Glow-in-the-Dark Stars
Jade M. Wong
My 12th birthday started with a conversation that might have been a dream. I was standing
outside my parents’ room, ready to burst in with the news that today was My Birthday when I
heard their voices.
“Do you think she’ll be okay?” That was my mom.
“Shh, let’s just wait. She’ll wake up soon.” That was my dad.
The rest of the day went by in a blur. My favorite pancakes for breakfast, my party in the
afternoon, balloons getting popped accidentally, the piñata exploding with candy (that was
on purpose), and an ice cream cake of a delicious chocolate-strawberry-frosting-ratio. Before
I knew it, I was crawling back into bed, yawning as I stared up at the ceiling with my glow-inthe-dark star stickers.
The next day, things started to go missing. The band posters on my wall, I could’ve sworn
I had more. The cluttered bookshelf next to my bed, a whole shelf was bare. I flung open my
closet door, and found myself staring at empty hangers.
Breathing heavily, I ran down the hallway to my parents’ room, but it was empty. Not a
my-parents-weren’t-there-empty, but a nothing-in-it kind of empty. Their bed was gone. I
remembered my parents had a big bed with a hard mattress. I always hated that mattress
because I couldn’t bounce on it, but my parents said it was good for their backs. My mom’s
dresser table with the fancy mirror and all her different perfumes that I would try on was gone.
My dad’s polo shirts that he would hang on the side of the bedroom door were all gone.
Backing out of the room, I ran down the stairs, my hand sliding down the wooden railing
until I reached the first floor. That was when I heard my parents’ voices again.
“What do you think is going on in her mind right now?” That was my mom’s voice, coming
from the kitchen, right next to the stairs.
“I think she’s looking for us.” I heard my dad’s reply just before I pushed open the kitchen
door—to nothing. The room was gone. I was staring at white nothingness. I looked behind
me, and there was the black front door and the raggedy old mat and the stairs with the wide
wooden steps. I turned back to the kitchen and it was gone, like this part of the house was
just… erased.
My heart pounding and my head spinning, I slowly took a step back. Then another. Looking
up, I saw that the stairs now led to a floor of white nothingness. Continuing to walk backwards,
I turned to the other side of the stairs and saw the same thing happening to the dining room.
One by one, the black cushiony chairs, the long oval-shaped dining table, and the plants in the
corners were fading, getting lighter and lighter until they all became white nothingness.
Spring 2015
19