Noah's Star

     "Another shooting star."

     Remi pulled blankets from the back seat of her car and walked over towards Noah's truck. The sun was still peeking over the horizon as the moon began to follow behind.

     The sky looked like a painting as the colors of the sunset created layers of orange, purple and a dark blue that blended into black. The stars were coming into view as though they were lights turning on in a warehouse.

     An hour outside of their small town, Remi and Noah had found the perfect spot to stargaze together before moving to New York; where the closest view of a night sky they would be able to get was the glow in the dark stickers Remi insisted on buying for their apartment.

     "Wait to put the blankets on until I finish blowing up the air mattress," joked Noah as he wrapped a blanket around Remi. Bundled like a child wrapped in a towel after a bath, Remi was just tall enough to keep the blanket off the ground. Noah grabbed her head and gently bent down to kiss he on the forehead. "I can't wait to move to New York," he rambles as he continues with the air mattress in the bed of his truck, "I finally get to display my discoveries at New York University and run their archeology department. And you! My perfect fiancé, finally get to have your own art gallery and display your art at The Met! Our lives are almost so perfect, someone might think we're characters in a movie."

     Still wrapped in the blanket Remi waddles behind Noah and rests her head on his back. "Shush! You don't want to jinx it," she chuckles, "but yes, I am ready to start our lives together in New York."

     With the air mattress full, Remi returns the blankets and pillows to their rightful place and crawls in the bed to cuddle. Noah followed behind her, laying down next to her and pulled her into his arms and let her head rest on his chest. The two of them fell asleep watching the stars. 

     The next morning Remi woke up with all the blankets. Still half-asleep she unwrapped one of the blankets from under her and threw it behind her to cover Noah up. Even after years of being together she still hasn't fixed her habit of stealing all the blankets, but then again, Noah never made any comments about it. She often woke up wrapped in all the blankets while he tried to cover his body with a throw pillow.

     As she threw the blanket over him, she felt it fall behind her. Rolling over to see why she missed, her arm searched the empty bed, looking for his body. After three pats on the mattress, her eyes shot open and she frantically looked for Noah. She leapt up from the bed, climbing out of the bed of the truck, her heart racing. She slipped her shoes on but didn't bother to pull the backs up. She ran around the mountainside with her shoes halfway on and only an oversized shirt on. Her car was still there, his keys and wallet were still in his truck. There was no sign that he had left.

     Maybe he's lost, or hurt. She thought to herself. She never even felt him get up in the middle of the night. She went back to her car and got dressed. Looking at her watch she tried not to panic. We have to have the cars packed and be on the road in three hours. She grabbed her phone and called Noah.

     "I'm sorry, but the number you have dialed..." she hung up and tried again. "I'm sorry, but the number you..." she hung up again. It was a long shot, but she tried their landline. "Hi! This is Remi. Leave a..." she hung up. 

     That wasn't their answering machine. They had a cliché couple answering machine. The one where they took turns saying every word. Their friends hated it, but they liked being that couple that was overly romantic.

     Next, she tried he best friend. "Hello?" a woman's voice answered.

     "Sarah! Thank god! Have you seen or heard from Noah? I can't find him this morning. He left his keys and wallet, and I can't get a hold of his phone!" Remi rambled. Not breathing between words, but trying to speak fast before her voice cracks from being frightened. 

     "Wait, who is this? Who's Noah?" Sarah asked.

     "This is Remi, Noah's fiancé. Your best friend!" Remi was practically shouting into the phone.

     "I think you have the wrong number. I'm sorry."

     "This is Sarah Alby right?!"

     "Uh... yeah, but I don't know anyone named Noah. I'm sorry. Goodbye."

     Remi let the phone fall from her hand as she braced herself with her car. Turning around she goes to search his truck again for any clues, but where was it? She didn't hear it leave. Walking all the way around her car, looking under her car-even though she skew it wouldn't be there, she began to panic. There were no tire marks from his truck leaving; or entering. It was like it was never there. She tried his phone one more time.

     "I'm sorry, but the number you have dialed is no longer in service."

     Confused, and with no other options, she heads home. All the pillows and blankets were neatly folded back inside her car.

     Back at their one-bedroom ranch house, she ran up the front walkway hoping that he would be waiting for her. Unlocking the redwood front door, the throws it open. Revealing a barren house filled with her boxes. A slight knocking at the doorway interrupts her silence.

