Stars

Sometimes when I look at the stars, I couldn't help but create stories, you know?

Stars are beautiful. Stars shimmer and shine. Star gazing is one of my favorite things to do when I want some alone time. Getting alone time is kinda of a luxury, you know, after everything that's happened up until now.

"What I am I thinking?" As I say to myself, to no one. "Okay," I say aloud. "I'm not crazy. I know that."

Do I?

Leaning back, I placed my hands behind my head and continue to watch the twinkling stars. My gaze shifts over to the right and lock onto a cluster of them. Thinking about people and scenarios I want to put them in, I begin to connect the dots between stars.

I point to the group of stars. "Ha," I say. "Prowl's got socked in the jaw again!"

Shifting my gaze over to the left, this time, I focus on a group of scattered stars and like I did before, I began connecting the dots but only this time, with my finger. I started drawing, sliding my finger from one star to another like would a human child do in their coloring book.

Drawing a curve, I lift up my finger then resume connecting the dots. My finger madly rushed back and forth as if I'm scribbling but I'm not; I'm coloring in the Lost Light's fuel quills. Heh, they're strange.

"This is the Lost Light," I say again. "We are on a mission to find the famous Knights of Cybertron and..."

Then what? I dropped my arm to my side and watched what I've drawn remain stationary in space, figuratively and literally speaking. With a bit of imagination, I saw the massive spaceship soar through endless space, traversing through asteroid storms, or outmaneuvering attacks from the Galactic Council. Within seconds, the Lost Light stumbled on a swirling body of light and in the middle of it, was a planet, I would think.

This depresses me.

I turn my head to the right again and look at the stars.

"What difference does it make when..." Can I say it? "When... I'm alone?"

I sit upright and shake my head. I allow my hands to move into my lap and within seconds, my bright orange gaze fell on the tips of my fingers. I have a bad habit of looking at my fingers when things go awry. It seems to be my way out. It takes one courageous move and-

No, don't do it.

That's what I'd want to hear, I think. I turn to the left and saw Rewind.

Don't do it, Domey. Don't.

Of course, I won't. Within seconds, Rewind disappeared right before my eyes, again. Again, I was too late to reach out, to hold him, to protect him, to tell him that...

"I love you."

I curled into a ball and dipped my head in silence.

"I'm so sorry," I say to the stars, all scared and alone. "I'm so sorry."

Sometimes, I don't like watching stars since the stories I create are the ones that kill me inside.