empyrean

The sun weighs about 330,000 times more than the earth

***

What happens when you feel dead inside?. I typed.

Numerous articles popped up on Google, ranging from stupid reasons to more stupid reasons. Google at this point was not my best friend.

I tried again, my fingers moving over the keyboard slowly but with purpose... What happens when you feel dead inside because your dead sister's birthday is today and it hit you so bad you dont want to be alive for at least an hour!

Nope nothing at all. I shut my laptop in fustration, shutting my eyes as if I could shut down the tears that wanted to escape.

September 30th all for Aster simmers.

***

"Do you know the flower Aster is a September birth flower" my sister's voice floated from the other side the room, soft and light. "And that it stands for wisdom, faith and valor. The Greek name means star. You call me your sun so I guess that fits"

I glanced up, unsure of where this was going.

She sat on the old red chair by the frames of pictures, a magazine settled on her Jean clad legs.

"Did you know my name is basically for female characters who need to be saved? Like Daphne from Scooby Doo?" I asked- my voice heavy with sarcasm - with a frown on my face "I don't 'need' to be saved by someone else. I can handle just fine"

Aster giggled." I know you can, Daphne." Her face got serious."that does not mean you decline any help from someone who really cares about you."

"It's weakness" I protested

"It's not, it means you're strong actually. The ability to ask for help when things are hard. Every once in a while, a person deserves to be saved, to lay of the stress" she shrugged, when I raised my eyebrows at her "I don't know what I'm saying. I'm 14, no time for all those adult philosophies"

She smiled and leaned forward. " My name also conveys emotional and affectionate love. I love you Daphne. With all the petals I have"

With all the petals she had

***

"There wasn't any time for you to hear those adult philosophies" I whispered into nothing and clutched my head, a pounding sensation beating against my skull.

I groaned slightly and clutched until it calmed down. It only came when I had missed several meals in a row.

I'll survive. I remind myself. I'll survive.

I lay on my bed, under the covers looking up my ceiling. There was a star map with the Galaxy in all its Glory. A present from my dad after I got all A's in my school report. I treasured it really and late at night, when the little fairy lights around it seemed to glow, Aster would sneak in, kiss my forehead and look at the ceiling with me, holding my hand and lending me her strength if she thought I needed it.

I always needed it. I trace the map with my eyes, taking in the bright sun at the corner.

You call me your sun so I guess that fits.

It was that day of the year again, when we were reminded that she would've added another year, cakes and all.

She would've been 19, already in college, majoring in astrology and being the greatest light the world had seen.

The day was already planned, wake up depressed, check. Follow parents to the central cemetery for a few minutes of more depression . Not check. Go to bed even more depressed. Not check

I was dreading that. The cries to and fro and the heartbroken eyes of my parents. My mother's sobs, my father's silence, holding themselves like they could disappear any moment. It was all too much. I couldn't take it. They had each other, I had no one anymore. She saved me countless times and I couldn't do it once for her.

What was that about being strong?

Pathetic.

There was a knock, firm but soft, my mother's head peeked inside, her eyes on the mess of clothes on the floor to my stiff frame on the bed.

What happens when you feel dead inside again?

"Hey baby" she cleared her throat and smiled at him,Trying to be strong but I didn't know for who. "You want to get ready? It's almost time"

I made a noise and I wasn't sure what, I turned my head to the side until I heard a small sigh and the distance click of my door.

I'm sorry Mom. I just can't. Sorry you had to get me as your surviving child.

I stood up wincing at the stiffness of my legs and went into the bathroom.

**

"You sure you don't want to come with us. It'll be good for you sweets" my dad said to me. He was standing outside the car with my mother's hand in his. He wouldn't want it to show, but I could see the already glistening eyes.

No! I wouldn't be able to.

"No I'm okay" I whispered looking down at the hardback novel in my hands, tapping continuously at the cover. My dad was holding the basket of Aster flowers we'd picked together at the florist' shop downtown.

My breath hitched and mom noticed.

"It's okay, you can stay but call if you need anything okay baby?" My mom said leaning over to kiss my forehead, her lips trembling hard. "We'll be there a short while? Just to see her then we'll be out baby"

I nodded, Feeling a small sting in my head.

I watched them walk pass the cemetery gates, my mother leaning more on my father as they went. It hurt her deeply. It hurt them deeply. But they had each other.

It must have been a few minutes after they left before I noticed a figure walk pass the gates with his - from what I could tell - hands in his pockets. His dark hair looked blue in the light and with a gasp I recognized the person. I could recognize those paint messed up clothes anywhere.

Ajax king

At a cemetery?

The last time I had seen him I had talked about the stars after he drew one and we'd joked and laughed. Together. And that was two days ago.

I left that thought alone and focused on Ajax.

His head was low and his steps were fast and calculated, a bag pack bumped against his back as he increased his speed, almost running now.

My head snapped towards my parents who were leaving the gates with small sad smiles on their faces. I turned towards Ajax and he wasn't there.

Huh? What? What?

This day just took on a whole new meaning.

My head was running miles and it hurt to think. I almost didn't hear my dad's concerned voice. The pounding in my head was playing some rock song in my head. It hurt.

"Daphne, are you okay?" He said

"Yeah yeah, I'm okay" my voice broke at the end, the hard pounding at the side of my head increasing.

"Who was that guy, the one with paint all over? the one in black who-" I said and was cut off by mom.

"Ohh that young lad, helped us with the stones. A lot littered around and could cause serious injury, you okay?" My mum said turning her head towards me, her nurse voice already coming out.

"But what was he doing there?" I stressed. The headache was getting worse. Just a little while please. I begged.

My dad shrugged a little "i don't know, maybe a loved one? It's rude to ask. He just helped us in the gates passage and left"

His eyes flitted over to me for a second before concentrating on the road again.

"Oh" my voice was small. My hands were sweaty as I tried to calm down. There was pressure behind my eyes.

Oh no. The pressure increased

"Are you sure you're okay?" I heard my mum "you're pale"

I it wasn't a lie but it wasn't everything, I said"it's just hard. I miss her"

I'm sorry Aster.

My mom nodded and turned back,not before I saw a few tears escape.

***

My hands shook as I got home. Trembling so hard it could cause major vibrations. I clutched my head.

I took a much needed breath and closed my room door, blocking out the movement of my broken parents downstairs.

My legs buckled under me as I let out a quiet sob. The tears came out. It didn't stop. The tears didn't stop. Neither did the pain. It hurt. The feeling of lonliness.

It hurt so much. My stomach tumbled around and my throat closed up tight.

I stored what I had of Ajax in my head before crawling towards the bathroom. The minute I got to the toilet bowl, I puked out bile, as my stomach was as empty as my soul. I heaved, sweat rolling down my neck slowly.

A putrid smell hit me while my stubborn tears rolled down. The minute I was sure I was done.I wiped my mouth, my breath coming out as shaky.

"Happy birthday Aster. I'm trying I swear but I can't. I can't. I can't" I chanted, rocking back and forth on the floor, pressing the palms of my hand to my chest as if to rid the pain.

It was weakness. Maybe I did deserve my name.

I wasn't strong, Aster. I wasn't.