first&last of stars
(an ariana story)
She is thirteen when she draws her first star.
It is a pretty star, a little crooked on one side, and she accidentally smears the purple ink with her white nightgown (the stains show on the sleeve) but she thinks it looks pretty nice.
She shows it to her mother while she is buckling up Ariana's shoes.
"It's beautiful, Ariana," her mother smiles wearily, but it is a sad smile; she then turns away, walking over to the fireplace to stoke the fire – a job Ariana knows her mother could, and would usually, do by magic. She is simply unable to face her daughter.
(Ariana wonders why.)
xx
She presents it to her brother Abe. He is in the fields, kneeling with the goats.
"Hello, little sister." He beams up at her, shading his brilliant blue eyes from the scorching rays of the sun. She holds the ragged piece of parchment to him. "What's this? A star?" She nods happily. "It's beautiful, Ari, just beautiful."
"Beautiful," she repeats. "It's beautiful."
"Yes, it is," Abe smiles, "Now, why don't you help bring Sandi home? She's got a sore hoof." He hands her the end of the rope, and Ariana obediently leads the little goat back to the barn.
xx
She has tea with Ms. Bathilda Bagshot every Saturday, at four. Ariana thinks Mrs. Bagshot's place is a bit dingy and bat-like, but she obediently goes every weekend, just as her mother says.
"What have you been up to lately, darling?" Mrs. Bagshot puts down her dainty cup of tea. Ariana studies the teacup. It is exquisite – little angels with tiny rosaries on their white gowns (looked like her nightgown, but she didn't say) are holding hands, evidently singing.
She takes out the bit of parchment with the star and passes it to the nice, batty lady. It is beginning to fade to a light lavender colour now.
She listens to Bathilda's praise: "Why, it's beautiful, dear! Your very first?"
Ariana nods. Bathilda beams, "Ah, yes. I remember little Brea's first as well, it was very nice-looking as well, it's pity you never met her."
Ariana listens to the nice old lady drone on and on about her deceased daughter. Before she knew it, she dozes off.
xx
It is Kendra's funeral, and Albus is crying.
Ariana cannot understand why her sweet, saintly mother is being lowered into the ground.
She had pushed forward to touch her mother's pale, pale cheek, and Aberforth had restrained her.
Now she is sitting next to her older brother Al, who is listening to a boring old man talk on and on, and crying.
Ariana knows what tears are. They happen when something bad occurs – when she is tormented by boys, when her daddy disappears, when her cat falls asleep and never gets up again.
It hits her. Maybe that's what happened to her beautiful mother.
From up here, Kendra looks peaceful, elegant. Her hair falls in soft black tendrils about a pale face. Her hands are circling a bouquet of roses – her favourite flower- and she is draped in silk blue dress robes the brothers found in her closet. The lips are slightly curved, as she is trying hard to not smile at a ridiculous joke Abe has cracked, and she looks as if she is closing her eyes and imagining things.
(Ariana wonders what she is imagining now.)
Albus is crying harder. Tears are dripping down his long nose – his auburn bangs are wet now. Ariana sneaks the paper into her hand, and clasps Al's quivering fingers. He feels the parchment tickle his palm, and lifts it of curiosity. Squinting through his tears, he realises that it is a shaky drawing of a star. Suddenly angered, he throws the paper to the ground, and storms out.
Later, Ariana stoops down to pick it up, and goes back to her seat.
The wet grass has stained the parchment to a sickly green.
(If Kendra was here , she could change it back to white)
xx
A month after her mother's death, she displays it to the merry-faced boy who often comes to see Albus. He is at his desk.
She walks up to him, just as he looks up from the many papers on his desk. He nods at her, "Ariana." She offers the bit of parchment to him. He accepts it, holding it out in his open palm, put on his eye-glasses, and squinting profusely at its faint shape. "Why, it's a star, Ariana."
She nods, smiling.
(He understands.)
xx
Ariana stands at the edge of the rivulet, gazing at the sparkling waters and colourful pebbles beneath. Twinkling stars reflects upon the stream – Ariana stares at it for a moment, before realising one is missing.
Carefully, she slips the paper from white nightgown and onto the palm of her hand. Puckering up her lips, she blows – and the paper flutters toward the cool waters of the brook.
(It never does reach there.)
A gust of wind propels it upward, and up into the midnight sky it soars – a colourful green-white scrap of parchment, a lavender star sketched upon it, like an emerald among many crystals on a silk blue cloth.
(She reaches it the next day.)
Merry Christmas, Love:)
and thank you Cuba for beta-ing.
haha, I had to try three times in order to underline "ariana", because I kept pressing the wrong button.. thrice. (and it was the same button) -feels stupid XD-
anyway, as you can see, I'm taking a break from all the Black Christmas Presents :)
Next coming up - Sharkie's Happy Siri XDD
And reviews are highly appreciated, so please do take the time to write a little something:)