Broken Crystal Stars

 Broken Crystal Stars

by Andrea Monsma

“I didn't mean to.” I whisper to the dark expanse of sky through my open window. “But I guess that doesn't matter. I only wanted to help, but all I can do is break things apart.” I turn away from my window, to face my dark room. I make a face at the overflowing baby blue suitcase on my bed. “This is it then.” I say, shrugging my shoulders and closing the suitcase, the lock makes a sharp click as I fasten it. I shove the heavy suitcase out through the window onto the roof. I follow it out, and stand on the roof listening to the soft wind through the trees and the crickets singing their hearts out. I walk carefully across the roof, trying not to make any noise. When I get to the lowest part of the roof I drop my suitcase to the ground, when I hear a soft thump I jump down after it.

I don’t look back at the dingy farmhouse as I walk away. My father and stepmother can survive without me, and my step siblings will be glad of an extra bedroom. I step onto the gravel driveway, my suitcase rattling awkwardly behind me. I glance up at the dark sky, stars, pieces of broken crystal, glitter at me. I quickly look down at my worn hiking boots instead, as they trudge on, distancing myself from my family and my past. I don't want to be reminded of that afternoon; I want to leave it all behind. I suppose it was a good thing that I messed up; it finally gave me a good enough reason to leave. I've never agreed with them, and they never understood me. I had just been trying to help, but my dumb luck had turned that into a disaster. It was an accident, but that made no difference. I was washing the dishes and my hands slipped, stupid clumsy me. It was my mother’s crystal serving plate, I'm sure my father hates me now. It was such a beautifully heartbreaking sound when it shattered. All the pieces shone like the glittering stars in the sky. I had run away from my father’s yells and the horrified looks on my sibling’s faces, hiding in my bedroom. “Why did we even use that stupid plate?” I ask myself angrily, kicking at the pebbles in the long driveway. I had said I was sorry, but it made no difference. They can keep the pieces; I'll take the real stars.

 The long driveway comes to an end abruptly halting my thoughts. The smooth black river of pavement stretches out in front of me, east and west, yellow stripes streaking through the middle. I look back up at the stars that glitter just like the broken crystal, just like our broken family. “Oh God,” I whisper, “What am I doing? I can't break us apart more that we already are.” I look back at the empty road again and then turn to look back at the sleeping farmhouse. A star shoots down from the sky and vanishes behind the trees on the horizon. “Make a wish.” my younger sister would say. I shake my head slowly in defeat “Can we piece this broken crystal family back together?” I whisper to the sky, and start walking down the driveway, back toward the house. “I can't do this by myself. Please help us out.” I pray. Because why wish upon a star when you can pray to the one created it?