❝I've loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.❞
-Galileo

***

Maybe if people opened their eyes once in a while, they would see that life is rather beautiful. Life is sad, too. Don't start off thinking I believe that life is a bundle of sunshine and rainbows, for it's not, but it's not terrible. People go through things, not realizing that someone is always going through something worse. There is a rainbow at the end of the rain, and I encourage you to not give up over matters that will eventually pass. I wish I could tell so many people that. I wish I could have told my uncle that, but it's too late.

The clouds are crying as my family and I stand next to one another, the rain pouring onto us as we watch the black coffin ease down inside of the freshly dug grave. He had one pistol, he had one bullet, he had one thing on his mind. He thought that was the only way out, not realizing how much it would hurt and effect everyone around him. My mother is sobbing into my father's arms, my sister is crouching in the mud as she tells him her last goodbyes, and my tears are mixing with the rain as it continues to fall. A bleak morning to honor a dark day. All because my aunt left him, left him for a younger version of David Beckham, and he didn't think there was anything left to live for.

But there was. We were what was left, and we were worth living for. One soul is worth enough to live for, for if you have one person that cares about you, you can get through anything.

Life was beautiful for Uncle Edmund, only he didn't see the beauty, only the pain. For if there is a lot of good and only a fractional piece of bad, everyone focuses on the bad instead of the good that's around them. I've found myself guilty of this many times, but I've forced myself to dwell on other things, for what is moping and hurting going to help? It only lessens your joy until you have nothing left. Nothing but one bullet and one thing on your mind.

I could curse Uncle Edmund out. If he were next to me, I'd tell him everything I could think of, which would land me getting my mouth washed out with soap. I wouldn't care, however, I would just want to ask him what was so worth it that he had to leave all of us behind? Was Aunt Margaret that important that he couldn't live without her, that he'd rather die than be without her?

When I think of it that way, it's almost beautiful in itself. He would rather die than live without her. That shows you how much a person can truly love another person. And he did love her, he loved her with everything that was inside of him, only she didn't feel the same. It wasn't even a secret, for everyone could tell that she was done with him. I hope she feels guilty, for she's the cause of all of this. I don't even care how that sounds.

I look up, the rain washing into my vision as I find Aunt Margaret among the crowd. Her eyes are bloodshot, her body is trembling — from the cold or loss, I can't tell — and her lips are moving with whatever it is she's saying. She's trying to make peace, but there is no peace to be made. She doesn't deserve to grieve, she doesn't deserve the hugs she's getting. Life was beautiful for Uncle Edmund, but Aunt Margaret had to show him that life can be sad, that life can suck the joy from you, that life can even take you. She did all of this, and for that, I will forever despise her.

My thoughts are on my uncle as I walk away from the scene. My thoughts are on how he was probably crying, how he may have even called Aunt Margaret to tell her what he was going to do. Was he scared? Was he so focused on her that his senses were numb?

I let out a sob, tired of holding everything back as I walk to my truck and conceal myself from the pouring rain. He had so much to live for, he had so many years left, he was so vigilant and happy. He was one of the greatest humans I had ever met in my life. A role model, a friend. I can already feel a piece of me being washed away with the rain. A piece of me that's gone and that will likely never come back.

Life is beautiful, like I said, but sometimes it really sucks. Sometimes, it feels like there is no happiness to this end, sometimes it feels like you can't even lift your head to get on with your day. Today is all those emotions, today is all that sadness, today is all that pain. However, it will all get better. It always does. I just need to keep reminding myself and my family that Uncle Edmund is in a better place. He has no pain, he has no heartbreak. He's up there among the stars where he deserves to be.

I send him a prayer, before wiping my eyes and turning up the heat as I pull out of the cemetery and make my way home.

**********

If I were my parents, I wouldn't make myself attend school today. Not only was Uncle Edmund one of my most favorite humans that ever lived, school is not really very fond of me. By that, I mean I'm picked on, I'm tore down, people call me names, people push me around. I don't understand the need to be ignorant to someone who's never done a single thing to you, but that only shows I don't have that kind of mindset. It will probably be even worse today with my uncle's obituary all through the papers. It was just yesterday that I watched his coffin ease into his grave. Yesterday, yet it already seems so far away.

My parents do, however, make me go to school. Now when I say life is beautiful, there is no way I'm talking about school. School can be wonderful, for learning is necessary, but the people inside of the building is what makes me detest it. Always tearing one another down, always making people around them victims. Welcome to high school, the biggest hell on this planet.

School would be wonderful if it weren't for the people inside. It's the people inside that don't believe life is beautiful. It's the people inside that look through different spectacles when they walk through the glass doors. It's those people that spread their hatred throughout other people and cause everyone to hate the marvelous thing called life.

I know what sadness and heartache is, trust me, so when I say life is beautiful and when I find the rainbow at the end of the rain, anyone can. People don't know what I've been through, they just assume I'm picked on at school, have a family member die every now and then, but that's not all that I've gone through. Life is beautiful, but like I've said, it can also be very painful. I know so much pain, but there is a greater good that outlasts the pain, and that's what keeps me going.

