Touching the stars.

“Look out!” Tanya called out.

Frowning, I turned instinctively to her voice, a large white ball. Came flying towards me; ducking down I covered my head. The connection of the ball made a deep thud noise, I sighed in relief that it wasn’t my pride that was no shattered. Looking up, my boyfriend; Michael was curled away. The ball dropped beside him. The bubble of laughter rumbled into my throat; I couldn’t help but burst into a fit of laughter.

Michael was the sporty one, he played; Rugby, soccer and tennis and sometimes basketball in his free time. Looking up at me, he poked his tongue out at me; standing up he jumped forward at me. Tickling my ribs erupts in fits of cackling laughter I pushed away from him. Running away playfully, he jogged slowly behind me. He could catch me easily, but then the game would be over.

I was possibly 100 meters away from him, a giant grin on my face. A high pitch nasal noise erupted through the air. I felt the world around me begin to fade.

Snapping my eyes open, I looked to my ceiling. It was a dream, well a memory-type dream. Michael was very much real, but he was also very much deceased. He died in a car accident three months ago. Bitting into my lip I felt the tears begin to prickle in my eyes.

Pushing myself up off my bed, I sighed loudly and stretched out. Making the unattractive dinosaur noises, the dull clicks in my back as I rolled my shoulders told me I had a good sleep. Shutting up my alarm, I sighed. It was a cold morning; considering it was June in Australia it wasn’t to be unexpected. Grabbing my wool jacket off the end of my bed, I rugged myself up. Slipping on my oversized polar bear shapes slippers, I opened my bedroom door. I was instantly greeted by a chilly wind that washed through the empty house; my parents were in the Caribbean for three months. Travelling all over before heading into America, casually forgetting there seventeen year old daughter. Jogging down the large staircase, I was alerted to someone else’s presence in the house. Tensing up, I felt my pulse begin to race. Spinning around, I came face to face with my parents cleaner. Gasping I jumped back from her, my hand going to my throat.

“Desdemona!” I gasped out; she startled herself and stumbled back.

“Miss Jenkins! I’m sorry, I thought you knew I was here today” she said, with a light smile.

The wrinkles in her face, from years of laughter and smiles. She was a beautiful woman, old and fragile and didn’t do a good job cleaning the house, she hardly did anything. But we loved her company so much, we keep her on. My parents wanted to fire her, but I put my foot down. She was my mother in many ways; I had forgotten she was coming to keep my company while my parents were gone. Pulling a smile across my face, I shrugged casually.

“Sorry Desdemona, I didn’t mean to startle you either, of course I knew you were coming today!” I lied smoothly, it was a white lie.

“I shall let you continue to what you were doing” she replied, before hurrying off into the lounge room.

Choking out my cackle laugh, I moved off into the kitchen. Opening the cupboards, I felt a smile pull at my lips. Desdemona went shopping for me, buying me all sort of delicious things to eat. Bonus!

Licking my lips as I eyed off all the food that was filled up in my cupboards, pulling out a bowl and my favourite cereal; corn flakes, I chuckled to myself.

“It’s a standard, but not a favourite” I quoted my best friends favourite band’s member; Louis Tomlinson.

Almost like she knew I was thinking about her, the house phone began to jingle throughout the house. Her personalised ringtone allowing acknowledgment to her existence, or not...