Fallen Star

Fallen Star

Life is a small speck in the universe. It is a fleeting moment in eternity. Any memory of it is eventually lost. Any mark it leaves behind is wiped away. Nothing you do really matters. This is what Nova heard as she stepped to the edge of the cliff, and looked down at waves crashing against clusters of jagged rock. You’re not unique. You’re not special. You’re not loved. The voice wound itself tightly around her heart and gripped every crevice of her frail mind. She stepped off the cliff. Turning as she fell, she faced the endless sky. Nova plummeted to her death.

~~~

It must be an odd feeling... to die, to know that the being that was ‘you’ has come to an end.

I wouldn’t know. I’m not dead of course. And at this point of the story, even Nova wouldn’t know. She’s not dead either.

Not quite yet.

~~~

Nova fell with her arms outstretched by her sides, until the power of the fall caused her body to curl like a ragdoll flung by a rotten child. Through the cracks of her billowing hair, she watched the sky.

She saw it split.

A great crack appeared in the noon sky. Numbed, Nova simply watched as it grew further than her vision allowed. Smaller cracks branched from it. It spread past the horizon. The sky became a jigsaw. She watched the sky jigsaw as it showered down on her. She watched as each piece disintegrated as they fell. A part of her appreciated the beauty of it, until the darkness hidden behind the sky jigsaw emerged. With startling speed it engulfed everything, and left Nova in a quiet blackness.

Only then did she realise, she was no longer falling.

Here is your death.

She closed her eyes.

***

Nova awoke to a purple tinge. Trees wavering like shadows had grown and dry grass had sprouted under her while she slept. Nova had already decided where she was, and it certainly was not what she had expected. This was the afterlife.

She stared at the trees, as they shifted in unpredictable dances. Hardly any time had passed when a voice broke the hypnotic spell.

“Why are you here?”

Still lying on dry grass, Nova turned her face to the direction of the voice. A small boy cloaked in the same shadowy substance of the trees was crouched a few feet away. A childish face poked out of the shadow-hood.

“I simply died,” was her reply. The grass scratched her cheek uncomfortably.

The boy scowled. “You’re lying! I know you are! If you were dead, then... you wouldn’t even be here!” He took in a breath and did not speak for a while. Once calm, he asked a different question, “How did you get here?”

“Jumped off a cliff.” Her matter-of-fact tone must have unnerved the young boy, as he made a sound similar to a squeak, but more like a hum.

“Why did you do tha-?” His eyes were wide and his mouth hung open after the last word. Nova couldn’t decide if it was childish curiosity or something much more morbid. After receiving no answer from her, he snapped his mouth shut and the scowl returned. “Even if you did, I don’t think you’re dead. Do you remember the exact moment you died?”

Nova recalled falling while the terrible darkness seeped in from beyond the sky-jigsaw.

“No. Not exactly.”

“I don’t know about you, but I’d say your death is a pretty important life event. How could you forget?”

Nova wrinkled her brow in annoyance. Her head was starting to hurt. Pain in the afterlife? That. Sucks. “What about you? Do you remember when you died?”

“I’m not dead!” he looked horrified, but crawled closer to Nova anyway. The grass crunched under his palms and knees. “But... I know exactly how to check if you are.”

She sat up and clutched her head with both hands. The world seemed to move beneath her as she did so, adding nausea to her discomfort. She laid down one hand to steady herself. Before she could ask the boy what he meant, he leaped forward and stabbed her hand, pinning it to the ground. Nova’s scream rang through the shadow trees. They shook. As she screamed, the boy twisted the knife, twice, into her hand. Blood poured onto the dry grass. She begged, and he pulled out the knife.

Clutching her bleeding hand, she stared disbelievingly at the young boy with a blood-soaked knife in his hand.

“Are you alright?” he asked as though she had merely tripped over. His face held gentle concern. “Do you feel... light-headed? Woozy?”

She did.

She did not admit it.

Blood meandered down her wrist.

Pretty.

The boy still nodded knowingly. “That means you need blood, which proves that you’re alive. I was right!” He smiled triumphantly, showing a whole set of milky baby teeth. “Now let me see that cut.”

“No! You... you just...!” As she made half verbalised protests she kicked the ground with her feet, making her slide away from the child. He stood, walked and kneeled down beside her.

“I can fix it! Promise it won’t hurt!” He grinned in an attempt to be comforting. The boy tore a piece of his shadow cloak. It made no sound as he did so. Then he wrapped it around her hand. Nova shuddered against the cold material, but the pain was all gone. The boy smiled for a few moments, waiting. When nothing happened, he rolled his eyes and muttered, “You’re welcome.”

Nova inspected her strangely bandaged hand. It moved slowly, like the trees did. The realisation that she was still alive slowly sank in. She didn’t know how to feel. You feel nothing. The bandage danced in circles around her hand. She watched.

“No offence...” he broke the hypnotic spell again “... but you don’t belong here, you know. I think I better show you the way out.”