There are some things that I wish I would never have to repeat in life, and every day it's getting out of my rusty pickup truck and walking into class. It's as if I'm a new student everyday, for they're always a few pairs of eyes that watch me as I walk in, watch me as I walk to my locker, watch me as I walk to class. Maybe it's not me, maybe it's not how I dress or what I drive, maybe it's the fact that I have a few tears falling down my face today. Maybe it's the fact I've lost one of my best friends and my parents think I'll just get over it. Maybe that's it. Maybe that's the reason for the looks today, but the other days, why would they stare then?

I wipe my eyes as quickly as I can, ashamed that I can't just forget about reality for a few hours. However, isn't school the biggest reality check there is? It's always bringing up everything you wish to push down inside. Again, it's the people that walk these halls. They suck the joy from you right under your nose and you can't even tell half of the time that they're doing it. Not only that, but somehow, somewhere, they suck the happiness from you without your consent. I've read a quote a while ago, that said something along the lines of people not being able to hurt you without your consent. I say that's a load of bull, for who would consent to that? Sometimes people make you hurt, sometimes they make you feel inferior, and it is most definitely not because you consented to how they're treating you. If that was the case, I would never be sad again.

I hurry off to class, trying to forget the stares I receive as I pass through the crowd, my cheeks stained with tears. I know I'm going to hear about this from someone, I know I'm going to get laughed at for crying in school, I know that today is going to suck, but I also know that I'll be all right. I'll push through this hellish day, these stares, this pain. I'll push through it all. There is a rainbow after the rain, I just need to find it. I need to find my happiness, for that is what I should focus on. After all, isn't Uncle Edmund happy now? He's on Cloud 9 — literally — and maybe that's what he needed. I am not at all condoning suicide, for it hurt like hell to find out we weren't enough to keep him happy, I'm just hoping he's happy now. He deserved it, out of everyone on this God forsaken planet— besides Maya — he deserved to know happiness. This doesn't mean I've forgiven him just yet for leaving me, but it does keep me going to know that perhaps he's found his happy place.

I can't focus on this history lesson of former Presidents, for my mind is too wrapped up in the weekend I've had. I try to tell everyone else to focus on the good, that there is always someone else going through something worse, and I believe that 100%. I believe that there is a person out there, right now, that is going through something terrible and horrible, something that I, myself, will never know. I'm thankful I will never know pain like that, but it's harder to believe that when it's you going through something.

I have a friend, Maya, and occasionally I have to tell her this. I tell her it's going to be okay, for tomorrow is another day. Tomorrow is a new start, and there is someone out there that is having a worse day than you ever will. However, she doesn't take kindly to these words, and I usually get cussed out for saying such things. No matter what she tells me, cursing or not, I always manage to get a smile out of what I tell her. That's how I know my words affect her. That's why I tell myself the same thing, only sometimes it doesn't work. Sometimes, the pain is too thick and drowns my vision from finding the rainbow through the rain. I know it's there, however, I just need to wipe the rain away and search for it.

My rainbow in school, is Maya. We fight all the time, and we barely get along, but I love her. I love her so much, and not for what she looks like or what she wears, I love her for being herself and not caring about what anyone thinks of her. She'll come to school sometimes, in Halloween costumes, claiming it's never too early to celebrate the holiday. Or, she'll show up with some wild outfit, it always having more glitter on it than necessary. I don't mind, though, for she is my absolute bestest friend, and I accept her wholly. Crazy outfit and crazy personality.

Our fellow classmates aren't as accepting of her clothes as I am. They'll call her childish, tell her to grow up, but I can guarantee that if just one of those bullies knew all that has happened in her life, they would shut up about it. Maybe that's why she always cusses me out, for she knows pain that I never will, being the perfect example of how certain people go through things much worse than what others do. I will never know pain like Maya, but that doesn't mean I'll stop telling her what I do. That doesn't mean I'll stop trying to convince her about the rainbow. She's my rainbow, and I can only hope that I'm hers.

We don't have any classes together this semester, which sucks big time. We've always had classes together, ever since first grade, which makes the first semester of senior year not as exciting as we were hoping. Ever since we could remember, we wanted to grow up and get out of this school. We wanted to start fresh somewhere, a place where no one knew our names. A place where we could be anything we wanted to be — Maya dreams of being an astronaut, while I dream of being a spacecraft engineer — a place where we would never be laughed at again. Perhaps our dreams are a bit childish, perhaps they're far fetched, but name one person that has never had a wild dream. It's impossible, for we all were children once, and we all wanted to have a job that would make a difference and change lives. Maybe an astronaut and spacecraft engineer won't change too many lives, but it will change Maya's and mine. We may be best friends, but we have nothing at all in common. Nothing, except our love for the stars.

