a wish upon falling stars

Sam lounges on the sofa while food warms up in the microwave. He scrolls through his feed, skimming past the headlines. It’s all the same: rising tensions, changing policies, the funneling of money into the military. It’s been going on for months now. Initially, the cusp of a war plagued the public with a paranoia but now it’s become a hum in the background, a buzzing insect. Currently it’s a back and forth of peace treaties and passive-aggressive trade agreements. He couldn’t care less about it. 

 

His attention moves onwards, caught by an advertisement. It promotes a deal on jewelry for Mother’s Day, and he groans at the sparkling diamonds and zircons. It reminds him of the upcoming family dinner. He had been dreading it. The last get-together had not gone well, having broken down in an argument over the funeral payments. Having moved out for college, Sam advocated that he couldn’t afford both rent and the funeral fees whilst taking on a full-time load of study. But Olivia argued their shared responsibility over their father, of her taking over as a carer for their mother since her stroke, the need for support after the costs of medicine and new living adjustments. They haven’t spoken much since, their lives taken by their responsibilities. Nevertheless, he is expected to bring something to the next gathering, but he puts off the thought for now and continues scrolling.

 

Then, through the window, a blinding light devours the world.

 

He cannot tell if his eyes are open or closed, but he feels his body fall to the floor. On fours, he claws into the carpet for his vision to return, but is assaulted by a deafening gunshot followed by a silence. The television, once playing an ad jingle, becomes fuzzy static. He freezes when a rumble comes, reverberating through his bones, and when his vision returns, he is greeted back to the world with blaring air sirens and a recorded message repeating,

 

SEEK SHELTER IMMEDIATELY.

 

He runs to the window. The dark grey mushroom cloud in the horizon chills him. Sam scoops up the phone from the floor. Unresponsive. He turns it on, impatiently waiting for it to boot up. It’s dead in his hands. He swears under his breath, as panic floods his thoughts. 

 

A thunder of footsteps rolls past the walls of his apartment. Doors slamming open and shut, voices shouting and sobbing. Then, silence. He follows them to his front door, peeking through the viewer. He hopes to catch a glimpse of where his neighbours are heading off to, but he only sees his empty frontage. He knows not where to go, if he should follow, but he knows he must go somewhere and there is only one place he must be.

 

Sam pulls on a large puffer jacket and roughly shoves his feet into his sneakers. He stumbles on the way out, fumbling for the keys as he rushes down the stairwell. Thumping in his heart and his footfalls, he throws himself into the driver's seat without pulling on the seatbelt. He didn’t think he’d be thankful for moving out only to the next suburb over.

 

He speeds down the street, driving over curbs and winding past intersections. The static hum of the radio accompanies his thoughts of the last family reunion. It was all so pointless. He had been a fool. In the attempt to escape from them, it’s the only thing he can return to.

 

Another explosion occurs. From the flashing light, he almost crashes into another person but he manages to swerve onto the opposite side of the road. He barely registers what happened as he wills for vision to return to him. He ignores how the tyres rumble under him, how he feels a force past the windows. Instead, he grounds his foot into the pedal. His hands sweat on the steering wheel but he dares not to wipe his palms on his pants for fear he will lose control. 

 

Haphazardly pulling into their driveway, he finds that the front door is wide open. The car is still parked in the garage. Sam sprints inside, frantic. Where? Where did they go? What happened to them? Their television runs static, his phone unresponsive. He runs into all the rooms of the house and calls out for them, shouting above the roaring sirens. He runs out to their backyard, sprints back to the front, climbs up the stairway, but no one’s home. He is alone.

 

He stands in the once familiar hallway to their bedrooms. He’d argue with Olivia about chores or noise. He finds that everything has been untouched since he left, from the particular wrinkle of his blankets to the telescope pointing out of his window. The photo of him and Luna on his desk is covered in a fine layer of dust, smothering her golden fur under suffocating grey. He looks at the clock above his bed. It’s too late to look for them now. 

 

The room shakes and the window glass breaks. Without thinking, he steps onto the shards. He takes the telescope and runs out of the house. Sam looks back briefly to the house, to home. But home is empty, it’s nothing without his family. He looks around the area and runs off. He escapes to where his heart races to.

 

His stamina isn’t what it used to be but he manages to climb the very top of the hill. It’s the same hill that Luna now lays in, the resting place marked by a grand oak tree. The mushroom cloud—or clouds grow bigger. Tendrils of smoke leer over the sky. He stabs the ground with the tripod and pulls the telescope down to the cloud. He confronts it as it grows, staring into its core, hoping for a glimpse of anything living. But the cloud engulfs all; not even the contours of concrete or the setting sun can penetrate through this smog of death. 

 

Instead, he looks above, and he sees that the stars are shining twice as brightly. 

 

He first finds Jupiter, a planet he spots easily with his naked eyes. It’s a bright point in the sky and he can still find it despite the rising smoke. He points his telescope to it, a faint memory of Dad’s voice instructing him to turn up power. He sees the orange stripes that cover the body, how it suspends itself above nothingness. Invincible and strong. Untouchable. He remembers how happy Dad was when he first found it.

 

A deafening gunshot fills the air before the shockwaves throw him off the telescope. He scrambles back to his feet, dumbfounded. The horizon is engulfed in bright orange, turning black. The rockets are coming closer now. He shivers under his coat, barely able to swallow down his nerves screaming at him to run. On this autumny night, the night is young, the air is fresh, and he is breathing, he is alive while the world splits into two. 

 

Sam pushes his eyes into the viewer, searching further into the night sky. He finds Canis Major and looks at Sirius. It was the first constellation Dad showed him. Sirius was a wishing star, he told Sam, that anything he wishes for will come true. The brighter the star, the bigger the wish it could grant. It was the same star Sam wished upon for a pet dog, for Luna.

 

He was always more interested in planets than stars, searching for Jupiter and Saturn and Mars, and tracking their orbit. But the stars feel like old friends - Sirius and its companions, twinkling softly as another missile crashes down. It blinds him completely, his nerves overwhelmed by the piercing light. The ear-splitting explosion amongst the sirens, Sam braces himself against the wave. The heat radiates and sizzles his skin. Flesh burns. He ignores it all, the overbearing pain, the desire to collapse and let it all take over. He cannot see his white sneakers - now muddy and green. Nor the raw and sickly pink pallor of his skin. He doesn’t realise that the image of the stars comes behind his eyelids.

 

After Luna, he didn’t wish much. But he wishes now. He wants now, he begs now. He wishes for the stars above for another life, another chance. Mankind came from stardust, and stardust made stars, made stardust again. If he were to turn to dust, maybe he could be reborn again. His knuckles grip white on his telescope, his hands clammy against the cool metal as he steadies himself. 

 

If the stardust that made him mixed with the dust that made Dad and Luna, they could be all reborn again as a single star. And with Mum and Olivia. They’d have eternity to talk it over. They’d be together again, to try it all again, to be family again. So he begs at Sirius. He prays at Sirius. Sirius is the brightest star, the only one that can grant this wish. 

 

But the stars only regard him sadly.