All of our stars

All of our stars

“We are stardust brought to life, then empowered by the universe to figure itself out—and we have only just begun.”

Neil deGrasse Tyson

Once there was a girl named Yume. You might think that’s a strange name for a girl, but so did she, and she had no clue about why her parents one day decided to call their daughter like that. “It means ‘Dream’ in Japanese”, she remembered her mother saying. But Yume didn’t talk that much to her mother and, well, she wasn’t Japanese at all. Her name remained a mystery.

She lived in a house with her grandparents, in a very small town. About one year ago she had moved away from a big city, where she used to be with her parents- and naming those places isn’t really applicable or consequent. But now she lived miles away from the nearest shopping center and also from the perpetuating sounds and lights of the streets; Yume therefore hadn’t decided yet whether moving had been acceptable or just a horrible idea.

Two interesting facts about Yume:

she loved the night sky, the dim brightness off the old and lonely stars, the void of space, and to stare at the dark sky upon her;

she hated the color of yellow so much that she could barely look at it.

On that particular Sunday morning, she caught a glimpse of something yellow bothering the beautiful green grass that covered her grandmother’s garden, and all bitter she went there to clear it away, whatever it was.

She was, of course, very surprised to find out that it was not something, but someone. A little girl in a yellow dress lay there on the ground, her skin being pale white just like the thinnest porcelain.

Yume was startled and confused and scared. The girl didn’t seem to be any conscious – she appeared to be three or four years younger than Yume, who had turned twelve the last spring. When something strange happens, kids are pretty aware they should go and search for a grown-up (she didn’t always do that, but this could be another completely different story to be told). So the idea of calling her grandmother, who was probably upstairs, crossed her mind. Yume gave up the moment she imagined the old lady having a heart attack, because she realized this scene was very likely to join reality. Then she thought about the grandfather, but the doctors said he carried a disease named with a very unspeakable name that made him a bit crazy and forget things like his own name. She never really understood why they had to give a German name to that. Yume herself had been called a madcap several times by the others kids and she wasn’t that good at remembering either.

Having decided that her grandparents were on a level above adults, thus making them elders, she did what everyone or almost everyone would have done if facing the same situation. Not calling an ambulance, because she hated telephones almost as she hated yellow.

(Once a girl in her class showed up with a brand new yellow cellphone, and Yume threw it away out of the window. Grandmother wouldn’t let her watch television for an entire month after.)

“Hey” it started as a whisper and ended up as something similar to shouting “Wake up”.

Then, fingers crossed, she hoped the girl was indeed able to wake up, for the reason that it would have been very rude to say this to someone who turns out to be dead.

“Hey” Yume said again and touched the little girl’s face, this being an attempt to check her body’s temperature. She did it carefully so that she wouldn’t touch the dress.

“Hey” the third time, but there was no reply.

Yume was just about to run and find a grown-up that didn’t have heart attacks or trouble with remembering things. However, when she started to go away, the girl in the grass opened her eyes. Her eyelids opened slowly, like curtains revealing the golden sunlight by the morning. Her eyes were of a sharp yellow.

“Hey”, that was the answer. Her voice was soft and silvery; her tone was calm and worriless.

“Who are you?” asked Yume. Perhaps most people would have asked something like ‘are you ok’, but it’s not hard to notice that Yume isn’t like most people.

The girl got up and made a gesture as if she was cleaning her clothes- well, it must have been truly dirty. She was lying on the grass, after all. Yume looked away for a second, and then looked back again.

“I’m your little sister.”

“No, you’re not”

“Yes, I am.”

“No, you’re not”

“Yes, I am.”

“No, you are not”

Yume repeated, for she had no siblings.  

“I obviously am”. Yume knew that tone because Kyle, a classmate of hers, was always speaking like that. It was called sarcasm, and Yume didn’t like it very much.

“I don’t know who you are.”

“Well, you should.”

The sound of an opening door. Grandmother was entering the garden, worried about the flowers. Yume felt relieved and asked her to come closer.

“Hi grandma, this little and defenseless girl was found nearly fainted by me, here outside our house, and now-clearly having symptoms of insanity- she claims to be a part of our…-”

“Aurora, did you finish your homework?” Grandmother interrupted, looking at the girl in yellow.

“Yes, grandma, I did it yesterday”, her voice was now sweet and caring.

“Very well. Yume, you should do just as your sister sometimes, you know”, and Grandma went away to look at the roses.

The girl smiled. It was the same smile you give to your friend when winning in a board game or when you are telling that you were right since the beginning to someone who didn’t follow your advice.

And so the day went on, as weird and unpredictable as it had begun. When the night fell and Yume finally got to look to the ghostly lights that stars carried and the emptiness that gave shape to the deep sky, she realized something.

There was a shadow haunting her, a shadow that existed only in her mind: it felt like this, because the same as her grandfather she was forgetting something unforgettable. Something of which she had no clue about what it could be.

“Aurora, pass me the butter”.

“Yes, grandma”.

And she passed the butter.

“Grandma, aren't you a bit old to be that conniving?” Yume asked while taking a seat in the breakfast table.

“What did you just say?” Grandma replied, because she really couldn't hear it. Aging deafens some of us.

Maybe it was really a joke, and Grandma was playing along because she decided to quit being all serious and formal. Yume wondered if she should play, too.

They went to school as if everything was being exactly how it was supposed to be: they took a regular bus, which went in its regular way until it reached the school, located in a near city, in a regular way. But there was nothing regular about it all, because it was “they”, not Yume alone.

