d2 . aster strauss

She sighs, finger idly flicking to the next page of the book as her mother moves around the kitchen. It was one day before she found herself in an orphanage wondering what her life would amount to. Right here and now, she knows who she is and who she wants to be. Her mother works two jobs during the winter and three in the summer. Scrounging for as much money as she can to pay for Aster’s schooling and all the glorious books she wants to read.

Oh- there’s so many, littering the floor, stacked against every wall in their one-bedroom apartment. Some are covered in dust, but each is worn by hands that treated them with care. No page has been crinkled, nor dog-eared, the covers of her favourites are tearing. They were mended with a few strings of tape, her mother having traded money for food to purchase it. These are her most prized possessions and even when her mother asks if they can sell one here and there she fiercely objects. Fingers already dancing at the edges of each and every one of them fond memories entangled within their very spines.

There’s a tender smile on her mother’s face, delicately hiding the exhaustion that lines the edges of her eyes. To Aster, they’ve always been there, and as time has gone by they’ve simply deepened. She doesn’t notice the way her mother’s skin grows paler; the hint of grey angling under her eyes or the way she seems to grow thinner and thinner until a breeze could knock her over.

No, she’s blinded by the fondness that shines within her mother’s eyes as she stands on a chair reenacting her favourite scene from the book clasped between her fingers. Trapped in a world where the comfort of her home is protection, naive in her inability to see beyond her own desires and needs. There's irony, buried beneath the glint of pride or strength that radiates from her voice. A warm, vibrant contrast to the decay that bleeds from her mother's very being.

Her mother laughs, shooing her to a chair where her plate sits as she serves them dinner. There's a moment as they sit, Aster staring longingly at the book beneath the palm of her hand. She wonders if she can sneak another page in, or if her mother will gently scold her and remind her to be present as they eat together. A finger teases at the edge of the page, and she screws up an eye, spotting the end of the sentence she was up to. The words have barely registered in her mind when her mother cuts in,

"Aster Reed, how many times do I have to-"

"Okay, okay, okay," she says hurriedly. Aster backs away, pushing the book aside before throwing her hands up defensively as Leah Reed shakes her head. She holds her scowl for only a few more seconds before her lips split and her warmth shines through once more. Aster can relax her shoulders, cheeky grin thrown in her mothers direction as she runs a hand through her hair. Her mother had never been anything but encouraging, daring her to play with the words she read. She’s always believed that Aster was so incredibly smart in comparison to her own wits and talents.

Leah had never made it through high school. And soo she had promised herself from the moment she had found out that she was pregnant -her daughter would get everything she could never have. The food before her looks delightful, a vegetable soup that spoke to her tongue as she smells the air around it. By the time dinner is finished the sun has vanished and Aster puts the last plate in the drying rack before heading to the bed she shared with her mother.

The candle by her nightstand flickers faintly in the dark, wax pooling at the base as she peers into the silver-rimmed container. It was almost finished, so she gently blows it out, settling into the musty blankets with a grateful sigh. Her nose aches as she pulls her glasses off, careful not to undo the tape that held them together. The hum of the world around them blooms, not quite so gentle as a lullaby but more welcoming than silence.

When she wakes up the next morning she’s alone.