Jack leant against the brick wall, although he was barely noticeable. His black clothes did nothing to help him stand out against the thick blanket of darkness that was night. The silver buckle on each shoe stood out against the night defiantly, as did the stars against the quilted sky. He slid down the wall into a crouched position and placed a cigarette between his lips. One hand ran its fingers through his hair whilst the other slowly fumbled through his pockets, searching for his lighter. He pulled out the silver object, a gift from her, but didn't light up; instead he just stared at it in intently as his fingers gently rubbed against the groves of the detailed design engraved upon it. His mind began to wonder until his hunger for the nicotine became stronger. He lit up and took a long deep pull as the smoke filled his mind and calmed him down. It was a weak attempt to fog his mind, it never did. He leant his head against the cold brick and shivered as the brisk wind continued to blow.
Finishing the cigarette he flicked it aside and began walking, the cigarette continued to burn on into nothingness. He sauntered along in no particular direction, wherever his feet decided to take him, it wasn't like he had anyone to go home to, wherever home was this week. He took another turn down yet another deserted street, the only noise coming from his footsteps as the leather sole of his shoes connected against the hard concrete. He came to some steps and started up them with the help of an old rusted banister. Once near the top he turned and looked around.
He sat down and again pulled out his lighter, yet there was no cigarette present. He squinted at it through the dim glow the street light was giving off. It wasn't much of a source of light, but the designs could almost be picked out against the shiny silver of the lighter. He held it tightly and looked up to the sky, many stars were present tonight. Each individual one stood out like a diamond to him, radiated with beauty. He never used to notice the stars, never mind pay them any kind of attention. It was Claudia who had given him an interest in them. He could remember how she had described them to him one night. She had said that each individual star had no real purpose or importance, but together they make up pictures that decorate the sky. He could never see the pictures she described to him, but he understood all the same. It had been their first night together in Mexico, alone from everyone, even the worry that Hector would come there way. They could finally relax together, as Hector would not be coming home, and so they shared the precious time they had had laid out on the dry, sandy desert like mud staring up into the stars, sharing there dreams. They had talked about everything, but it was her dreamy talk of the stars that had stuck in his mind. He remembered how she had always stared at the stars, she was transfixed by them, and now so was he, hoping to see her face made up in one of their pictures. It never happened.
He could feel the pain of the memory rush back to him, and he subconsciously rubbed his arm. He realised what he was doing, and rolled up the sleeve of his jacket, then underneath that, the one belonging to his shirt. He looked at the long, ugly tattoo that ran the length of his arm. A painful reminder of his time spent in Mexico, but an even more painful reminder of her, and another one of the grave mistakes he continued to make. The stars, he found, were also a reminder of what had happened, but a peaceful one. He sadly wondered if she was now a part of those stars.
*****************************************************************************
Review Please x.