Supernova

The stars are still there, even in daylight. It's just that the rays of sun are so bright and overpowering that the stars can't be seen.

When the sun rises, the stars fade ever so slowly, until there's nothing of them but a faint figment of a memory's imagination. And she can't even be sure if the stars really were there, or if she just imagined the ethereal beauty, because once it's passed her by the only thing she knows is that she remembers seeing them but memory doesn't count for much when proof is all that's necessary and proof is impossible to come by because stars, so far away, can't leave any fossils to remind her that they really do exist some number of light-years and eons from this point. And she can barely even see them at all when they do come out because it's too cloudy and besides, she only has a little window and she isn't tall enough to see if they're still out there, winking their damned hope to anyone who bothers to check if the stars still exist.

But she thinks they're still out there, all because she can remember looking up years ago and seeing them, even though she can't even be sure if the flaming masses of elements still burn out there anymore, or even if they ever did. Nothing is certain except the cold and the wet and the crazy and the screams and the memories of the things she's done and even though she doesn't give a damn about them they still remind her of the humanity she had a long, long time ago. She used to be human, once, but humanity is so far gone now and it has been for a while, so no one even remembers that she used to laugh and pick flowers and sleep with a teddy bear and play with dolls like every other little girl. Because she's so far removed from "every other little girl" now that she's completely unrecognizable.

She's a star, she's a star, she's a beautiful bright and shining star, they used to say, she shines and she shines and she shines and she makes the night all the brighter for her glittering bright and beauty.

But the star has changed into something that can't shine anymore, the star has become a broken fragment some light-years and eons from this point, because she exploded in a bright and amazing supernova and took everything down with her, an explosion that they could see from the other side of the universe.

And it cost her shining beauty, it cost the ability to shine, the ability to remember that stars exist out there somewhere, the ability to recall that there are things beyond this place, to remember that she used to imagine that hell would be warmer than this.

But it was worth it, oh it was worth it, because now she'll be rewarded and now she'll get her comeuppance and now she'll be able to shine in a different galaxy, instead of the old one she used to sparkle in. And they'll remember her forever.

Because stars like her don't fall without a fanfare.
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(A/N: ...Figured out that second person is, apparently, illegal here. And seeing as I really like this one and do not want it deleted, I've edited it.)