     "Ready to hit the road?" A feminine voice asks.

     "Mia!" Remi exclaims, "I can't find Noah."

     "Who?" the brunette girl asks. 

     "My fiancé!" Remi begins to cry.

     Mia walks over to Remi and comforts her. Holding Remi in her arms as Remi sinks to the ground in tears. For a short while, Mia sits with Remi and holds her, feeling her body sink into he lap with each deep heave. "Remi... baby... Noah... your fiancé." Mia pauses between each word.

     "You know where he is?!" Remi chokes as she lifts her head from Mia's lap.

     "He doesn't exist." Mia finally revealed after a long pause.

     "What?!" Remi jumps to her feet. "I just saw him!! I've been dating him for the past five years!" She pulls out her phone to show Mia pictures of them together, but there are none. Staring at her phone, she begins to aggressively scroll through her camera roll, but nothing. 

     Slowly, she lowers her phone and deeply inhales. "It must have been a dream. I guess I'm just stressed about moving to a big city."

     "Not just any big city! New York!" Mia reminds Remi as she begins to load the boxes into Remi's car. "Why wouldn't you be nervous? You shouldn't be though! You're opening up your own art gallery! And! And, you'll have some of your art displayed at The Met." Mia continues as she loads more boxes. "Plus we'll finally get to have the cross country road trip we've always dreamed about."

     Remi was able to force a small smile. "You're right! That part I definitely can't wait for." With the last box being loaded, Remi shut the back of her white SUV and walked around to the driver's seat.

     The ten-hour drive was filled with songs, gossip, and mindless chatter between the two best friends. Just as the city was transitioning from evening to night Remi and Mia pulled up in front of a brown brick building. Five cement steps lead to a black double door with golden embellishments. Remi's apartment was on the sixth floor, in a building with no elevator. The walk up the flight of stairs wasn't difficult, but she was regretting her decision after the third box. 

    After a night of unloading boxes and earning a new stair badge on their Fitbit watches the girls woke up on the floor with a box fort around them. After getting breakfast from a café next door Remi unpacked her speaker, connected her phone, and began the musical of moving in.

     Months after moving into her studio apartment in upper New York, the little furniture that she had was covered in art. Paintings in various stages sat on the couch while sculptures took over chairs, tables and the kitchen counter. Remi stood at the window with a grey cowl poncho draped over her shoulders. Her hands cupped around a homemade mug filled with a dark hot chocolate decorated with miniature marshmallows. Taking a sip from her mug she watched as the first snow of the year dusted the city around her.

     Tomorrow marked her fifth month in New York and she was already more successful than anyone expected from her. Two gallery showings have completely sold old, leaving Remi as a young millionaire. Today, she was using her new funding's to fly Mia into New York for her first show of the new year.

     In the distance, Remi could see the icon of New York, a yellow taxi, was coming into focus from the wall of cold and snow. Circling back in a store owner's driveway, the taxi flipped around before pulling in front of Remi's building. A woman with bright purple hair exited the taxi and pulled a matching purple suitcase from the cab. Suitcase in one hand, the other hand faced towards the sky in an attempt to block her from the snow falling down, the woman ran towards the front steps. Remi's bell rang.

     "So you're that girl now," Remi comments as she opens her apartment door.

     "Whatever, I've always wanted to do purple, even before it was cool."

     "That's what every girl says," Remi laughs as she outstretches her arms for a hug. "It's so good to see you, Mia." Wrapping her arms around Remi's shoulders Mia returns the comment. With the exchange completed in the doorway, Mia throws her suitcase on the beanbag Remi uses as a bed and gravitates towards a painting on the couch.

     "It looks like the overlook outside of town," Mia comments about the painting. The painting is an ombre background of purple, navy, and black. A rock fence built towards an extending balcony sits at the bottom of the canvas. In the sky were the figures of two people reaching out to hold each other. The masculine figure was a shadow in the clouds reaching up to hold a feminine outline in the stars.

     "And this one looks like the old highway." Mia continues as she points at a painting leaning against the wall. With a similar theme as the previous painting, this one showed two figures being pulled apart. The woman up to the sky and the man down to the earth.

     "The collection is called Noah's Star," Remi explains as she stands by Mia. Mia's body tenses as she walks toward the next piece; a depiction of the star figure walking down to earth.