The girl, who Grandma kept calling by “Aurora”, didn't seem to bother with anything and probably believed she was in fact the little sister of the story. Either that or he was a tremendous liar. As for Yume, she was anxious and uncomfortable all the way long, feeling trapped in a puzzle that wasn't even feasible.

She got to school only to find out that everyone else believed Yume had a younger sister called Aurora, and some even described her as of a strong temperament but kind soul, whatever that was supposed to mean. Suddenly, they all seemed to know more about that girl than about Yume, in part because no one knew a thing about Yume… Or dared to.

She went to her class with much running through her thoughts, but it wasn´t news to see her daydreaming during the lessons. When the final bell rang, however, things changed. It was Science class, the only subject Yume could pay attention to.

Last week she had been kicked out of classroom merely for asking the Religious Studies teacher if Newton's apple was the same as Eve´s; the only teacher who never yelled at her was the Science one. He was a kind, mid-aged man in love with nature.

That day he told the kids about time and space being an infinite sea, about the wonders of galaxies and treasures hidden between them, about unseen planets and clusters of meteors and black holes; and that those were the last breath of a star. Under its own weight, a star collapses. The death of a star.

Yume started to think deeper and deeper, the way only adults are allowed and supposed to, and got afraid that she would collapse just like in the end of a star. The memory of Aurora came, and she shuddered in fear. But, she thought again, I have nothing Death could take away, nor friends nor parents, therefore Death will not seek for me and it will be OK. “But if I die”, she thought at last, “I would like to become a star”.

One day after the girl in yellow appeared, then two. Three, four, one week; until the time passed became a month.

Yume didn't realize she was afraid of Aurora all the time. Only when someone referred them as sisters. And that happened quite frequently, actually.

In spite of the fact that everything was unnatural (if you consider Yume to be the one with the reason), Aurora´s kindness came to light. She was, or at least acted like it, a good younger sister. She tried to motivate Yume to study and helped when needed, even though the older girl didn't want that help. Aurora was always trying to establish conversations and was never sarcastic again- not with her sister.

Even the neighborhood loved and praised Aurora. Before, the family had never talked to their neighbors, but now they were always saying how sweet the younger granddaughter was. And it became harder and harder not to believe that girl had always been there and any other idea was pure madness, but yet Yume did so. How could she have a sister she didn't remember?

But the proverb about the drop that makes the cup run over isn't that recent in history and probably has vast wisdom in it. The day of the drop was also a Sunday, this time a rainy and gray one.

It was cold outside and all they could do was to observe the water falling from above, through the glass of the kitchen´s broken window. It took a bit long until Yume noticed the package delivered by mail services. It was there, near door, and looked like a present. She felt her heart drop into the pit of her stomach. Her father´s handwriting was easily recognizable the ugly and round it was. But it wasn´t Yume´s name to be written by it; instead, “to my dear Aurora” could be read in the addressing card.

It is very complex to describe what she felt at that moment. Anger, fear, sadness… Those were burning at the same time inside her, in addition to the idea that Aurora was just a stranger that stole her life.

“Say your prayers”, that's what Yume said to that bloodless skin toned child right before throwing the package at her direction.

So angry and sad she was that it became hard to notice Grandpa approaching. He had heard the scream, for he wasn't even a bit deaf. Grandfather held Yume’s arm tightly in order to stop her from doing things she would regret in the future.

Everyone had been saying that Grandpa was mad since many and many years ago. Nevertheless, at that moment, he was to Yume the sanest man all over Earth. He hugged his granddaughter saying everything would be fine without really having to say anything. And that was something no one could really forget.

Later in the night Yume went to see the stars again just to wish upon them. And the memory of another Sunday, the same day Aurora arrived, came to her; then she remembered what she had forgotten and the shadow no longer haunted her.

How could I forget? She asked herself. She had forgotten her own wish to the night sky. “I want someone to rely on, like a sister, who could guide me like lights in the dark”, she had said when a falling star appeared near a silver cloud. It was a long, long time ago.

Once there was a girl named Aurora. You might think that’s a strange name for a girl, but so did she, and she had no clue about why her parents one day decided to call their daughter like that. “It is because of the colored lights of the North sky”, she remembered her mother saying. But Aurora didn’t talk that much to her mother and, well, she didn't know a thing about northern and colorful lights. Her name remained a mystery.

She lived in a house with her grandparents, in a very small town. About one year ago she had moved away from a big city, where she used to be with her parents- and naming those places isn’t really applicable or consequent. But now she lived miles away from the nearest shopping center and also from the perpetuating sounds and lights of the streets; and she loved the silence.

Two interesting facts about Aurora:

she loved the night sky, the dim brightness off the old and lonely stars, the void of space, and to stare at the dark sky upon her;

she loved the color of yellow so much that she would always be dressed in yellow.

Aurora liked to dream even when she wasn't sleeping. Sometimes she would dream of finding lost treasures, of fighting dragons and exploring unexplored lands and pirates ships; but sometimes she would just dream about some simple things like that old desire of hers about having an older sibling. She couldn't understand where it came from or when it started, but it was there inside her.

Once, tired by school, she felt like only night could save her from the long day she had had. She lay on the green grass in front of her house and stared at the black curtain of void upon her, surrounded by tiny stars. Some days she made wishes to them, because they told her that if you wish upon a star your dreams come true. And although she had never counted them-because it takes really long to count the infinite- she couldn't get rid of the sensation that there was one star in the sky that she hadn’t seen yet, one that wasn't there before.

END