Supernova [#Wattys2019]

Prologue

The inky void always seemed compelling. Sundry bursts of white bespeckled the infinite space as far as the eye could see. With the fathomless, dark yonder and stars aplenty, what could be more tantalizing to young Wernher von Braun?

The cold wind of Wyrzysk, Germany nipped at his skin as he sped out the auburn brick house. His feet seemed to fly over the haphazardly strewn gravel, having done this every day since his earliest memories. The scenes of the quaint town blurred in his peripheral as he ran into town. His stomach sent pangs of hunger through his tiny frame, but he didn't particularly care. Wernher von Braun was on a mission.

But today wasn't like other days, where he would go to his favorite spot at the edge of the cliff, a telescope too big for a mere 12-year-old clutched in his hands. There he would sit with his best friend for hours on end - observing the sky and dreaming of his adventure in space - until one of the Wehrmacht that Mama had sent to fetch him dragged him out of his fantasies. She was the one who had given him the telescope after his first confirmation. Wernher believed that with his best friend in his arms, he was unstoppable.

Yet, today was different. This time, he didn't run away from town but right into the heart of it. As he set foot in the town square, he hesitated. But then he remembered Max Valier did not set world records by being afraid. Wernher was sure that his rocket-propelled car would be the fastest one in the entire world, even more than Valier. With new resolve, he stepped onto the street and placed the toy wagon on the floor. 

He looked at his creation with awe and fear. He had modified his favorite wooden red wagon with miniature blue wheels. It now had two fin-like structures protruding from its sides, and three fireworks he had found under his older brother's bed. He was afraid of the new possibilities his creation could achieve, yet he craved it. Questions started to cloud his thoughts, but he pushed the doubts out of his mind. He had made this with hard work. This was the first step to his dreams in the sky.

Without further hesitation, he whisked out a box of matches he had stolen from the kitchen under the watchful eye of Aviva and pulled out a matchstick. Adrenaline coursed through his veins and anticipation made his fingers shake. He tried to light the small stick, but it refused to burn. Tears threatened the back of his eyes. Would all of his efforts and hard work be ruined by a mere match? But, like in most of his life, he resiliently tried again and again until it worked. With a newfound excitement, his lit up the fireworks. Wernher was tingling with excitement, and could barely wait until the fire lit up his contraption. He took many steps backward and bit his lip, a nervous habit he couldn't get rid of. 

The spark ignited the fireworks and set the machine in motion. It whizzed past the townspeople who they hollered as they jumped out if its way. As the wagon went out if sight, Wernher was over the moon with excitement and joy. But suddenly, there was a loud boom. The entire square jumped in fear. The shattering of glass was followed by the shrieks of the unsuspecting. Wernher immediately wriggled through the crowd and went to the center of the explosion. There he saw a horrible sight. His creation had exploded, completely shattering the glass of a bakery but injuring nobody. A single thought rang throughout his mind: failure. But there was no time to think as the orpo had begun shouting throughout the square, looking for the perpetrator.

The ecstasy in his veins was immediately replaced by fear. As soon as Wernher caught sight of the muted green uniforms, he closed his eyes broke out in a run. But before he could get far, a big hand grabbed him by the shoulder and yanked him backward. Wernher struggled against the police with all his might; kicking, shouting, scratching, biting. But the six feet tall men remained unfazed and detained him without delay. The last thing Wernher saw as he was whisked away from the square was half his battered creation, lying on the floor as broken as he felt.