     "What an interesting idea... where... did you come up with it?" Mia asked Remi. Remi shrugged her shoulders and began to wrap the paintings and sculptures before taking them to the van.

     The venue was filled with eager buyers and critiques waiting for an opportunity to have a moment with Remi. The walls were filled with her paintings and sculptures on granite pedestals offset the paintings. From the ceiling hung cloud lights and fairy lights. Camera flashes filled the spaces between the mob of people in the front. Remi and Mia stood arm in arm behind a large blue ribbon. Together they cut the ribbon and Mia took the buyers to look at the art while Remi answered questions from the press.

     The night was filled with slight chatter, drinking champagne, and enjoying expensive finger foods. The audience filled the venue all night. A gentle voice came over the speaker announcing that the last piece from the collection had been sold. People began to filter outside while others waited around to take their new collector's item. Remi watches as art student volunteers wrapped and prepped the art to be taken home. Remi stared at her largest piece; the one of the overlook, lost in though and saying her goodbyes to the are and a piece of her. 

     "I'm sorry," a familiar voice whispered. Snapped back to reality from her fantasy world, Remi's eyes widened. Her heart stopped and her feet felt as though they were stuck in cement. Fighting the weight of the truth she was about to face she slowly turned towards the voice. Closing her eyes and inhaling one final breath in a final attempt to brace her from the presence she was about to face.

     Face to face with her past and future she opens her eyes; "Noah?"

The Beginning of a Hero

   A dim light flickers against the cold stone walls. Smoke and embers dance from a nearby fire, filling the small cottage with an orange glow embraced in a smokey cloud. Paintings of men in battle amongst foreign symbols along the stone flare into view. Each with their own story; great wars, births of heroes and downfalls of evil are depicted from the ceiling to the floor. Crouching next to the fire, a young woman dressed in rags stirs the embers as a hog roasts over the flame. She hums a gentle melody to herself as she prepares dinner.
   Across the room, hidden behind a table filled with scrolls and books sits an elderly woman. Her face and arms covered with similar markings on the wall, the quill in hand scribbles across a paper as she screams; "No! No. No. NO! This can't be!" Mumbling an ancient language the drawings on her papers begin to appear on the wall. Skulls, flames, war, death begin to take over the other drawings. "The end is coming" the elder woman slowly breathes out as she drops to the ground.
   Rushing to her side, the young woman tries to bring her back to a sitting position. "Another vision Grandma?"
    Shakily looking at the wall the old woman replies in a hoarse voice, "Darkness is coming. A world burned black. Dark shadows cover the land; nowhere to hide." Leaning forward, she adds a star to the top of the painting. "There is a light! A child... your child." Looking at her granddaughter with soft eyes she begins to smile before her face returns to a panicked expression. "Quick! You must leave. He is coming."
   A loud knock raps on the front door; giving her grandmother one final hug, tears fill her eyes as she quickly sneaks out the side door. Jumping on a black stallion in the stables she rides away as fast as the horse can carry her. Heading up the hill near the cottage, she leaves her home and heads towards the Sacred Forest.
   A scream pierces through the valley, turning back, she catches a glimpse of her home being engulfed in flames. Three men dressed in black climb on the backs of wingless dragons and begin to head in the direction of the young woman. She kicks at her horse and races through trees, dodging branches as the wind runs through her chestnut hair. It was the last time she ever looked back.
   By nightfall, she came across a small inn on the edge of the forest. Cold and wet from the heavy rain that welcomed her she desperately hoped they had an open room. After settling her horse in the stables, she pushed open the heavy door leading to the tavern.
   The tavern was filled with men singing to lively music, drinking their money away and betting whatever remaining coin they had on their strength in an arm-wrestling match. Familiar scents of meat cooking and beer filled the tavern's thick air.
   Approaching the counter, a young man with curly brown hair turns from the bar to face her. His face had flour on the cheek and his eyes were a deep watery blue. Wiping off the sauce on his hands with an old rag he places it in the front pocket of his apron. "What can I get you?"
   "Just a bed for the night."
   "We're full for the night, but you look like you're freezing. You can come stay at my place for the night if you want. I'm just finishing my shift."
   She nods and he places his apron on a hook by the door before leading her to his cottage. A small shack behind the inn.
   Early the next morning the young woman wakes to a rooster crowing nearby; quietly she makes her way out. At the door, she turns back to the man sleeping and whispers a final goodbye. The morning air chills her breath, the dew on the grass cold on her bare feet. She climbs on her horse and begins her journey before the sun peeks over the horizon.
    For the next several months the young woman covers a lot of ground. Only stopping when she needs to. Almost at the end of her journey, she comes across a small red cottage on a mountain road. With the harsh winter winds blowing sharp ice against her skin and her now large stomach bringing pain to her back she trudges through the snow to the door. Asking for shelter from the couple whose lives there she is greeted with open arms.
   "Quick! Bring me a bowl of warm water and a towel!" Orders the lady of the house to her husband. "She's gone into labor."
   The next morning, the lady of the house holds up the new baby; handing the child to the young woman, she whispers; "It's a girl."

