Shadows

16.Simple, I don't get in trouble.

He snorts, "simple. I don't get in trouble."

"Right." I say, "of course. How could I be so stupid?"

"Don't know, I guess it's genetic."

I want to deny that, but I don't really see the point. I keep walking.

"Come on," he groans, "I don't have all day. Look, I'm wasting gas on you right now, so just appreciate me for once."

My tone stays blank as a paper, "I never told you to 'waste your gas' on me. You're free to leave."

There's a pause, and it hits me that he's actually thinking about it. That carves a hole in my chest. I can almost feel it bleeding, feel the dull, piercing ache reverberate into my bones.

"Fine," he says, "but if my parents call, you say I dropped you home, safe and sound."

"Yeah, okay." I shrug.

"Oh yes," I can almost hear the smirk in his voice, he's probably looking at his phone, "the party's just getting started." With that, he swerves to the right and drives away.

By the time the rumble of his engine fades, I'm a couple blocks away from the house. I sigh to myself.

"Aiden?"

"Huh?"

"Why are there white spots on the sky?" I pointed up at the night sky.

He stopped fiddling with his flashlight, "they're stars, idiot. It's where people go after they die."

"They become stars?"

"Yeah."

I stare up at the sky, looking for gran's star. A solitary light amidst a sea of sparks. It's a childish thing to believe, that people turn to stars after death, I don't know. I guess we're all children inside.

"Aiden?"

"Yeah?" He answered as he broke his cookie in half, giving the other half to me.

"Do stars die?"

"Yeah, everything dies."

My eyes widen, "why? So what happens to the people?"

"They're forgotten," he says, "it's like- as long as someone remembers you, your star will always be up, but then, if there's no one left to remember, then everyone forgets. And then you disappear."

"Then what?"

He shrugs, "mama never told me."

My eyes trail to my surroundings. The road is fairly empty now. Cars parked at both sides. There are a lot of old fashioned houses around here, with numerous tress around the block, their branches form a sort of canopy above me, shading me from the light of the lampposts. A night wind rustles between the cars, the cracks in the buildings, it travels down in swirls with falling leaves.

It all feels very dismal to me. Grey leaves, grey trees, a black sky, and an empty street. The only person walking there is me.