Sometimes I find myself unable to sleep at night, staring blankly at the ceiling as I watch the fan dance above me while it throws gusts of wind at my face. My anxiety keeps me up, stressed equally and greatly between my school life, social life, and now my family life. Grandma is dying. 

One night I went downstairs for a midnight snack, and amidst guiding myself through the dark curtains of shadows, I found more than just leftover pizza in the fridge; through the window I saw Grandma in the field, alone. I panicked and ran outside to go get her, afraid that she had gotten confused or that she would trip and hurt herself, yet as I came closer I stopped in my tracks to discover that she was only peacefully gazing up into the sky, staring at the twinkling white sparkles that frolicked in the black abyss. 

“Grandma…are you okay?”

“Oh! Hello sweetie,” She turned to me and grabbed my cheek, squeezing it playfully, “Shouldn’t you be in bed right now? It’s not good for you to stay up late, you know.”

“I was going to ask you the same question-”

“Here, let’s sit down together. My feet were getting tired anyway.” I thought about convincing her to come back inside, but she was already kneeling down to sit. I helped her down carefully and she wrapped her scarf around me. She held my hand, grinned, and looked back up with the same, loving expression. For a while it was just the two of us, sitting there, watching the stars and holding each other's hand. I squeezed it. No no no, now was not the time to get emotional. I took a deep breath and looked for a way to distract myself. 

“So…what do you see in those stars?”

“Family.”

“Haha, c’mon now, Grandma. Your family is right here. By the way, did you take your meds?”

Her head slowly dropped down and pondered for a moment. Her head shot back up, a twinkle in her eye. She looked at me, but something was different. 

“I’m going to tell you the truth. About everything, about the world, life, and the universe as we know it. I’m not allowed to because…it will hear me…but everything comes to an end now, doesn’t it?” She chuckled, looking off into the distance. Nothing could have prepared me for what I was about to learn, or what was about to happen, but I slowly gave a nod and looked back at her, uncertain, yes, but there.

“You see,” she began, “We all originate from stars. Perhaps, it may seem foolish, but what I say is true. Watch me as I close my eyes; this is when nothing only existed, and no one knows for how long, but once The Eyes awakened. Yes! This is the Universe. We live in the universe, certainly, but it has eyes like yours and mine, beautiful eyes. Its iris is the reflection of the cosmos and everything gorgeous betrothed in it– which is everything. When it woke up, it glanced around the blank canvas before it. At every glance the Universe added planets, comets, asteroids, and most importantly, it created the stars as a reflection of it’s very own eyes. We are children of The Eyes, and before we were human or any other living creature, we were first stars. Full of energy, brightness, movement, warmth…yet born with no life. Unfitting, is it not?”

“What is it like…to be a star?” I respond with the best attempts of keeping up.

“Lonely! So lonely…and boring too. But this is where everything changed. Everything! A door appeared, a gateway with a blinding light inside, yet no one knew where it went. The Eyes told the stars that if they wished to feel, to eat, to dream, to hurt, to breathe, to live, life laid beyond the door. There was a catch, however, in fact you could say there were two; once you entered the door, it was a lottery of what you could become. All souls are equal.”

“And the second catch?”

“You would forget,” her shoulders rose and she peered off in discomfort, “while alive, you have no recollection of your star existence, but when you meet the blinding light of the door once more after your life has ended, you’re a newly born star again. In this precious sliver of a moment you remember everything. You’re confused, scared, yet swimming in the memories of your life, like a baby that cuddles into the crevices of its mother. The little moment of bliss we cling onto is ended when the eyes greet us once more. It sheds a tear. It droops into our soul and cleanses all of who we were away. Blank slates we are but again.”

My body shivered from both the frosty air and her words, but I composed myself and returned to logic.

“This was a nice story and all Grandma, really, but…if your memory gets ‘erased’ or whatever, you can’t be so sure that everything you’re stating is fact-”

“But the story isn’t over! Look!” Grandma grabbed my head and shifted it upwards. A thin white streak painted into the sky, then disappeared. “You…want me to make a wish?” 

“We run! Escape! Soar!” She sprung up as if her age no longer phased her, spreading out her arms. “We shoot into the galaxy and search for the door! Traveling almost faster than the speed of light, we race across space longing for more! There was a clear separation between the stars to be noted, however— those who would rather not experience life at all so they wouldn’t have to long for anything in the first place. Cold and robotic those ones were— and then there were the stars who after having lived once, could not stand to not to live again!” she got down on her knees and gripped my shoulders, “You see, love will never be enough to say goodbye to! Nor nature, nor happiness, nor sadness, nor time, nor peace, nor family, nor friends, never! It’s so scary to think about, yet it’s even scarier to possibly never think again.”

I hugged her. I could tell she was starting to cry but I continued to caress her back. I think I was crying too. She broke away and looked back at the sky.

“The Universe grew angry,” she continued, “It grew tired of the stars running from it, kind of like how a parent feels when a child runs away, and once they find them, they run away again. Or maybe the stars are like prey running from predators. After all these eons, I still can’t tell which one fits more. Anyway, the Universe decided that if it captured a star who ran away from them, it would curse them to explode and transform into a blackhole; forced to eat up planets, solar-systems, stars…and lives.”

“What’s in a black hole?”

“Nothing. And now it is inevitable that the Universe will return to how it was before. The Eyes will soon close, and everything will be nothing again.”

There was a sad silence. Her hair blew in the wind, piercing her eyes into the night as if she was expecting something to appear before her. I got up and grabbed her hand for the last time. 

“Well…you’re here now, right? You were brave enough to be a part of those stars who could fly away, and you never got caught! Don’t worry, you’re going to stay with us Grandma! Please.”

“Oh, dear. I’ve already told you. Everything comes to an end now, doesn’t it?”

A pair of ginormous eyes emerged from the darkness, spreading all over the night sky. They glistened and the art of the cosmos swirled inside them. It steadily drew near, closer and closer, and the wind became turbulent. The leaves swirled around us and Grandma flew up too. I could barely hang onto her, struggling to stand, and petrified. 

“You, have to let go-”

“No! This is all a dream! You’re not being taken away from a giant pair of floating eyeballs! J-Just hang on! Please!”

“It’s no use-”

“Why?! Why is it taking you away now? How come?! I don’t want this to happen…please!”

“It’s because I let my secret out to you. That’s all. I’ve already lived long enough, I’ve lost track. It’s time for the end.”
“But I thought you were afraid…Grandma…I’m afraid.” Tears blurred my vision as the wind loosened my grip. I held on tighter, my hand growing numb.

“You must live,”

My hand began to slip

“Promise me that.”

She inched further away.
“O-okay. I will,” I forced a smile and laughed. “I promise.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Grandma.”

I pulled her in with all my might
And gave her a hug.

She let go.

And flew away. 

Into the stars.

And disappeared.