Sunday April 23, 2028
9:04pm
As far back as I can remember, Dad has stressed to me the importance of paying attention to detail. “Cass,” he’d say (I know it all word for word), “every astrophysicist knows that important breakthroughs can rest on one important yet easily overlooked clue. Most times this occurs because attention to detail went by the wayside.” That part I think I’m mastering very well. Now, for the better part of the past five years he’s been nagging about the importance of documenting everything, even the most minor things. That part I haven’t mastered, although I’m pretty good at keeping things organized in my head.
I’ve made a decision. I won’t ignore him any longer. After all, like he said, it’s a very important part of my future job duties.
So, as exocrainial organization practice, I’m taking note of my daily life. A bit late, but I’m doing it, I’m doing it. Thanks, Dad, for keeping on me about it.
First, a couple of caveats. Unlike most of my classmates, it’s not my intention to broadcast every facet of my personal life or post nudies on some blog or one of those stupid social media sites.
I don’t even have any apps. The less crap on my phone, the better. At Meredith’s sleepover a few years ago, hers and Abby’s phones buzzed all night long with app notifications. Talk about annoying. Losing sleep over one of your insomniac online “friend’s” thoughts at three in the morning. Who the hell wants that?
Also, even though none of this is for eyeballs outside of my own, things have been known to happen. So I’m going to write it as if I have an audience hanging on my every word. If something drastic happens and you’re reading this, enjoy. I think it will be easier to gather my thoughts by telling a story to someone not to myself. Don’t ask why. Should make for some interesting reading. Not.
Ok, here goes.
My name is Cass, short for Cassiopeia, my mom’s favorite constellation. For those of you who are into Greek Mythology, don’t get too excited. I am neither vain nor am I a queen.
On a side note, my mom died of cancer when I was three. I have a couple of vague visions of her. Dad talks about her every day so I feel that I know her well. She’s my diamond angel. Literally.
Back to my name. Unless you are at the very least a novice stargazer, you wouldn’t know what the heck Cassiopeia is. Mom and Dad, on their way to becoming leading and renowned astrophysicists, already had my name picked out before they finished graduate school together.
I’m not going to go into great detail about the Cassiopeia constellation because once I start, I might not finish until morning. If someone was looking for a renowned expert on it, they’d be hard pressed to find somebody with more knowledge than myself. For my thumbs’ sakes, I’ll give you the abbreviated version. It’s composed of five main stars in the shape of a ‘W’. At least that’s what it looks like from Earth. It’s also why Dad calls me “Five Brights”.
Anything else you want to know about Cassiopeia? Use your favorite search engine.
Onward toward my love life.
I have a boyfriend. His name is Robbie. We’ve been together nearly three years. As you might expect, I love him and he loves me. Like me, he’s an aspiring astrophysicist. We’re kinda following the same track as Mom and Dad. Hopefully, without the cancer thing. I go for checkups every six months per Dad’s instructions. One time, the doctor had to remove a suspicious mole. As a result, I try not to spend much time in the sun. Anyway, Robbie’s brilliant. And so cute! I’ll tell you more about him later.
Robbie left about an hour ago. We had planned a night at the observatory to work on one of Dad’s pet projects, but we barely started before I noticed something was up with him. He seemed preoccupied. Probably thinking about the big day tomorrow. I don’t blame him. After it was obvious tonight’s work would be a bust, I finally said let’s go. He dropped me off and I’m writing about it. Oh well. Can’t wait until tomorrow!
Until then…
Monday April 24
6am
I must be crazy. Who in their right mind writes this early? Oh well.
Holly, my English Shepherd, woke me with her slobbery kisses. I can never get angry at those brown eyes. I wonder if she knows I’m 18 today. I don’t feel so much a woman, but I’ll take whatever nature doles out. Right now, I’m a little lacking on the topside. Enough about that, though.
Gotta hurry up. Robbie will be here before I know it. I’m crossing my fingers for what the day has in store. Senior year sure hasn’t disappointed. Keep it up, girl! Cheers.
