Written in the Stars of Heaven

Melani- Age 8

The promised knock on the door of our grimy trailer sounded, rousing me from my light sleep on the floor; tonight was Kendyll’s night on the couch. Rolling my eyes, I stomped over to open it. I didn’t see why this woman couldn’t just come in. She was here enough, so I shouldn’t have to run to the door every time she returned.

“What do you want?” I snapped, taking in Linda’s ragged appearance in the dim light of the porch. Her auburn hair was greasy and unbrushed, sticking out at odd ends, and there were deep brown bags under bloodshot eyes. Her frain little body was bruised and there were these strange scars along her arms. My young mind didn’t process what that picture meant, but I quickly realized it as I got older.

“Your dad and I are supposed to hang out,” she giggled, pushing passed me and heading straight for his ‘cave’.

“You and Dad always hang out. Can’t you just, like, leave him alone for five minutes?”

“We have important business to conduct. Then a celebration,” she retorted, stumbling over the blanket I’d left on the floor.

“What’s there to celebrate? You’re here,” I muttered under my breath. I’d have said it to her face, but last time I was blatantly rude, Dad had slapped me. Not an experience I’d like to repeat, so instead I moped over to my sleeping area to go back to bed. Kendyll and I had school in the morning.

The vision fast-forwarded a couple weeks, to a scene where Kendyll and I were lounged on the couch, doing homework.

“This is so dumb! Why do teachers even give us homework?” I moaned.

“To help us learn,” my twin said, mocking the teacher’s earlier words in a high pitched tone.

“So they say. Really, I think it’s torture.”

Before Kendyll could respond, my dad’s door flung open and Linda huffed out, wearing only one of his very large tshirts, eyeliner smudged and hair a mess.

“No Dennis! I’m tired of you smacking me around! Hope your other dealer’s as friendly as I was!” she screeched, storming out of the trailer.

“Linda, get your ass back here! You’ll go when I tell you to!” he hollered, stopping in the middle of the room we were in.

He scrunched his eyes together, pressing a large hand to his forehead. I wanted to make him feel better, to smile. To be like he was before Mom died, but I could tell now wasn’t the time.

Kendyll, apparently, had the same idea. Without rationally thinking it over, he jumped up and hesitantly approached him.

“Dad, she’ll be back. She’s just ma-”

He was cut off by a backhand to the side of the head, sending him sprawling onto the carpet.

“Don’t speak to me unless I address you boy! It would do you well to learn your place,” our father sneered, glaring daggers.

I was appalled at his behavior and horrified that he’d hit my brother so hard. Sure, he knocked us around every now and then, but nevr like this. Never enough to seriously hurt us.

“Dad!” I shouted, rushing to Kendyll’s side, all logical thinking gone. “How could you?”

“Shut up Melani, or you’ll be next!”

“You wouldn’t dare,” I challenged, stealing the phrase the lunch lady had said to me earlier in the day when I threatened to fling beans in her face if she didn’t give me the biggest brownie.

He said nothing else, stomping over and kicking me hard in the ribs. I fell backwards, smacking my head on the wooden leg of the couch, seeing little stars floating in front of me.

“I would dare,” Dad scowled, retreating back to his room, but not before adding, “Tell anyone and I’ll make this look like a day at the park.”

Rubbing my head, I sat up again, fighting back tears. My chest hurt so bad, but it wasn’t anything compared to the knowledge that my own father wasn’t above abuse.

“Mel, what was that?” Kendyll hissed, crawling over to me and drawing me into a hug, despite his tone. :Why;d you make him do that?”

“I didn’t make him do anything. He did it himself,” I said, pushing my twin off.

“Yeah, but you could have left it alone. I can take it.”

“Maybe, but he shouldn’t have hit you.”

“I know.” His heartach over the situation must have just sunk in. “I can’t believe he hurt you…”

“Not only me,” I told him firmly. “Us. We are in it together now. Just the two of us. Forever. Alright?”

Looking up into my eyes, I could see that he needed to hear that. He wouldn’t ever admit that his younger twin was the strength for a few minutes, but he still nodded. “Right. The two of us.”

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Meani- Age 17

“Can you hear me?” I was asked as I became aware of gentle jostling, but not feeling it. The numbness had yet to disappear.

“Yeah. It’s over. Thank God,” I replied, barely above a whisper. My least favorite part of this whole ordeal was the few minutes after a vision. I hated the nothingness of those moments even more than the murderous pain before.

