While in the midst of my Heiderich obsession, decided to do a spin on things and put the story in the actual characters POV, and not involving an OC at all. This will mainly be a collection of Alfons' thoughts about certain subjects. Not well structured considering it's a bunch of random one shots. So, enjoy. Reviews are loved.

Chapter 1: Stars

Grasp the stars,

In your sapphire eyes,

My baby boy,

It's no surprise.

You won! You won!

Now come and see,

The prize you've won,

Up hear with me.

~Ms. Heiderich (Don't know her name obviously)

Stars. Something I so eagerly craved to touch, but even knowing I wasn't able to, still groped aimlessly for them. The stars, and the moon, the closest rock and the grand prize. My mother, being the extremely religious woman she was, believed that when I died, I would dance among the brightest of stars.

If so, I'm closer to them than I ever will be again.

But I didn't want them that way. I wanted to actually see them, through human eyes.

And rockets were my only choice.

My mother firmly disagreed. She always thought they were bad for me, not ever considering my dream.

"They'll be the death of you," She murmured on her own death bed.

Shortly after saying her goodbyes, the reaper stole her away from the world. I believe that is the worst possible wound inflicted on the heart; the loss of your one and only mother. I cried heartbroken and painful tears for weeks, forgetting all my responsibilities. During this time, my pallor worsened as did my illness. Only one thing gave me the strength to get up out of bed one morning. A tattered piece of paper with my mother's true last words written on them.

"Never read this until you are on your final limb."

That day I truly believed I was. And so, I unfolded the worn paper, and read the 8 line poem.

"Grasp the stars,

In your sapphire eyes,

My baby boy,

It's no surprise.

You won! You won!

Now come and see,

The prize you've won,

Up here with me."

My injured heart swelled as much as possible, healing itself. But tears still streamed down my paled face. It was like my mother's beautiful face begging me to not give up

"I won't, mom," I whispered.