Submit Your Story: When the Stars Speak

 “Christopher Anderson! This is the fourteenth time this month! What now?” Mrs. Johnson’s nasal voice cut into my thoughts.

Mr. Thompson looked annoyed and tired. Probably since this wasn’t the first time we had been here. “He destroyed school property.”

I crossed my arms, scowling. “Wasn’t my fault… Maya teased me… Said I was slow… Be glad I punched the computer and not her!”

Mr. Thompson frowned. “Don’t you dare bring Maya Brown into this! She is a victim!”

Tears welled up in my eyes as Mrs. Johnson picked up the phone, pushed the speakerphone button, and dialed Dad. 

“Mr. Anderson, this is Mrs. Johnson, your son’s principal. I have him in my office right now,” Mrs. Johnson said in her sickly sweet voice.

“What did he do this time?” Dad said. The words came out clipped and sharp, edged with impatience.

“He destroyed school property; your family now owes the school four hundred dollars for a broken computer.”

Dad took an exasperated breath. “Of course he did. I’m guessing I have to pick him up again?”

“You know the drill.” 

After Mrs. Johnson finished the call, she turned to sneer at me. “In addition, you will be assigned one week of suspension.” 

I waited in Mrs. Johnson’s office and saw Dad walk up to the school from the parking lot.

“Let’s go.” He said.

I followed, my footsteps dragging.

I climbed into the car, throwing my backpack into the back seat. We sat in silence filled with irritation as Dad waited for me to explain.

I clenched my fists, refusing to talk.

After about five minutes of silence, he rolled his eyes. “So am I supposed to drop you off at the house and let you destroy that, too?”

I closed my eyes, practicing what my therapist told me. Deep breath in, and out.

“Just drop me off at home,” I said, grinding my teeth.

We drove the rest of the way in silence, and as soon as Dad pulled up in the driveway, he turned to look at me.

“I need to get back to work. You are to go straight into the house and prep for dinner. When I get home, I need to be able to cook dinner. Mom is resting right now. Under no circumstances will you bother her. Understand?”

I clenched my teeth and nodded.

I got out of the car, dragging my backpack behind me. I entered the silent house, trudging to my room. I dropped my backpack on the floor and picked up my controller, logging onto Fortnite. Unfortunately, no one was on because of school. 

After thirty minutes of my avatar just running around aimlessly, I logged off and decided to take on my mountain of homework.

I worked until I heard Dad come home. Oh shoot, I forgot to set up for dinner.

I sprinted into the kitchen, throwing ingredients on the counter as Dad walked in.

He let out a sharp breath. “Did I not tell you to prep for dinner?”

I crossed my arms. “You did. And I prepped.”

He gestured to the haphazard pile of ingredients. “You call this prepped? This is a complete mess. Is this what they teach you in school? This level of chaos?”

I opened my mouth to argue as Mom walked out of her bedroom.

Her blonde wig was crooked, and her steps were frail. Dad immediately went to help her to the couch. 

“Hey, Mom.”

She gave me a tired smile. “Hi, Christopher.” Her arms were thin and shaky as she reached for her book. 

Once Dad was sure Mom was okay, he came back to the kitchen. “Go chop the carrots while I make dinner.”

I rolled my eyes and went to grab the knife and cutting board.

Thirty minutes later, the kitchen was clean, and dinner was burnt. Again. As I opened the windows to fan out the smell, Dad ordered pizza for us. I heated some soup for Mom. It was the only thing she would eat these days.

We ate dinner in silence, with Mom occasionally chattering about the new book she was reading.

After dinner, I was drying the dishes while Dad washed them. (Apparently, I don’t wash the dishes correctly.) 

“Christopher, after you’re done with the dishes, come outside to the hammock with me. We haven’t gone stargazing in a while.” Mom said.

“But-” Dad started to argue.

 “Ryan,” Mom’s voice was gentle but firm. “ I can handle going out in my own backyard.” 