“Are… you’re not alright, are you?” Nikolai inquired, voice as soft as mine.

“Why do you say that?”

“Theres- Um, you’re crying. Well, not crying, but there are tears…” It sounded like he’d rather be anywhere but here, dealing with an unstable, vision-ridden chick.

“Oh. That. Yeah, it’s just because of the headache. Natural reaction, you know?” I was lying and he knew it, but neather of us wanted to talk about the real reason tears were falling from my presumably open eyes. Yeah, still couldn’t see yet either. Isn’t my life just a boquet of flowers.

He didn’t reply, carrying on in silence.

“Where’s my bag? And yours? Isn’t it too heavy carrying me and that thing?” I asked, when the silence was too much for me.

“Reyleigh took Avan’s so he could carry mine. Reyleigh has yours too.”

“Ah. You can probably set me down now. I don’t want anyone to be burdened,” I said, unsure if I even could stand by myself.

“Not a chance,” he responded matter-of-factly.

“Why not? I can do it,” I protested, trying to but unable to wiggle away. Hell, I couldn’t even move, so I should have been grateful.

“Well, for one, you still can’t see an-”

“How do you know that?”

“Your eyes. They’re unfocused. You aren’t seeing any of this. And you can’t move either. If you could, you would have fought to make me let you go.”

Wow. I knew we already understood each other better than most, five days in conditions such as these forge quicker and deeper bonds, but he didn’t have to use it against me like that. Just because I felt like I’d known him all my life didn’t mean he had to make those same connections with me… Not that I truly disapproved. Or disapproved at all. Hey, a girl’s gotta have something to complain about.

“Fine fine. Continue the ride. It’s more comfortable up here anyway,” I replied, jokingly.

“Lucky bitch!” Reyleigh laughed from behind us. “I wish I had a personal slave boy!”

“You want the visions? We can trade! You take Boris here and the visions, and I will walk! It sounds perfect to me!”

“Eh… those visions sound like a bit of a deal breaker. I saw the look on your face before you went out. The glowing’s pretty cool though.”

“You’d make a crappy night-lite though,” Avan teased.

“How could you? You just shattered all my hopes and dreams!” I cried in a fake, over the top manner. “All those wasted hours spent imagining my lighting up a room with my eyes!”

“I’d light up your life anytime, baby,” Blaze couldn’t help but throw in.

“Oh shut it,” Leona sighed, for once lacking the snobby, ‘I’m better than you’ note. “Can’t you see that she’ll never be yours Blazey Boy?”

“A man can dream…” he grinned, holding his hand to his heart. No need pointing out that he wasn’t a man, more of a blood-sucking monster. Whatever. At least he hadn’t gone for my throat yet. And that made me wonder why Leona hadn’t either.

“Hey Boris? Reapers are basically vamps, right? Different, but the same principle?”

“You can say that. Of course, they’re souls-”

“Yeah, yeah, I got that. Then why haven’t your troops gone after me?” I asked, quiet enough that Nikolai wouldn’t have been able to hear me if it weren’t for his enhanced senses.

“My troops?” he repeated, amusement in his voice. My eyes were starting to work again too, though everything was dim, so I could see a hint of a grin on those full lips.

“Just answer the question. Why haven’t the gone for me yet?”

“We are delivering you to the King. Not eating you,” he said, serious again.

“I know that, but don’t they usually drink at least a little from their captives? That seems normal for Reapers.” Finally, I could completely see again!

“Usually.”

“What’s different this time? Aside from the ‘Chosen One’ thing?” I inquired, clentching my hands together, getting most of my mobility back also.

“I told them not to touch you.”

“Why? There’s not like some special decree saying I can’t be bitten, is there?”

“No,” he replied uneasily.

“Then what is it? Why haven’t I been a snack at all?”

“Because I didn’t want them tainting you. Are you happy?” he mumbled very quickly, as if he was uncomfortable saying it.

“Tainting me? What’s that?”

“Nothing magical. You’re just so full of life, I didn’t want them to take any of it. You never get that liveliness back after a feeding, and I couldn’t bare you changing.”

I could tell he hadn’t wanted to tell me that ever, but I was glad he did. The revelation that he did care about me to some extent made my heart swell a little. Juvenile, I know. But it was nice to hear.

“I wouldn’t let them eat you either,” I replied lamely.

He flashed me a crooked smile before falling back into an easy silence. One that I didn’t feel the need to fill with mindless chatter.