She nodded a silent agreement. They both arose and walked through a forest of shadow trees, crunching the dry grass beneath them. Neither of them noticed there was no pool of blood behind them. Where the blood should have fallen, a small healthy patch of red grass swayed in non-existent wind.

~~~

What a nice young boy I was. Don’t you think?

...

Oh come on. I didn’t kill her or anything. I helped! How many children stop to escort an outsider to their destination? And a raving mad one at that! I bet you never did that when you were so young, and even if you say you do, I’ll be convinced you’re lying!

Also, wipe that judgemental look from your eyes. We haven’t even reached the good bit yet!

~~~

During their walk through the woods, the child introduced himself as Vice. He did not explain where they were, just that it was his home. And he did not tell her how she got there, simply because he did not know.

Nova took the surroundings in, while at the same time... not believing. It was just a dream to her. She felt no pain in her once bleeding hand, and she wondered if the pain ever existed. Maybe her mind played tricks on her. Maybe she’s in a coma. Maybe this. Maybe that. She told herself many explanations. They had not walked long when Vice stopped and gestured to a small cottage in front of them, of which Nova somehow failed to notice.

“That’s the way out.”

She looked at Vice. “The way... out?”

“Yep. Go on then.” He made ‘shooing’ actions with his hands impatiently.

“But, that looks like a way in... rather than a way... out.”

“Are you calling me a liar?!” he sounded so insulted that Nova had to suppress signs of her amusement. “If I say the way out is in there, then that is the truth!” He placed his hands on the small of her back and gently pushed her forward, encouraging her to walk to the cottage door. “You must talk to The Great Hobblesire, and they will let you out!”

“The Great-”

“HOBBLESIRE. Yes.” He rapped his knuckles on the wooden door.

Immediately the door was opened and a young gentleman stepped out. Wisps of pale blue hair flowed from under his purple top hat, passed his shoulders. He brought his face close to Nova’s who stood motionless, eyes glued to the hat.

“And what would you call this, Sire?” The Hobblesire narrowed his eyes at Nova. “Well Hobble, I believe it is a fallen star. Sire, I think it’s a human. Don’t be ridiculous Hobble! Humans don’t have fingers, you’re confused again... now hush, or I’ll pull our teeth out!” He cringed at his words. “Sorry Sire, it is quite obviously a fallen star.”

Nova giggled. She liked him. Them.

Vice cleared his throat. Gesturing dramatically with his arms, he addressed the Hobblesire. “Oh great and mighty Hobblesire, this fallen star seeks your help. She has lost her way and seeks to exit your... magnificent... domain.”

“It is quite magnificent. So why does the star want to leave? I think she’s homesick, Sire. Is that so?”

Nova nodded.

The Hobblesire stroked his long imaginary beard. “Hmmm. I expect homesickness to be quite a deadly affliction. I say, Hobble, do we still have that thingy? What ‘thingy’, Sire? The Thingy! You know, the thingy the cat in the suit dropped off last month. Yes, Sire, I believe we have the two.” He stormed into the cottage and closed the door behind him.

“What a great man,” Vice sighed.

“Is he-” Nova’s question was cut short by the sound of the door swinging open again.

“We found them!” The Hobblesire proudly outstretched both hands. In each hand was a bullet. “Go ahead.”

Nova inspected one bullet and then the other. “What do I do with them?”

“Them? No star, you can only eat one. Quite right, Sire.”

“Eat?!”

“Yes! Swallow one!” The Hobblesire smiled happily. “But choose the right one mind you. One gives you a wish, and the other gives you death.”

You wish for death. Win, win.

She looked closer at the two bullets. “They’re identical!”

Vice stood on his toes and looked at the two bullets. He picked the one from the Hobblesire’s right hand and turned it in his hand. “Take this one, it has a ‘w’ engraved on the bottom, see?” He showed her. There was indeed a curvy ‘w’. “It must mean ‘wish’.”

Nova nodded and took the bullet. She traced the ‘w’ with her eyes. She placed the bullet in her mouth. The taste of cold metal was not unpleasant.

“Just wish as you swallow,” prompted Vice.

For death.

She swallowed the bullet, but she did not make a wish. I win.

There was a bang. Her head detached itself from the rip in the neck as her body fell.

“I win!” exclaimed the young Vice. He jumped over the two pieces of Nova’s body in a single bound and took the second bullet. “Look! This one also has a ‘w’ on the other side... or an ‘m’. Hee.” He skipped away.

The Great Hobblesire looked at the burnt out star in front of his cottage. “What a waste, poor star. Sire, do we know that young boy? No, he’s not from around here. Ah, I thought so.”

~~~

Heehee. That was fun.

...

Oh you didn’t want the story to end like that? And why is that? Don’t you think I should win the game? Too bad, I’m Vice.

And don’t you go muttering things about me.
Say it to my face.

That’s right. You heard it.

I said, “Jump off a cliff.”