The River

     As he fell, he waited for the icy water to surround his body. Through the air, he felt the weightlessness of gravity pulling him towards the water's surface. On the river shore stood a group of friends, laughing, drinking, smiling and filming each other. In the air next to him, a girl. Her hair a dark brown with red highlights in the sunlight and beautiful waves that were about to be ruined by the water.
     Just as quickly as his foot had left the cliff, it was entering the cold river water. A brief glimpse of the group of friends on the shore followed by darkness as he went under the water's surface. Bubbles of air crawled up his body, trying to escape back up to the surface. Beginning to kick, he joins the rising bubbles of air to the top. Surfacing he regains his breath and looks to the girl by his side.
     Smiling and laughing she brushes her now wet hair out of her face and runs over to the group of spectators on the shore. The group plays back the video on a blue smartphone, the jump has already been immortalized on the internet.
     The rest of the afternoon is spent repeating jumps off the cliff. Some are simple, some include tricks and some jumps become competitions, but all give the teenagers the adrenaline rush that keeps them repeating the same jump. When the sun begins to set, the group begins to gather wood and logs, placing them in a fire pit near the shore. The rest of the night is filled with music, s'mores and more drinking until the sun comes up the next morning.
     The following morning the group of teens wakes up covered in ashes from the still-burning fire. Lightly brushing off the soot they begin to clean up and pack up their gear. Today they would be hiking to the next campsite.
     While the others woke up comfortably covered in soot, the boy woke up still wet. His curly hair dripping water and his skin cold from not drying off. His clothes still heavy. The fire was warm, but not enough to dry him off. He called out the leaving group to wait for him, but they didn't hear him. Frantically he looked for his dry clothes... his sleeping bag... his tent; all gone.
     Had he eaten breakfast this morning? Dinner last night? He couldn't remember. He calls out to the group again, but they're out of sight now. Still wet, he sits as close to the still-burning fire as he can, with hopes to dry off.
     Still wet, he hears voices in the distance, another group comes to the campsite.
     "Hey! Want to go swimming?" A cheerful voice shouts. The boy nods in agreement.
    Soon the waters are filled with a new group, this time they looked about college-age; only two years older than the boy.  The pattern repeated, an afternoon filled with swimming, jumping, and video filming, followed by a night of togetherness around a fire. Again, this group packed up and left the boy behind; still wet.
     For years the boy was struck in the same loop. Joining a group for swimming and campfire fun, to be left behind, and never being able to get dry. Until she came.
     A beautiful blonde girl. The last of the melting snow crunching underneath her hiking boots. Her pack was light and it became clear to the boy that she was traveling alone. She came to the edge of the river and crouched down to clean her face.
     After setting up a tent hidden in the trees she started a fire, gathered water and began to sketch in a small leather journal as she waited for the water to boil. Her sketchbook was filled with small sketches of flowers, trees, and natural scenery.
     With her water boiling now, the girl begins to make her dinner. A breeze brings a cold chill into the campsite; she knows she needs to prepare for a cold night. She was prepared for the cold, but she wasn't prepared for the rain that would come in.
     As she slept, a heavy rain came through the area. The girl woke up to her tent filled with ice-cold water. Panicked she desperately searches for dry clothing. Her tent begins to move as the ground underneath slides into the river.
     In her fluster of movements she unexpectedly finds herself outside the tent; standing on the shore as everything washes away. Cold and wet she looks around to plan out her next step.
     "Did you go swimming?" asks the boy.
     "No, my tent got washed down the river." she replies.