Fading Star

It must have been the darkest night,

Not a star in sight…

A figure perched on the rail of a porch long, legs dangling. Waves tumbled elegantly to her waist. sky, blue eyes that shone like stars in the night sky and softly carved features. Dressed in nothing but a hot pink, sun-dress on a chilling, winter night…



Silence. The crisp, night air seemed still. I glanced up at the night sky, ink black. Not even a star shimmering in the darkness. My eyes fell upon a jet black, moon. I was on the porch, my legs dangling over the rail. Honey, brown waves wavering in the wind,

Images flashed in front of me, of you.

Running your fingers through my hair and calling me your shining star, surfing in Malibu Beach with you at my side, and all those letters filled with your endless love for me, your shining star.

[i]Just as you walked away from me, now

[/i]

Heavy footsteps echo down the hall, as I slam the door of my apartment and dart out, crystalline tears cascading down my cheeks. I am puzzled, and lost. How could you just take my heart, and then throw it all away? Yet through all this confusion I can vaguely see the truth, flicker like a fiery, flame in your grassy, green eyes.

I remember those phone calls late at night,

“Sugar, Baby. Boss w-wants me-me to work overtime.”

Your voice always sounded sleepy and slurred. Drunk. In the distance I could hear upbeat, hip-hop music blaring faintly in the background, and the haunting sound of girls laughing as they downed shots of alcohol one after the other.

“Bryar!” I shout, across the hall running barefooted, pulling my old, tanned coat around me.

“No…Please come back. I-I love you…” I breathe. My voice chokes with irrepressible, stinging tears. I watch my one and only, my best friend, the greatest thing that ever happened, and the love of my life vanish behind the streets.

And your last words, they hurt me the most, like a knife in my heart…

“Get the hell out of here Sugar! You don’t mean…anything to me anymore.”

“B-But-” I am cut off, by silence. What happened to that sweet, boy with the jet,black fringe that hung just over his shining, topaz eyes?

[i]

Did you see how hard I’ve tried?

Not to show the pain inside…[/i]

Years have past. Without hearing from you, no letters, phone calls, emails, or even just a brief, message on my answering machine

The phone rattles and blares endlessly, every week and I know it’s always the same person. Amber, my best friend since Junior High School.

“Hey…It’s Amber! Want to go surfing with me? Or go to a café?” she asks, animatedly.

“Uh… I’m sorry. I have a big test coming up, and I uh…have to study. Goodbye Amber.” I mutter, the words slip from my mouth before I can stop them.

I can’t bare to tell her…or anyone for that matter about Bryar. I know everyone’s worried about me. Even Mom came up from Prince Edward Island to see me, and stayed with me for a week and boiled chicken soup. Yet I can’t eat anything. I only drink water and eat ice.

Not to show the pain inside

I hate my life. I hate everyone! Except Bryar. Mom came up again to visit one day, saying,

“Sugar. Honey. I think you need help…”

She escorted me on a booked flight to New York, and left me in an Eating Disorders Rehabilitation Unit. Here the doctors think I’m insane, but I’m not. I’m not anorexic.

I now make my home in a small, white-washed walled room with a bunk bed and a kitchen. I live with other anorexic girls who are mostly teens and former models with nervous breakdowns and pin-thin bodies, and ribs that jut out of their t-shirts. I’m the thinnest weighing in at 34kg.

Sometimes, I toast an extra piece of bread and shout,

“Breakfast’s ready!”

Then I remember that you’re not here.

Every night, I read your letters one after the other before I can sleep at night. I cuddle the tattered, old teddy bear you bought for me in the Summer Carnival and pretend that it's you in my arms. Again.

All this for nothing. It feels like yesterday, the day that you pushed me away. The darkest night. The night that the moon was painted black. The night of my birthday.

I glance at your antiqued, photographs which I dusted from the albums that I hid under the bunk bed. Plastered all over the white-washed walls. Unlike many of the other girls, who worship their glossy, gossip magazine cut-outs of underweight, teen models and celebrities. Images flash past like a film, a film of our life together. Just you and me. We were never just Bryar or Sugar. We were Bryar and Sugar, our names linked with each other’s. Laughing, smiling, and all the times that I took for granted. Captured on a digital camera.

I bend down on my knees, and kiss each photograph of you Goodnight. I glance at the full-length mirror. Anorexic or not. I still love you. And always will. Inside, this body of this girl I hardly recognise I’m still that girl I used to be. I just want to be me. Me. That small-town girl from the countryside with big dreams.

A crystalline, tear flows down my cheek...

[i]

It must have been the darkest night,

Not a star in sight…[/i]