Page 5 of Above
“My throat is sore, but otherwise it wasn’t too bad today. The cold is passing, I think.” With a smile that made Celeste and I groan, he grabbed our mother by the hips and forced her onto his lap. “I missed you.”
“Okay you two, break it up,” Celeste said, waving her hands at them. For a second we all laughed, happiness there and gone in a flash. We didn’t often feel such joy anymore. Things had become too hard. Too unsure. Too much.
Just like that, the aura of the room changed, and life was once more heavy.
“So,” Mama started, her eyes almost instantly watering. Dad held her tight, refusing to let her off his lap as she spoke. “Your father and I have been talking about the future, especially with his health.”
That was when I realized what they had decided.
Dad had not always been a paraplegic. In fact, when I was ten, he had trained for races when he wasn’t working his job as a carpenter or telling us stories of before the wars. We had not been wealthy by any means, but we were far better off than many. And more than that, Dad was well.
Then one day, seemingly out of nowhere as he was running through the house chasing Celeste and I, the lower portion of his spine shattered.
The neighbors said the stars themselves punished him. The eadi menders feared he was an omen. All I knew at that moment was that the starsdidmake mistakes.
Of course, Dad was ever the optimistic ray of sunshine. He did his therapy diligently and, despite his and Mama’s savings quickly dwindling, he genuinely believed things would be okay. But eadi weren’t allowed to have an education beyond the basics. They weren’t given the chance to have high paying jobs or to do more than what shaytan considered lowly work.
If only the core families realized that the work they didn’t want to do was what kept Dajahim afloat.
But Dad did what he could. Until he started taking haya. That was when we learned that, while it extends life, haya destroysthe user. It causes them to slowly, painfully deteriorate. So when Mama opened her mouth, I knew exactly what she would say.
“We’ve decided to stop using haya,” Mama finally whispered.
Silence invaded the space like a shaytan war—attacking my senses without mercy. I felt suffocated by it as my eyes flicked between my mother’s grey ones and my father’s honey ones. A single tear rolled down my cheek at the exact moment that one broke free of Mama’s waterline, and I knew then that I would burn the entire world to the ground before I lost them.
“Absolutely not,” I hissed, my back straightening.
“It’s not your choice, Nova,” Mama shot back, her tone colder now.
“The fuck it isn’t! I’m a part of this family too, and I say no!”
Celeste grabbed my arm, tugging me back and stopping me from doing something truly stupid. Like strangling my parents for daring to leave me.
“Don’t speak to your mother that way!” Dad’s voice boomed like thunder, not as sharp as my mother’s, but just as demanding. Somehow, the deep tone was comforting despite the clear order. It was nice that, despite our age, we still lived like a family full of youth and promises. Only fresh starts and potential—though we’d never have either if they stopped haya.
I couldn’t lose them. I simply couldn’t.
“Please, give me time to figure something out. I can do this.”
I moved closer to the pair, and just like that, I was ten years old again, begging at the foot of my father’s bed that the stars would have mercy. Little did I know that fifteen years later their mercy would come, and it would also be a punishment.
“Starlight, please, see reason.” Dad’s hand slowly reached out, his words caressing my cheek moments before his hand did. Just like all those decades ago, I fell to my knees and let my clasped hands rest upon him.
“Just give me a year,” I begged.
“We’re in pain, Nova,” Mama whispered. “Dad is in pain.”
Tears poured down my cheeks, mingling with the snot that dripped from my nose. I looked pathetic, but I wouldn’t stop groveling.
I just needed some more time.
“Fine, give me until I get into Elite Academy. Iwillget the shadows. Please stay until then. All I ask is that you see me graduate and become an elite.”
Behind me, I felt Celeste’s hands rest on my shoulders. As much as we argued, we always found a way to be a unit. Her knees were quieter as they met the wooden floor, the only sound that of my sobs as she wrapped her arms around me.
If they quit haya, she would too. They would all cease to exist. They’d leave me.
“Please.” Was I asking my parents? Celeste? The stars themselves? I didn’t know. All I could do was continue to plead.