5:30pm
Robbie didn’t talk much on the way to school. Same as last night. I get it. Like me, he’s probably thinking about exams coming up. He’s more of a worry wart than I am, though. A brilliant one at that. It bothers me that he worries, but I just love the cute little line that forms on his forehead when he does.
Another guess hit me before we got out of his truck: maybe he thinks I won’t like his gift. Immediately, I told myself, “Don’t be silly, Cass. He knows you’ll like it.”
At school: The morning hallway was buzzing with lots of birthday greetings from my classmates. Meredith even stopped and said it, a little sheepishly at that. Abby’s greeting seemed more genuine. I wish we were all on better terms. I’ve tried in the past, but it was always awkward. Maybe I’ll try to open up a real communication line with some less awkward texts. Nah. I have no social identity to speak of at this point so that’s out.
Oh! Gary kinda creeped me out again. He just stared at me in the hallway for the longest time before saying happy birthday. I think he finally got the message because he isn’t bugging me as much in the past few weeks. I haven’t told Robbie about his antics because I’d feel a little bad if he beat up Gary. I don’t want all that drama anyway. I’ll handle it on my own.
Nothing else happened at school other than my planned lunch with Robbie falling through because he had to talk to a counselor at the last minute. Oh well. I’ll get some one-on-one time with him after the party. Crap! It’s getting late.
10:30pm
Party’s over. Robbie texted beforehand saying he’d be a little late. Since when is a whole hour regarded as a little late? Felt like forever. Holly didn’t even greet him when he got here. Something was definitely bothering him, but I didn’t press it in front of the others. His face looked a little worn. Maybe those late nights spent at the observatory are taking a toll. I practically shoved him out my door to go home and get some sleep.
Party was okay. I don’t know why I even thought of having people over. Gary crashed it and smooth talked his way into my letting him stay. Everybody stuck to his or her little group. It felt weird walking around and greeting them, seeing the looks of bother when their eyes rose from their phones. It’s like nobody physically knows anybody anymore. When their eyes weren’t glued to their phone screens most of the guests played with Holly while making small talk. Not many offered much eye contact. Except Gary. I’m still glad they came. Except Gary.
Oh, Robbie’s gift! He gave me a silver bracelet with charms dangling from the band in the shape of the seven closest galaxies. Andromeda is so awesome! I love it! Dad thought it was cool, too. He took a picture so he could show his colleagues. Astrophysicists go nuts over stuff like that.
Robbie put so much thought into the bracelet. He loves me and I love him so much!
Side note: Gary bombarded me with quotes from Carl Sagan all evening. I wish he wouldn’t do that. He thinks he’s so sly.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
Monday May 1
10:24pm
I know. It’s been a week. I promise I haven’t been slacking. I’ve been busy. So busy I haven’t seen much of Robbie. Plans, plans, and more plans. Only time for one night at the observatory. He’s been studying for exams. Me: not so much. I’m sure I’ll do fine. I know I’ve said it hundreds of times since January, but could senior year have gone any better? It’ll never get old to say it. Or write it.
I’m seven days past my eighteenth birthday already, with just a couple weeks to go before a summer of lounging with Holly by the pool during the day followed by stargazing and working on equations with Robbie at night. I’m always giddy and I can’t keep from smiling. When I read the equations to myself, it’s in his voice.
He seems a little more relaxed even with exams coming up next week. Or maybe it’s because his birthday is tomorrow. I can’t wait.
The Crab Nebula painting I did for him looks okay, I guess. Dad says it’s good, but I don’t know. Dads will say anything to pump up their princesses. The painting is just the beginning of the rest of my plans. Let’s see, a hug and a kiss when he picks me up for school. On the way there, some touchy feely action in all the right places. Give him a primer for what’s in store tomorrow night.
George cut the grass on the hill outside the observatory, the blanket is ready, and the wine is chilling. Drinking white wine under the Milky Way while I finally give myself to him: celestial perfection. No clouds in sight, either. A celestial trifecta.
Did I mention that I can’t wait?
Tuesday May 2
6:37am
The start of a big day. Leading into an even bigger night! I don’t care if IT hurts. I’ll force myself to enjoy it because it’s an act of love. Like the song goes, “Love Hurts”. Okay, that was lame.
