What The Night Sky Beholds

a time, there was a girl who adored space. She read pages upon pages of books about constellations and the stars, memorizing names and how many miles away they were from earth. The girl knew the science behind sending astronauts to space, making miniatures of them and flying them around in the air with her hands. She knew the name of every planet, and would talk out loud to them as if they could hear. Only after telling them the events of her day, she could finally go to sleep.

There had only been one person who would listen to everything she had to say about the stars; her mother. Before her mother had passed, they would review the intricate details of space every night, like she was preparing for a test. Back then, she would mix up Jupiter and Mars, or have trouble finding Orion’s Belt. But her mother would always remind her she could close her eyes. You can find the stars with your mind, her mother had said. You look at the sky every night, so picture it, remember what it looks like in your head; the stars will come to you. Every time she opened them back up, whatever she was looking for would be right in front of her. Her mother’s wide smile would greet her as well, dimples teasing the corners of her face.

Her mother’s passing had turned space into a tense topic. Her father could no longer handle hearing about the properties of black holes and wormholes; So, he banned conversations of the Milky Way from their house. All of her windows were boarded up, but the stubborn moonlight occasionally crept through the cracks. Still, it was hollow and dark inside of that room, all of her posters and books had been stripped away. The only comfort the girl found was whispering names and numbers into the night, hoping her father could not hear. She didn’t want to forget a single detail, so she closed her eyes as she recited. 

One afternoon, when she came home from school, her father had gathered all of her things. I hear you whispering every night; you disobeyed my rules. You cannot live here anymore. He handed her the bag and shut the door in her face. There was nowhere for her to go, so she wandered the city, looking for a place to stay. Mothers called their children inside for dinner, birds returned to their nests, and the hum of the bees and bugs grew quieter. As the sun dipped even further, the whole city was subdued. So, she held her breath, continuing into the abyss as the paved roads turned into dirt and greenery. Her only method of orientation was the occasional glance up at the North Star.

Near the village was a dense forest, with tall trees that stretched on for miles and miles. In the daytime, the forest was inviting and beautiful. But now, at night, it was haunting and threatening. The girl began to turn back, considering knocking on doors and begging for a place to stay. But it began to rain. The village was too far away now, and the dirt roads would soon become too soiled to travel on. The girl clutched her bag tighter as she hastily made her way deeper into the frondescence. The rain became heavier, so intense that she couldn't continue on any more, because the stars were impossible to see. She pulled a tarp out of her bag and laid it onto the mud, praying that the sky would clear. Lips quivering, clothes soaked, body shaking and shivering in the harsh cold. She shut her eyes one last time, no longer trying to see space. It was no use.

Then suddenly, it was warm. And bright. It didn’t make sense at first; the light was opalescent and pale. It wasn’t the sun, but it felt good. As she slowly began to see, the girl realized it was no longer raining. The earth beneath her feet was drying, her clothes becoming softer and lighter. When she craned her head towards the clouds, they had all cleared. The moonlight was shining so bright, and so blue, and it almost felt like morning. Even more so, the warmth felt familiar. Slowly, she sat up and collected her things. Unable to take her eyes off the sky, she witnessed the stars drift and float around. They formed an arrow, and she held up her finger to follow its point; The North Star rested just above a billow of smoke beyond the treetops. Each step was now slow, and unhurried. The inky night seemed to stretch on, as the stars danced above. Finally, she came to the source of the smoke; a small, brick house with the lights on. Hesitantly, she tested the door knob. It turned and opened, revealing a haven.

Inside the house, there were shelves full with books about space, images of the cosmos, maps of the galaxy. The bedsheets and blinds were navy, with a skylight that allowed the warm, bright moonlight to flow through. Miniatures littered the window sills, and tools like rulers and telescopes were already in position. She set her bag down and laid to rest, feeling the heat of the fireplace and the glow of everything above. The girl no longer had to close her eyes to envision space; it was all around her.