. Anyway, you’ve only been here for four days. You haven’t found your flow yet. And I know Ginger sometimes doesn’t know when to quit.”

   “Oh, really?” Jillian chuckled dryly. “I never would’ve guessed.”

   He scratched the back of his neck. “I really am sorry for dragging you out here.”

   Jillian took a deep breath and looked at the scars. At that moment, they didn’t look as dim as they usually did. “It’s fine, the stars are pretty. And you’re not the worst person to be around.”

   He looked surprised. “Really?” Jillian looked and saw him smiling to himself.

   “Don’t let it get to your head,” she told him, rolling her eyes. He was still smiling.

   Maybe the winter won’t be that bad, she thought to herself, looking up at the sky. Maybe the stars will get brighter.