After Dad inspected each dish for the slightest trace of moisture, I walked outside with Mom, leading her to the hammock.

Once she was comfortable, I climbed into it too and looked at the twinkling stars.

“Look, there’s the Big Dipper!” Mom said, pointing out the constellation. I already had all of the constellations memorized by heart, but I still enjoyed Mom pointing them out, as if they were the most amazing things ever.

“Do you know how many stars are in the Big Dipper?” She asked, wide-eyed.

I smiled. “Seven.”

We gazed in silence until Mom asked. “Do you wanna go to Garden of the Gods tomorrow night?”

I turned to stare at her. “Will Dad let you?”

She shrugged. “Probably not. But he’s such a worrywart.”

“You know it’s to keep you safe.”

“Yeah, but what’s the point of living if I can’t do anything fun?” 

I stayed quiet. What was the point of living if you couldn’t do anything fun?

I sat up. “Come on, Dad’s going to get worried.”

She sat up too. “Do you want me to ask Dad to drop us off at Garden of the Gods?”

I smiled, knowing the chances were slim. “Sure.”

She smiled too. “Okay.”

We walked inside, where Dad was watching the baseball game on TV.

He turned to us when we walked in, standing up to help Mom to the couch.

“Christopher, go get ready for bed.” He instructed.

“But I don’t have school tomorrow!” I said.

He glared at me. “That’s not a good thing. Go get ready for bed.”

I sighed and walked into my room, collapsing into my bed and falling asleep immediately, not even bothering to change.

Next morning, at a much too early time to be up, I slightly heard my dad’s voice go up an octave. I rolled over, half-asleep.

“What happens if you have a seizure and I’m not there to help you?” he said, sounding worried.

“Christopher can take care of me,” Mom argued.

I heard Dad deflate. He breathed a sigh. “Fine.”

Mom whooped. “Thanks, honey!”

I smiled and drifted back to sleep.

___***___***___

“Wake up, sunshine!” Mom chirped.

I groaned. “What’s going on?”

“I just asked your Dad if we can go stargazing, and after debating about it, he’s letting us!”

Suddenly, I was wide awake. A huge grin broke out across my face, and I hugged Mom.

The next day dragged on as I waited for the stars to come out. When they finally did, Dad dropped me and Mom off at Garden of the Gods.

I set up the picnic blanket and helped Mom get down on her back. Once she was situated, I lay down and gazed up at the beautiful stars and the galaxy.

Suddenly, Mom started to jerk violently. I sat up immediately. Mom was having another seizure.

I moved everything away from her and put her on her side, the way Dad showed me.

Grabbing my phone, I dialed Dad, who picked up almost immediately. 

“What’s wrong? What happened?” he asked, his words laced with worry.

I burst into tears. “Mom’s having a seizure.”

Dad swore under his breath and said. “Alright, I’ll be there in two minutes.”

He showed up just as Mom woke up. She looked around, and when she saw Dad, she began to cry.

I had never seen Mom cry; she was always strong for me, keeping it together, even after her surgery, after the doctors said the chances of her surviving brain cancer were low.

Dad hugged her as she sobbed into him. I didn’t know what to do; nothing could have prepared me for this.

Dad took her into the car and beckoned for me to come.

“Can I stay here for a couple more hours?” I asked.

He nodded curtly as he drove away.

I lay back down, replaying what happened in my mind over and over again. It had been nearly a month since Mom had had a seizure. Dad and I let our guards down.

I stared at the stars. “Why?” I thought. “Why her? What did she do to deserve brain cancer? To deserve all of the suffering?”

I cried some more. I wished it were all some dream, a really bad dream that I could wake up from and know that Mom was fine.

I walked home slowly, my eyes puffy from crying.

___***___***___

The rest of the week passed slowly and dully, but it was definitely better than school. 

