wishing for home [Briar]
Oct 6, 2015 20:08:07 GMT -5
Post by arx on Oct 6, 2015 20:08:07 GMT -5
Jequirity Eckhart
in this white wave
Even through a force field the stars are beautiful. I've never been able to figure out what it was about big, flaming masses billions of light years away that makes me look up and stare, but I always have. Looked up. My Moms always encouraged my sisters and I to wish on the ones that fell to Earth. I remember wishing once to know my mother and father, remember how my Moms tried to hide how much it hurt them to hear that --- like they had somehow failed me.
I was 8 then, I didn't know any better. Now I'm 18 and wishing I could hug them one last time. I want to be tucked into bed at night, want to wake up in the morning and cook breakfast with all my sisters. One star. Just one single, falling star and I can wish, wish, wish myself home. My sisters will jump on my bed to get me up and I won't be the least bit irritated. My Moms will demand I leave the house and interact with something other than an instrument and I will gladly hug a stranger.
Just one fucking star falling from the sky and I can wish the Games away.
And then I see it, the streak of light, dashing and fleeting in a split second across the night sky. My chance, my wish! And the fear. How does a girl who doesn't, can't, won't speak wish upon a star? My mouth opens for a moment, as if I could overcome the fear that has crippled me for nearly 3 years in just a split second. But the words, I can't let them come. I can't make the wish.
I'm looking down. I wrap my arms around myself to stop my hands from shaking, sit so I don't fall to my knees. And as the stars continue to sparkle in the sky, all of them falling, all of them begging to be wished on, I'm pressing my eyes to my shirt sleeve and crying.
I'm never going home.
I was 8 then, I didn't know any better. Now I'm 18 and wishing I could hug them one last time. I want to be tucked into bed at night, want to wake up in the morning and cook breakfast with all my sisters. One star. Just one single, falling star and I can wish, wish, wish myself home. My sisters will jump on my bed to get me up and I won't be the least bit irritated. My Moms will demand I leave the house and interact with something other than an instrument and I will gladly hug a stranger.
Just one fucking star falling from the sky and I can wish the Games away.
And then I see it, the streak of light, dashing and fleeting in a split second across the night sky. My chance, my wish! And the fear. How does a girl who doesn't, can't, won't speak wish upon a star? My mouth opens for a moment, as if I could overcome the fear that has crippled me for nearly 3 years in just a split second. But the words, I can't let them come. I can't make the wish.
I'm looking down. I wrap my arms around myself to stop my hands from shaking, sit so I don't fall to my knees. And as the stars continue to sparkle in the sky, all of them falling, all of them begging to be wished on, I'm pressing my eyes to my shirt sleeve and crying.
I'm never going home.
in this silence, i believe