He’ll be here in twenty minutes. I crimped my hair special because I know he likes it that way. I bet he’ll like my roaming hands even more. I’m so excited. What an awesome beginning to the last two weeks of senior year! Except for exams, of course. Get through next week and summer begins.
Ah, summer. Working on our projects together, lots more fooling around, and then off to the university. Together. No coed living, though. Not yet anyway.
He’s here early! Gotta run.
11:21pm
Dad’s calling again. Third time.
There’s a spot in the universe astronomers have dubbed the Boötes void. 300 million light years of absolutely nothing in all directions. Only darkness resides there. In fact, most astronomers know it as the Great Nothing. Right now, my heart is literally the Boötes void. Yep, my Great Nothing is extending millions of light years away from the lighted clusters of my internal organs. My universe is steadily losing its light. I’m so cold.
Where are my endless tears coming from? I haven’t cried in fifteen years. Is there a reserve inside of me that’s taken that long to overflow? My stomach is a knot. The water I sipped a few minutes ago just splashed back onto the floor. I’ve never known this kind of misery. I was too young to realize it when Mom died.
Holly’s paws scratch at the bathroom door. I’ve already told her to go away twice. When she whines, I cry even more. Sorry, girl. It’s gonna be a mess. Too much to let you in.
In the movies, they’re always in a tub filled with steaming water. It’s just as foggy in here, too. So much so, I can’t even see the door. My skin crawls with cold goosebumps as the hot water opens up my pores.
If you haven’t guessed yet, I’ll be joining Mom soon, but not until I punish myself by reliving this day one last time. It’ll make me want to do it even more. One last time and my misery will have evolved into pure bloodlust. I only wish the volume of blood that will soon be pouring from my wrists was enough to fill the tub so I can bathe in my own warmth for at least the minute it takes to drain my last thought. Why hasn’t the hot water surrounding me done anything to kill the coldness inside of me?
Just a couple of quick slashes in the right spots. Why do I cringe that it’s gonna hurt? Funny. I expected a different kind of pain right about now. And just a bit of blood. Rolling around on the blanket. With him. That thought no longer resides in this universe. No, the pain I seek will hurt for just a minute. But even the pain of slashed wrists or doing it for first time doesn’t come close to the pain within me. I hurt so much. Even my face aches because the shocked grimness won’t leave the muscles in my cheeks and forehead.
Dad’s calling again. I already put it on vibrate. I’d drop it in the tub, but I want to keep telling my story to the end. Don’t forget to stamp the screen with one last bloody fingerprint. It’s so irritating because his calls screw up my phone screen keyboard. I wish Holly would go lie down.
I’ve gone over today’s disaster so many times in my head. Robbie’s silence on the way to school. How he pushed away my roving hands. Not jokingly. Seriously. I didn’t ask him what was wrong because I’m such a weak fool. Why did I ignore what was right in front of me? I probably could have stopped it more times than I can count.
The ring. All I keep seeing is the Crab Nebula carved in that wretched stone. His favorite nebula inside his favorite color. Around his finger. I hate that finger! And those grubby hands I used to hold. The pause of my own heart when I realized someone else had already taken his away from me. Now I’m going to pause everything. For good.
But who is she? I still don’t know. I didn’t ask. Instead, I foolishly begged him to stay with me. I even told him the plans I made for his birthday including my intentions to give my whole self to him. I’m such a fool. He didn’t even bat an eye at that revelation. What his eyes did show was surprise at my childishness. A dad’s disappointed look. I’ve never seen that look on his face. He no longer wants me in even that way. Was I always just a child to him? I clutched his hand in the hopes that I could stop time, but all I felt was that ring.
My knotted gut wrenches when I heave. I want it all gone. I want to feel relief.
I hate the Crab Nebula. I hate that he loves astronomy. He killed every ounce of my interest in it. I hate him!
Three years and eight days ago, I saw his smile for the first time on my fifteenth birthday. He was the best gift ever. I felt reborn. It’s fitting that his absence takes my life with it.