Finally, on Monday, at 7:30 in the morning, I was back in school. Mr. Thompson gave me a new computer when I entered the classroom.

I dragged my feet as I walked to my seat, somewhat wishing I were still on suspension.

The bell rang as a girl flew into the classroom.

She had straight, jet-black hair and sparkling blue eyes. She was wearing a black backpack and a silver starry ear cuff.

“I made it!” She cheered before noticing the class.

Mr. Thompson pinched his brow. “Ms. Wong, please refrain from running on our campus.”

The girl shrugged apologetically.

“Can you introduce yourself?” Mr. Thompson asked impatiently.

She stood at the front of the class and said. “My name is Jasmine Wong. I’m from San Francisco and I love painting.”

“Why do you have that ear cuff?” Maya asked sweetly. I almost vomited inside my mouth.

Jasmine shrugged. “I love the stars. Back in Chicago, I could never see them, but when I did, they were so magical.”

“Very nice, please sit down, Jasmine.”

Jasmine skipped to her seat before sitting down.

“Today we’re talking about poetry.” Mr. Thompson drawled.

I slumped in my seat. I hated poetry. 

After sleeping through the class, lunch finally came.

I sat down at my usual table, pulling my hood up and putting my head down. I never ate lunch, and I was never hungry. 

I felt someone sit down next to me, and I raised my head to look at them in confusion. They must have sat down at the wrong table.

It was Jasmine. “Hi,” I said awkwardly.

“Hi, Christopher, right?”

I nodded.

She opened her mouth to say something else when Maya called out. “Oh, Jasmine, you don’t want to sit with him. Here, I saved a seat right next to me; you can sit there instead.”

Jasmine looked her dead in the eyes, smiling. “I’m good, Maya, thanks anyway!”

Maya looked like she had just been smacked. No one told Maya no. Jasmine sure had some nerve.

She turned back to me. “Anyways, what are you eating for lunch?”

I shrugged uncomfortably. “I don’t usually eat lunch.”

She nodded. “I’m eating pho.”

I frowned. “What?”

“Pho, it’s like soup noodles.”

I nodded.

We sat in silence when I suddenly blurted. “Do you like the stars?” My face turned red. Out of all the things I could’ve said, I said that?

She smiled. “I love the stars. Back in Chicago, there was so much light pollution that I could rarely see them. But when I could, they were beautiful.”

“Where did you get your ear-thingy?”

She laughed. “I got my ear-thingy from my mom. She passed when I was three, she told my dad to give it to me when I was thirteen.”

“It’s beautiful.”

She grinned, lighting up her whole face.

The lunch bell rang and I jumped, startled. Lunch was over; it had never passed so quickly.

Jasmine scribbled something on a paper. She handed it to me. “Text me.”

I nodded.

I  worked through the rest of the day, dazed. Did Jasmine seriously give me her number? Why? 

Sitting on the bus heading home, I typed the number into my phone. After a moment’s hesitation, I sent.

Hi, This is Christopher

I saw the bubbles appear. She was texting back!

Hey, Christopher! Whatcha doing?

Nothin, u?

Taking care of Queenie.

Who?

Queenie, my pet sugar glider.

Ooo cool, send pics pls!

Maybe later, I gtg.

My stomach dropped. Did I text something stupid? 

Kk, talk to u later.

Byeee!

Bye!

The bus hissed to a stop, and I climbed out, walking home.

The house was unusually quiet. Dad’s car was missing, which was strange. Usually, he’s home by now.

My eyes scanned the room, landing on a sticky note on the fridge.

Your mother’s seizures getting worse; five today. Took her to UCH Hospital, back by seven. Prep dinner and get your homework done.

-Dad

I struggled to breathe. It was fine; Mom was probably fine. This time, I set up dinner beforehand so I wouldn’t forget. I decided to work in the living room inside my bedroom, enjoying the rare pleasure of having the whole house to myself.

