How to Love the Stars | Ghost (Simon Riley)

Chapter 33

Althea never really remembered her parents. She remembered even less of the moment she was found by the general. But she dreamed about it. She was four years old when the General found her and saved her from a fate that met her parents. Terrorists raided the town, killing everybody, even the women and children. The frequency of the dreams varied, sometimes it happened every night without fail for months, and sometimes she wouldn't have it for months.

Every time, it was the same dream. And every time, as her mind let her drift back into that cruel, empty world, she could never realize she was dreaming. Not until she woke up, hair sticking to her forehead and drenched in sweat.

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Althea opened her eyes, her pupils slowly adjusting to the light. The warm dry air warmed her cold cheeks, and she glanced around, her vision blurry. She found herself curled up on a couch, the warm touch of her mother warming her shoulder as the simmering scent of french toast wafted through the air, although it seemed that it was quite late in the evening. Her mother combed a brush through her lengthy hair, cooing to her and coddling her.

"Maman!" She could hear bright, peppy music playing as her father hummed in the kitchen, her parents' clear, laughing voices ringing out like bells.

She felt as if she'd been there before. She felt as if she should run away, that she shouldn't be there. But she couldn't help but laugh with them as her mother grabbed her tiny hand and pulled them both to their feet, giggling. The happiness she felt made her heart swell, and she pushed the feelings of déjà vu into the background. With a contented smile, Althea allowed her mother to pull her to her feet, their laughter blending with the cheerful music her father was humming in the kitchen. The joy in her parents' voices filled the room like a sweet melody, and for that brief moment, any worries or doubts that had been on her mind seemed to vanish.

She looked up, eager to see her mother's shining smile and glittering dark eyes, but her gaze fell on a faceless woman, still laughing and twirling her around. Her father was the same. While both of them were faceless, their heads weren't exactly blank, but their facial features all blurred together, only giving her a vague idea of their expressions. She could catch a glimpse of a bright smile from the corner of her eye, but when she tried to discern the exact facial structure of her parent's faces, they all blurred together.

Her father picked her up, taking her to the window, where they pressed their hands against it, breath fogging up the glass. Outside, the night sky stretched endlessly, a vast canvas of darkness splattered with countless stars. Althea's mother stood beside them, her gentle smile illuminated by the soft glow of the room's warm light. She began to point at the stars, her voice soft and melodious as she named the constellations, each one a story in the tapestry of the cosmos.

Her father leaned down, pressing a kiss to her head. Althea was mesmerized by the glowing pinpricks of light, watching them. She wondered if they were watching her too. But as quickly as the memory had come, it faded away, leaving Althea with a bittersweet ache in her heart. The warmth of her father's embrace, the softness of her mother's voice, and the brilliance of the stars—all were now distant echoes of a past that could never be reclaimed.

Someone pounded at the door, and her parents looked towards each other. In the midst of her idyllic dream, the sudden pounding at the door shattered the serenity like glass. Althea's parents exchanged a quick, worried glance, their expressions shifting from joy to concern. The cheery music that had filled the air moments ago faded into a distant memory, drowned out by the urgent banging that reverberated through the room.

As the ominous sound continued, Althea's heart began to race, a sense of unease creeping over her. She clung to her mother's hand, feeling the warmth and reassurance, but the joy that had filled her moments before now seemed like a distant memory.