28

                                    

                                          
In the tapestry of her existence, she had endured the cruel hand of tragedy, carrying the weight of countless misfortunes. Society had bestowed upon her labels of scorn, branding her an unwanted remnant, an unwelcome burden, and at times, an illegitimate creation. She had been called a slut, a loser, and had grown accustomed to a life marred by enigmatic trauma. Her journey had unfolded amidst shards of shattered glass, as she concealed her scars beneath layers of cosmetic artifice. False accusations and insults had formed the only companionship she had known.
Yet, amidst the multitude of torments that life presented her, there remained one affliction that haunted her more than any other: a sprawling tattooed scar etched upon her lower abdomen. Unconsciously, her fingertips traced its contours, while her mind wandered far from the place she currently occupied.
Startled awake by an abrupt jolt, she found her body drenched in perspiration, her breathing rapid and trembling hands clutching the comforting embrace of her duvet. The same nightmare had returned to torment her, a vivid recollection of past misfortune that remained etched in the recesses of her mind. Buried within her pillow, she muffled her sobs and hiccups, releasing the pain that engulfed her.
Once her heartache had poured out in a torrent of tears, she found solace in the presence of a crystal mirror. The dim light in the bathroom cast a delicate glow, just enough for her to gaze upon her reflection and the haunting tattooed scar that marked her body.
No amount of wealth poured into cosmetics or surgical endeavors could erase the memory that lingered so vividly in her life. She despised herself for it, and for the first time, she uttered the words "useless loser" to describe her own being.
Lifting her gaze from the scar, she beheld her own image-a pair of sorrowful black orbs staring back at her. Gathering strength, she rose from her seat and moved toward the balcony. The door swung open, granting her passage from the confines of her room to the expansive openness outside. Leaving the balcony door ajar, she allowed the soft illumination of the night to permeate her darkened sanctuary-the abyss of her emotions.
Despite her aversion to slumber, she reveled in the embrace of the night, which bestowed upon her an unrivaled tranquility. As she gazed skyward, a gleaming star seemed to wink in her direction, evoking a chuckle as she reminisced about her mother's words.


A flashback unfurled, transporting her to a time when darkness cloaked the heavens, punctuated only by the infinite glow of stars and a solitary moon. The city slumbered, but atop a rooftop, a seven-year-old girl sought solace. Her ebony eyes brimmed with unshed tears, casting their gaze upward in search of answers. Was it God? An angel? Or perhaps, her own father.
"lia," her mother called out, worry and concern dripping from her voice as she ascended the stairs with a plate laden with cereal. Her eyes quickly found her heartbroken child sitting alone on the rooftop. Placing the plate beside her, she cradled her daughter in her arms, wiping away the tears that stained their cheeks. In that moment, her own tears welled up, witnessing her dear child in such a fragile state.
"Did I upset him?" her voice trembled, cracking under the weight of her emotions.
"No," her mother reassured her, her voice laden with gentle strength.
"Then why did he le-"
"He didn't leave. He is with God now. God called him because his time on Earth had come to an end. He waits for us in paradise." Her words faltered, uncertain of how best to reassure her daughter.
"Can we go there? When will God call us?" The girl's innocence spilled forth in her questions, logical to her young mind but veering from the realm of mature understanding.
"Your father is sad because you're not eating and taking care of yourself," her mother explained, her voice tinged with sadness. She pursed her lips, a thin line of sorrow etched upon her face. "How did you know?"
Aware of her daughter's insatiable curiosity and her unwavering quest for knowledge, she lifted her head and sought out a dimly twinkling star. When she found one, she extended her index finger, pointing it out to her daughter. Lia followed her mother's gesture, fixating her gaze upon the faint star. Confusion knitted her brows as she struggled to comprehend her mother's intentions.
"See that star? It signifies your father's sadness because you're not heeding your mother's words," her mother elucidated, and Lia listened intently, her focus unbroken. Curiosity brimming within her, she asked, "How will I know which star is Daddy's, and what he wants me to do if I upset him?"
Caressing her daughter's hair with a tenderness only a mother possesses, she replied, "The brightest star is your father's star. If you see many dull stars, it means he is upset because you haven't been a good girl." After imparting this knowledge, she gently lifted her daughter's chin, their eyes locked in a bond of understanding. "So, tell me, what does he want you to do?"
"To eat and be strong for Daddy and Mommy," Celia answered, her mother securing her safely in her embrace, their hearts intertwined. The plate of food sat nearby, waiting to nourish her hungry soul. Tearing off a piece of tortilla, her mother dipped it into the gravy, and Celia obediently opened her mouth, accepting the sustenance offered. She glanced toward the sky, checking if the star had regained its brilliance. It hadn't.
A frown crossed her face.
And in that moment, the young lady couldn't help but chuckle at her daughter's impatience.
"First, finish your food, my darling. Then, he will find solace."
Celia shook her head, rejecting her mother's response. Taking a morsel of food, she extended it toward her mother's mouth, her eyes filled with determination. The young lady observed this exchange, touched by the profound depth of love between them. She took the bite, nourishing her daughter, and in turn, her daughter fed her. This ritual continued until both were satiated, the plate emptied of its contents. Celia giggled when she turned to find a twinkling star.
"Daddy," she called out, believing her voice could reach him, and she blew a flying kiss toward the star. Her mother enveloped her daughter in a tight embrace, their gazes converging upon the same twinkling celestial entity.
Presently, she searched the heavens for a brilliant star. This time, her gaze was not solely directed toward her parents, but toward someone else. Several stars shimmered amidst the velvety darkness, and a bittersweet giggle escaped her lips unintentionally. Entranced by the captivating night sky, unbeknownst to her, an observer watched from a top-floor window of the grand mansion. His eyes fixated on her, absorbing her tears and the fervent longing evident in her gaze-searching for something she felt she had lost amidst the stars.



What do you want?
Celia has a lot to reveal....