If you can look at the sky and find Cassiopeia, I believe in you, you can prove fairy tales.
***
In which The Universe recounts the story of the girl who fell off from fairy land.
[TROPHIES]
1st place, short story genre of THE WINNER AWARDS
1st plac...
"Because I wish so." His words cut deep into her heart, so stoic and cold.
Cassiopeia knew joining the military would mean inevitable death.
"But," she clasped her heart. "You're too young..."
"Stop daydreaming Cassiopeia. I'm fifteen, old enough to start the training."
Cassiopeia noticed how heavy his voice was becoming. Gregory was becoming a man with a thin line of moustache above the Cupid's bow that Cassie had always wanted to touch but never dared to. Patches of hairs were emerging on his chest. He looked more appetizing.
In an instant, Cassiopeia's lofty dreams were broken just how stars break and crash every now and then. It was such a blasphemy to regard Cassiopeia to a star.
Gregory would go away, how would Cassiopeia live?
Stabbing the sadness in her heart, she retreated out of Gregory's room.
"Cassiopeia?" Greg called from back and she stopped. How much she hated when Greg called her by her full name!
"Is your mother home?" He asked.
Without turning, she answered, "Yes."
That way, she left for Grandma Aster's home. She was the only witness of all of Cassiopeia's sorrows.
That evening when Cassiopeia met Estevan in the woods, she wanted to pull away from his touch and curl up in a corner to cry.
"Love," Estevan moaned as he moulded her breasts in firm, efficient hands. She tried her best to squirm away but Estevan's hands were stronger.
"You don't love me," she murmured as she visualized Gregory in the uniform carrying guns.
He was looking handsome with moustache and all. On his chest was the badge of the Royal British Army. He was riding a horse, his booted legs were dangling with pride.
Suddenly a roar erupted. A bullet passed his chest. Blood sprinkled everywhere. Blood, maroon blood. Darker than sin. Blood, endless blood. Gregory fell down from the horse.
Blood.
"You don't."
"
Huh?" Estevan looked at her doubtfully. "What are you talking about, love?"
"Nothing."
Estevan chuckled smuggishly. "Am I pleasuring you right love?"
Love. Love.
When the word love came out of Estevan's mouth, it sounded so hateful.
She must go home.
___________
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