For three years and eight days, I put my social life on hold. I swept Meredith and Abby into the dustbin and replaced them with Robbie, my new best friend. I know they won’t take me back. Why would they? I doubt they will even cry at my funeral.
We fell in love so fast, both of us holding hands as we walked the same path our feelings laid out before us. At what point did it end for him and how could I have been so obtuse to not notice?
I reject the idea of ignoring him every night at the observatory. Not after this. I can’t bear the humiliation of seeing him with her or his thinking the same thoughts about her as he did me. I can’t stand the simple thought of her, whoever she is. Catching a whiff of her perfume on him. Seeing his hands, the ones I used to hold that she now gets to hold. Is he with her right now? Slow down, you fool. Make it last. It’ll be over soon enough. But it’s so invigorating. I feel the light inside of me grow until it will evaporate the moment I slash. I long to see the flash as I slash.
I also can’t abandon my work for Dad and keep breathing. And I know he won’t fire the jerk even if I begged him. I couldn’t do that to his professional friendship with Robbie’s dad. I refuse to live a life on those terms. How could he force me to do this?
Even though I’m crying so hard, a strange joy rises within me the longer I clench the blade. With its opening of my skin, I expect a great release. I smile at the way it flashes in the bathroom light. Through my blurry eyes. Just like his crummy ring.
I wish the blade were a dagger so I could plunge it deep into my chest. One twist to unleash the coldness of my heart, to feel it shiver from the point up the blade into the handle and through my clenched fingers. But I’ll accept this loss. Two deep slashes will have to do.
I’m ready. It was nice knowing you, Robbie. And whoever you’re with. I hope you read this and remember it word for word every single day for the rest of your miserable life. Traitor.
Just take a few deep breaths and go for it.
Ugh. Dad’s texting now. Heavy feet - not Holly’s - walking down the hall. What the hell is so important?
Wednesday May 3
12:19am
I can’t believe this shit! Just a few minutes ago, I’m ready to end my miserable life and now I actually care enough to be scared shitless. My clothes stick to the water left on my skin and my wet hair has soaked a streak down the back of my shirt. It’s so gross and annoying. I’m angry enough that I’m finally warm.
I’m sliding around in the backseat next to Holly as Dad’s driver, Ray, speeds us to the observatory where Dad’s waiting. The suitcases keep banging against my left leg. I still don’t know what the rush is. I wish he’d taken the time to put them in the trunk. Wait, there’s three. I know I only packed two. Probably, Ray’s. Hmm, the head of a passenger in the front seat just came into view. Blonde wavy hair.
Holly’s wagging her tail. Ugh! You have GOT to be shitting me! That SOB Robbie is sitting up there! He offered a weak wave and said, “Hi, Cass,” but I just gave him a dirty look and typed ‘asshole’ several times before deleting. My tears are finally gone and in their place is a good dose of dagger eyes. He got the message and turned his pathetic ass back around. Happy birthday, jerkoff. I’m sorry. I miss you so bad! Please come back! Shut up, you weak fool!
Just keep tapping the onscreen keyboard, Cass. Ignore him and your aching heart. More anger, please.
I haven’t yet caught my breath from my mad rush to pack. I threw in whatever clothes I could find, both Dad’s and mine. I hope I got at least some of the right ones for him. What am I talking about? He wears the same shit every day.
Ray knows nothing. I must have asked him ten times. I’m surely not going to ask the jerk sitting next to him. I tried calling Dad, but now he’s the one not answering. I’m pretty sure he’s fine. If he wasn’t, why would he ask me to pack his clothes, too? And why did he put so much emphasis on digging out our winter coats? Ray didn’t have an answer for that, either. It’s so hard to tap the keys with the damn suitcases slamming into me.
We’re coming up on the observatory. Looks busy. There are several cars parked outside. Some familiar, most not. People rushing around the cars carrying their own suitcases. They’re all going toward the entrance. What the hell?
Holly’s whining through the window at Dad, who’s out on the sidewalk waving us into a handicapped spot. The look on his face tells me a parking citation is the least of his worries. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that much tension on his face.
I have to ask him what’s going on. Wait. The sky looks weird.