When Maya and I were little — even now we'll do this on occasion, if there's to be a meteor shower or a sighting of Jupiter, or just for the heck of it — we would climb out of my window-door with as many pillows and blankets as we could find in my room, and make ourselves comfortable on my balcony. We would pretend we were lying on the roof, my house a rocket blasting us into space, for if we looked into the sky at a certain angle, it seemed as if the stars were coming toward us. She was Astronaut Maya, and I was Engineer Clark — how original — and she was there to explore, while I was there to fix up her rocket whenever it needed repairs. Even during playtime, I always promised that whenever she was with me, I wouldn't let anything happen to her. Ten years later, whenever we sit out on that same balcony and watch those same stars, I still make her that promise. She will never feel hurt as long as I can help it, and all those that make fun of her will feel my wrath, for as long as I live, I will never stop standing up for her. I will never stop fighting for her. I will never stop protecting her.

Some things I can't save her from. I can't always be there, especially when she goes home. I can't protect her there, but I wish I could. I wish I could take her away from her awful parents and have her live with me. It's not as if she hasn't stayed at my house countless times already, for I love when she stays. We'll lie on my bed and name the first ten things that come into our mind that make us happy. She's always the first on my list, and I'm always the first on her list. However, by the time we're done naming off things that make us happy, we're most likely arguing. We argue more than anything, for we're complete opposites, but that's just part of our relationship. It's not as if we ever get into a terrible fight, it's mostly just playful banter. I've never known her any other way, and I wouldn't want to change anything, except take her away from her home. Someday, I will take her away from here, and we'll move to Florida to work at NASA. I'll fix her rocket, and she'll explore space, while talking to me over the radio and telling me how much more beautiful the stars are in person. However, I don't think anything could possibly be more beautiful than her, and when she tells me this about the stars, I'll tell her that about herself. I've always wanted to tell her I've thought she was far more beautiful than the stars — despite her being my star — but I never have. I'm almost afraid she'd start swinging after calling me a liar. I would never lie to her, though, and she knows this.

The bell eventually rings, bringing me back to earth. I need Maya right now, more than I've ever needed her, and I decide to go find her. I don't care if I'm late for a class, I don't really care about anything, except giving her a hug. No matter our arguments, no matter our dreams, there is nothing like a Maya Hug. She uses both of her arms, and I love that.

I wipe the stray tears away, my soul still hurting from my passing uncle — this is a pain I know will take forever to heal — as I shove my way through the crowd. She'll be at her locker, I know she will, and there is nothing at all like the relief I feel, when I see her standing there. She wasn't unlocking the combination, she wasn't putting her books inside, she wasn't even holding her books. All she was doing, was leaning up against her locker, her body clad in bright green corduroy overalls that had sparkles on the middle pocket. Her hair was wild like usual, her makeup was little to none, and I don't think she's ever looked as beautiful in my entire life of knowing her as she does right now.

Before I'm even able to get a word out, her arms are around my waist, hugging me tightly. As I hug her back, the tears resurfacing in my eyes, I know why she was just leaning against her locker. She was waiting for me, waiting to tell me my rainbow would come, waiting to tell me someone was going through something far worse. I always told her to tell me that, to tell me what I tell her, for I believe it's true, and if you believe in something, somehow, it will make you feel better. She doesn't tell me my rainbow will come, however, nor does she tell me someone is going through something worse. She doesn't tell me what I always tell her to tell me, and for some reason, it makes me cry harder. It makes me cry harder, for it almost feels better not to hear that, but that doesn't mean it wouldn't lift me up slightly.

I can only imagine the looks we're getting as we stand in the middle of the hall, while I cry on her shoulder, but I don't even care. I have needed a Maya hug for a few days, and it was almost worth the wait. "I'm sorry I didn't come," she tells me after a moment, her voice slightly shaky. That was another thing we have in common, if one of us ends up crying, both of us most likely do, too. "I didn't have a ride, Dad was drunk, Mom was off somewhere. I didn't even know where the cemetery was. I was going to hitchhike, but I didn't, and I'm sorry. I should have been there." She was crying now, her voice cracking and her body trembling. She didn't need to explain to me, I already understood.

"It's okay," I tell her, after we finally let go of one another, giving us a chance to wipe our eyes. "I understand."

"No," she contradicts me. "It's not okay. One of your most favorite people ever, took their own life. I should have been there, holding your hand and promising your rainbow was going to come soon."

"If you were there," I tell her, my voice slightly more composed. "My rainbow would have already came."

With this, she cries even harder, and it's me comforting her this time. I then wonder what she went through this weekend, but I don't ask. If she wants me to know, she'll tell me. Instead, we stand there in silence, the only noise is her sniffling and my hand patting her back. It is the first time I have ever told her she was my rainbow, and I can only hope she believes me. If I could hand her the world, I would, but not even the world is good enough for her, for she deserves the universe.

***
I really hope everyone enjoys this story as much as I've enjoyed writing it. So, this is the first chapter and I hope you all stick with it till the end! :) Vote and comment, please!