SUPERNOVA
The starry sky looked as shiny as someone had spread out glitter on the black velvet. The night outside the window looked glamorous, but her heart was dark and gloomy.
Looking out of the window, she saw a comet. She closed her eyes, held her hands close to her heart, and prayed, “Oh God, please make me walk again!” She looked up again, with hope in her eyes. She looked to her left, at her beautiful writing table. It was decorated with the theme of astrophotography. And then she looked at her legs. Tears fell on her legs; she wiped them, dragged her wheelchair, put her spectacles on the side table, wrapped herself with the blanket, and kept staring out of the window till she fell asleep. An old man opened the door, found her sleeping, and went away.
She exited the world of dreams when the doorbell rang. It was Sunday, and the Mailman was here to drop off the newspaper. She pushed away the blanket, put on her spectacles, and was going to put down her legs, but she couldn’t do it. She looked out of the window again. The eyes peeking from the spectacles seemed hopeless again.
Susan was a 7-year-old, brilliant girl. She lived happily with her mother and Grandpa. Her father died when she was three, and after that, her Grandpa was not only a father figure for him but her best friend and partner in crime. Whenever she used to plan something mischievous, whether it was stealing strawberries from the farm, catching sparrows, or especially talking about the stars. Susan and her Grandpa used to sit every night on the balcony and count the stars. “It’s fascinating!!”, she used to say this every time she saw the starry sky. She wished that she were born in the stars, and Grandpa always said that she would travel there one day, but before that, she had to study a lot to reach the Milky Way. A month ago from today, she was diagnosed with Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy. She kept falling in school and at home. The doctor advised some medicines, but as it was a genetic disorder, her leg muscles were too weak to recover. Yesterday, when Mama and Grandpa brought her a wheelchair, she realized that she couldn’t walk again. Grandpa dragged her wheelchair by the window and tried to talk to her, but she requested him to leave her alone just for the time.
This was the first night she didn't spend the night with stories of stars, a cup of milk, laughter and giggles, and the only friend she had, her Grandpa.
A week passed, but she wasn’t recovering and putting herself together. Her mother hired a psychiatrist for her. “Susan! I’m Peter. How are you, young lady?”
“Fiiinnnnne.”
“You go to school, right?” She nodded.
“Okay, which one?”
“The one in the next block.”
“In which grade are you?”
“Grade one.”
Although she wasn’t comfortable enough to share her feelings or emotions with a stranger, he was trying to do his job and make his patient recover from the trauma.
It was a cold, starry night. In the corner, by the window, the dim light of the lamp was twinkling like a firefly light. “Susan!” a voice echoed in her ears. “Susan! Come on, see the shooting stars outside!” her Grandpa whispered excitedly. Susan opened her eyes and got up. There was no one. She looked out of the window. The sky was apparently the same, but a different reality, just like her heart. Somebody knocked at the door. Susan looked at the clock, it struck 2 in the night. The door opened. “Are you asleep, dear?” asked Grandpa. She hid in the blanket. He smiled with a broken heart and stood by the window. “Stop peeking, if you are truly sleeping!, he said in a soft voice. Susan let her ego slide, dragged herself to the wheelchair, and drove it by the window.
Grandpa looked at her eyes; they were red and swollen behind the spectacles. He opened his mouth, but thought lecturing her wouldn’t be good right now.
“What am I gonna do if I can’t walk. How am I gonna travel the Milky Way?” she said in a cracking voice. Grandpa looked at her and sighed. He dragged the study chair beside her wheelchair and sat down.
“I’ve told you before that stars are always moving, right? It appears that they are static, but they are in constant motion. You’ve seen comets running from there, to…” he pointed in the sky and gestured at a star moving across it.
“Have you ever thought, Susan, what happens to a star when it's dying?
She shook her head.
“It becomes a SUPERNOVA”.
“What’s a SUPERNOVA, Grandpa?”
“It’s a very big explosion. All the elements inside it burst out into the space. The space lits up.”
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“And then?”
“Then, it either becomes a white dwarf or a black hole,
“It’s no longer able to give light?
“Yes, and that’s how it meets death.”
“But they live many, many years like the teacher told us once!”
“Yes, they live for billions of years. But still they have to die, Susan. It doesn’t matter how much longer you live; one has to die when the time comes.” Grandpa looked at the sky.
“It’s sad!”
“I know. But what’s more important is that, my dear, before dying, the star emits all its energy and produces massive light and gives up all its elements that may be useful to other stars or can be used in space. The SUPERNOVA is an announcement of all the accomplishments it has made throughout its life. Even a star meets a graceful and honorable death.”
She looked at her Grandpa with teary eyes.
“You’re afraid that you might die and become useless with this problem. No, Susan. Even if I agree, you may not know how long you’ll live, but my dear, thrive, and live for what you love. Don’t even think for a second that this disability would be an obstacle for you to move forward. You love stars, right?”
“Yes”
“Then be a star, Susan. Work as they do. Go to school, college, and university. Study them. Become obsessed with them. Be an astronaut or whatever you want to be, accomplish great things, and have a SUPERNOVA of your own before your time comes.”
She cried and said, “I’ll try my best, Grandpa.” He took her in his arms, and he wiped her tears.
“Okay, let’s go to sleep, it’s already late.” He put her in the bed, and she hugged her yellow star-shaped pillow with a smiley face.
“Can I see one?” she asked.
“The star?”
“No, the explosion, the SUPERNOVA!!!”, she acted with her hands and giggled.
He smiled at her innocence, “Well, it happens in billions of years; maybe you can see it when you get older.”
“Ahan.”
“Why do you wanna see it?”
“So, I can tell him that he did a great job, and we are all thankful to him for being with us for so many years.”
The conversation blurred in her memory. She was 28 now, still in a wheelchair, and received news of the death of her grandfather. Today, she was an astronomer, with the same disability she used to be afraid of. She was monitoring a star that’s going to exhibit a SUPERNOVA soon. She saw it, through screens, through instruments, and said with a sad smile.
“YOU DID A GREAT JOB. THANKS FOR BEING WITH US.”
For me, appreciation is the only motivation to write. If you like my stories, you can express your appreciation by clapping and sharing your comments, as it will be great motivation for me to grab a cup of coffee along with a pen and paper to write more emotion-rising stories for people.
“What we need is a little appreciation to progress :).”