After two hours, I had all of my homework done. I checked the time, 6:53. Mom and Dad should be getting back soon.

I turned on the TV and watched the NBA game that was playing.

___***___***___

I woke up to my phone ringing. I looked around as everything came rushing back. When I looked down, it was Dad calling.

“Where are you?” I asked.

“We’re still at the hospital; your mom’s brain cancer is getting worse.”

Shoot. Shoot, shoot, shoot.

“Are you guys going to spend the night?” I asked while checking the time. It said 12:09 a.m.

“Yeah, your mom wanted me to call to make sure you knew. I’m not sure when we’ll be back. I’ve been asking Nana and Pops to see if they can pick you up, but they’re still in Europe. They don’t come back for a few days. I’m going to come pick you up after school tomorrow so you can see her.”

“Okay, so just get ready tomorrow and go to school?” 

“Yep, see you then.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

I hung up, feeling numb. Mom was getting worse. After that, I couldn’t sleep, so I went outside and lay in the hammock, waiting for the peaceful rocking to calm me. 

___***___***___

The next morning, I woke up to sunshine streaming in my face. Wait, why was there sunshine? Oh shoot, I slept in!

I sprinted inside, checking the time as I threw on my school clothes. It was 9:48! School started two hours ago!

I quickly brushed my teeth and grabbed my backpack, stuffing homework inside. I flew out of the house and was halfway down the driveway when I realized I had forgotten to lock the door. I ran back, locked the door, and ran to the bus stop.

Right, there was no bus, because school started two hours ago!

Sighing, I began to walk. I put the school’s address into Google Maps. It would take forty-five minutes to walk there. Well, since I was late already, why not just go to the hospital?

I typed in the hospital address. It was twenty minutes away walking, except it was in the opposite direction from the school.

Shrugging, I decided to walk to the hospital. Dad would already be mad at me for being late to school; what was a little more?

I began walking, and in ten minutes, I was covered in sweat and panting. I hated the heat; it felt like I was literally melting.

Five minutes later, I stopped at the library to get some cold air. I sat down and checked my phone. Jasmine had texted me.

Where r u?

I bit my lip. Should I tell her the truth? I had only known her for a day.

I typed back. 

I’m at the dentist’s office.

U going to come to school after?

Prob not

Kk

Soon, I reached the hospital, I entered and walked up to the front desk.

“Is there an Annabeth Anderson here?” I asked.

The woman frowned. “Why aren’t you in school?”

I ignored her question. “Is there an Annabeth Anderson here?”

“Do you have a parent with you?”

“Can I please have the room number?”

The woman shook her head as my Dad came out of the elevator. He looked surprised.

“Christopher? What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to see Mom.”

He frowned. “You should be at school right now.”

“I need to see Mom,” I said, annoyance racing through me.

He sighed. “Okay, sure.”

He beckoned for me to follow, and we rode the elevator in silence.

I memorized the path to her room, making sure I wouldn’t get lost in a labyrinth of a hospital.

Finally, we approached a door. Dad knocked before entering, and I followed behind him.

Mom was there. She was asleep, but she looked the worst I had ever seen her. She had dark purple circles under her eyes and her wig was missing. She looked so weak and vulnerable, like death could swoop in at any second and take her away from us.

I shuddered. That wouldn’t happen. That couldn’t happen. She would be fine. She would be fine.

I walked to her side as Dad consulted the doctors.

“Hey, Mom.”

I saw her stir, and she blinked blearily awake. “Hey, Christopher.” Her voice held a tired I had never heard before, like she was having a fight, and losing badly.

Dad rushed to her side. “Do you need anything, Ana?”

“Water,” she croaked.

Dad held the cup of water to her lips, and she sipped a little.

“Come on, Ana,” Dad coaxed. “Drink more.”

She shook her head, but then stopped, wincing in pain.

I had to get out of here. It felt as if the walls were closing in on me. “Be right back.” I gasped while sprinting out into the hall.

