Stars Above

The silence was eerie; outside, the sky was dark and gloomy. The clouds painted a sickly grey colour, hung above us; it carried our sorrows high. The sun was hidden behind the clouds, hiding its bright orange face from us for days at a time. It was nearing the winter season; the streets were empty. Children of the neighborhood were either in school or inside their homes, warmth protecting them from the icy cold hair.

I sighed and rested my chin on my crossed arms. I continued to stare out into the lonely street, ignoring the numbness that was beginning to spread throughout my legs from sitting with them tucked underneath me for so long. I rested my full body weight against the window seat in front of me.

Something was going to happen today - something that no one would be fond of, nor were they ever fond of unless you were wishing death upon someone. I just had that gut feeling that from here on, things were going to be different, terribly different.

What was there to do on such a sullen day? Nothing but to sit around and wait for the worse to come.

There was nothing left to do; I've gone around and cleaned the entire house multiple times - just anything to keep me distracted from my worry. When you live in a house alone, there isn't much to clean up, even after several months. I'm not a mother; I'm just a lonely wife. There was no use in going outside and wandering around; it just wasn't safe for a woman to be by herself. I couldn't go to a friend's house, not unless I want to torture myself.

I didn't want to be at a lady friend's house and all of a sudden, awkwardly sit on her couch while her husband comforts her as we receive news and updates on the war. I'd just want to crawl out of there - escape their love-sick atmosphere. I needed the comfort as well, but I had none. When will be the next I'll even get comfort?

I was alone; I had no one. My husband was over in France, battling against Germany and the rest of the Triple Alliance team. It angered me- why the United States joined the war in the first place, making themselves a part of a conflict that isn't any of their business in the first place. They were interfering with a problem that's between two countries, dragging hundreds of people with them. Many will die; they always do.

But what angered me most was why my husband would allow the pressure of his fellow peers, to make him enlist into the army. He was very well aware of what can happen, what will happen, and all the consequences. He had so much potential and so much to live for; he still had the rest of his whole life ahead of him. Why would he want to throw that all away?

He was a charming young man, being only twenty six years of age. He went by the name Matthew Sanders, a friendly face that everyone love the moment they meet him. I've known him ever since we were in our second year of high school; my family and I had just moved in from a populated city, to a smaller, much quiet one. We became best friends ever since, even though males his age were more known to befriend other males and think about committing adultery to another female- like most of the males I've met in my life.

There were only few men that actually value women - other than their bodies.

In the next few seconds, Death entered our neighbourhood; if you listened carefully, the funeral song can be heard. I could see the other women's faces peering out of their windows as well, much like my own. We stared out into the street, our gazes lingering down the road. A small yellow taxi cab crawled into view, as slowly as possible.

You can see the grief and desperation on everyones countenance, all wishing for a miracle that the cab would pass by their house. My heart raced inside my chest, fearing for the worse. It was unfortunate if it stopped in front of your house; it'd be unlucky. Optimistic thoughts are close to impossible at moments like these.

My heart beated faster when the driver cut the vehicle's engine near the front of my house. He got out and walked up the walkway, slowly approaching my wooden front door. I fell backwards, taking in a calm breath and exhaling in order to steady myself; I had seen a white letter in his hands. I can already feel the tears gathering up in the back of my eyes.

I got up, using my best efforts to keep my balance and my knees from locking up. I was already standing in front of the door by the time a knock came on the other side; my hand hesitantly reached for the knob, before turning and slowly pulling it open. I placed a kind smile upon my lips as the man came into view.

"Mrs. Sanders?" he questioned, politeness hanging off in his voice. I nodded. "My apologies," he simply said, handing the white envelope to me. I took it reluctantly and he nodded, bidding me farewell before turning and walking back down the walkway. I shut the door quietly behind him.

I went over to our small and old, raggedy couch. I placed a shaky finger under the white tab, ripping open the military seal. A letter inside was reveal; my heart dropped and began to ache as the tears began to fall endlessly. I wasn't through reading the letter, but my hand fell weak and the letter dropped lightly onto the floor, sliding by my feet. My other hand supported my forehead as I allowed my head to hang, lifelessly, whilst I wept.

It was rumoured that every time a yellow cab showed up in the neighbourhood, there was always bad news that followed it; Death hung around it and poison our little city. Though it was only a rumour that it was every time it come, we all feared for the worse at the slight sight of them. But it wasn't a faux rumour; it was very much true- as true as reality can get.

I remembered that it was only last week that I had last received a letter, personally from Matt himself. I reached over into a drawer that was conveniently placed next to the couch, and pulled out another letter. The paper material was beginning to turn yellow, aging and crinkling.

I re-read the letter to myself.

Elizabeth, my dear darling,

I miss you so much; I cannot even begin to tell you. I have been wanting to come home and see your smiling face for the longest time now; I'm glad to say that the wait will soon be over. I received a leave notice; I'm coming home in a week. I am beyond overjoyed, I can hardly believe it.

It is horrible over here. Every corner I turn, there's someone dying; if they're not dead, then they're crying out in pain, moaning and suffering. I have feared so much that that would be me one day, but luckily enough, God's been on my side through this journey. It is time like these that I wish I was a lady - you don't know how lucky you are. It's a scary thing to be out here, whether you're at the front or away. I haven't gotten many good night sleep. A man have to do everything he can to survive; he must become a lifeless walking corpse and take commands without a single thought if he doesn't want to become one with Mother Earth.

But all of that doesn't matter, now that I know I get to see your beautiful face in less than a week. I will finally be able to hold you in my arms, and spend the rest of our lives together, like how it was supposed to be in the beginning.

I miss you, and I love you dearly, gorgeous.
- Matt S.

I broke into a new set of tears, sobbing heavily into the skirt of my dress as I pulled my legs up on the couch and held them closely to my chest. My cries echoed throughout the small and empty house; a black cloud hung over my shoulders. I felt as though a heavy burden had just dropping itself on my back, and there was nothing I could do to get rid of it.

This was a permanent change- there was nothing that I could do to change it, nothing I could do to bring him back. He was gone forever, his corpse forever lost in the sea of decaying bodies that laid out on No Man's land.

Why couldn't he have just hung on for a few more days? If what a man needs to do in order to survive was to become an animal - a careless, animal - than why couldn't he have stuck through it? Why did he have to die now, of all times, now? It isn't his time to go.

It just wasn't.