I hated the hospital. I hated it so much. The smell, all of the sick people.

I sat on the ground and sobbed.

The next day, Dad forced me to go to school. He even drove me there to make sure I didn’t ditch.

Classes dragged on. In Mr. Thompson’s class, we were still doing poetry when Mr. Thompson got a call.

He put his hand over his mouth. What was going on?

He locked eyes with me and tilted his head to the door. I frowned, taking his signal, and walked out of the classroom.

Mr. Thompson came out after me.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

Mr. Thompson chewed his lip. Not a good sign. “Christopher… Your mother…” He started, his voice low.

Oh no. Oh no no no. 

“Your mother, well, she… She passed away an hour ago.”

I felt numb. I didn’t realize I had fallen; all I knew was I was on the floor, sobbing. Jasmine, who had been in the bathroom, carefully stepped around me and closed the door softly behind her.

Mr. Thompson swallowed, looking at the ground. “Your father is coming to pick you up early.”

When we walked back in, a heavy silence had fallen over the class. Everyone was staring. Not with curiosity, but with a soft look of pity. Maya even went up and hugged me. All I could think about was that Mom was gone. Gone. I sat in the front office, waiting for Dad to pick me up.

Dad came. His eyes were red & puffy. As soon as I saw him, I broke down in tears. He hugged me, and we both cried.

When we went home, the house was quiet and dreary. Dad immediately shut himself in his room, and I sat on the couch. My brain hadn’t fully processed that I would never see Mom again.

The next few days were a blur. I ignored the texts from Jasmine. The life had drained out of me, and I stopped stargazing,

A week later, I sat in the school library, my hood up. Dad had offered for me to stay home, but I didn’t want to. 

Someone stood next to me, but I ignored them. It was Jasmine. Eventually, she sat down, and we sat in silence. All of a sudden, she handed me a paper. “Meet me there tonight at twelve.”

I glanced at the paper. It was the address for the Garden of the Gods. 

“I can’t,” I said, my voice cracking at the end.

She smiled, her eyes empathetic. “Yes, you can.”

That night, Dad made dinner, and after, I went to bed. I lay in bed for hours until I finally decided to get up. 

Usually, when I couldn’t sleep, I went outside and slept in the hammock, with all of the stars.

Sighing, I checked the time. 11:27.  After debating with myself, I finally decided to go to the Garden of the Gods. 

I wrote a quick note in case Dad got up (he probably wouldn’t) and grabbed my bike. 

I biked in the dark, knowing the way by heart. Finally, I arrived at exactly midnight.

Jasmine was already there, and a picnic blanket was set up. When she saw me, her face lit up. “You came.” She whispered, as if she didn’t want to disturb the stars.

I shrugged listlessly and sat down next to her. Not looking up. Jasmine took my hand and led me to the ground.

“I don’t want to,” I murmured. My voice sounded so small and weak.

“Why?” she asked softly.

I pulled my hand away. “She’s everywhere. I don’t want to.”

“Please?” I looked at Jasmine. Her eyes were pleading.

I sighed. “Fine.” Even though it was one word. It changed everything.

Jasmine smiled as I lay down and looked at the stars. Waiting for the pain, I looked up at the stars. Memories washed over me.

All the memories of stargazing came back, but instead of being painful, reminding me of what I had lost, they were soothing, reminding me of all of the good memories I had with her.

Mom was still here. She was in every star, the memory of her laughter on the breeze. She was still with me. She would always be with me. 

Author’s Notes

This story is inspired by my mother. Last year she went through breast cancer, thankfully it was mild, and after surgery she was fine, but it could have been so much worse. This story represents what could’ve happened, and even though it’s heartbreaking and sad, sometimes it’s reality. It shows how, even though the unbearable happens, hope can always be found. I hope that this story will help at least one person with what they’re going through, to show them that they’re not alone, they will never be alone.