Echoes of Starlight: My Own Guardian

Boyd stumbled in late, reeking of cheap liquor. A violent argument erupted next door. June’s voice. "Help me." A sickening thud. Silence swallowed her cries. Minutes dragged.

Heavy boots shuffled to my door. "Sloane," Boyd murmured. "You asleep?" Bang. Dead weight slammed the wood. Bang.

I snatched scissors off my bookshelf and scrambled onto the window seat. My knuckles brushed soft plush. Silas. The blue teddy bear June bought me for my birthday.

His glass eyes snapped open. A fuzzy paw pressed my collarbone. "Don't answer." A low voice grated against my ear. Chapter 1 Boyd plunged his hands into my aquarium.

He yanked my goldfish out, one by one, and hurled them onto the cold tiles. He roared with laughter as he watched them thrash and suffocate on the floor.

I stayed frozen in my bedroom. Completely useless. Soon, guttural snores echoed from the living room couch. The bedroom door creaked open. June slipped inside.

I squeezed my eyes shut. Played dead. Her trembling fingers brushed my cheekbones, searching for dampness.

Searching for tears. "Sloane," she breathed out a shattered sigh. "I'm going to leave him. I promise." I didn't make a sound. I knew the routine.

The sun would rise, Boyd would flash his charming smile, and June would cave. The cycle never stopped. I replayed that night in my head a million times. If only I hadn't cried.

A loud argument came from the other bedroom.

June's voice, usually so quiet, tore through the house. "How could you touch Sloane—she is my daughter!" A glass vase exploded against the floorboards.

June's scream hit me right in the chest. My eyes snapped open. I vaulted off the mattress and slammed my weight against the bedroom door, frantically twisting the knob. Jammed.

June locked it from the outside. Trying to keep me out of the crossfire. I tore through my desk drawers. Digging for my phone. Empty. A massive crash shook the drywall next door.

Then—dead, suffocating silence. Heavy boots thumped against the floorboards. Matching the erratic hammering in my chest. Closer. Closer.

He stopped right outside my room. "Sloane," Boyd asked, his voice very soft. "You asleep?" The floorboards creaked as he shifted his weight. Then, the footsteps retreated.

Fading down the hall. My lungs finally pulled in air. SMASH. SMASH. Wood splintered. A dead weight slammed heavily against the door frame. My throat closed up.

I snatched my desk scissors and scrambled backward onto the window seat. My trembling hand bumped into something soft. Silas.

The blue teddy bear. "Hug him," June told me two years ago. "He'll keep the monsters away." But the monster was at my door. Crack. The door frame buckled.

A sliver of hallway light cut through the dark. A bloodshot eye pressed right up against the crack. Unblinking. Boyd chuckled. "Sloane.

I see you." The crash was deafening, but June never came.

Did she already… I squeezed my eyes shut and buried my face into the blue plush. "Take me away," I choked out a whisper. "Please." The night sky fractured.

A comet tore through the atmosphere, dragging a brilliant, electricblue tail across the stars. The glow spilled through the glass, catching the plastic black eye of the teddy bear.

The eye twitched. A strange, starlit spark flared deep inside the plastic. The bear jerked in my arms. Fighting my grip. I thought I was hallucinating.

Just then, a soft, plush paw firmly grabbed my wrist. Silas blinked twice. "Under the closet," a deep, grounding voice rumbled from the bear. "Grab the red duffel.

Escape rope and a descender inside." Chapter 2 I froze, unable to comprehend the reality in front of me. "Hurry up!" the bear barked. My legs moved before my mind caught up.

I scrambled to the closet, my fingers scraping against the rough nylon of the red fireescape duffel. I ripped out the instruction manual. "Read it," Silas commanded. "Ten seconds.

Figure it out. You can do this." The creaking grew louder, and a long crack appeared in the door. I scanned the diagrams, my vision blurring.

I locked the carabiner into place and hurled the rope out the window. I vaulted over the sill.

Soft plush paws clamped securely around my neck. "Don't look down," Silas murmured against my ear. "I've got you." The freezing night wind slapped my face.

I was leaving the only life I knew, leaving her behind in that house of horrors. The weight of the bear on my back steadied my heartbeat a little.

By the fifth floor, the rope suddenly pulled taut, vibrating against my palms.

I gripped the nylon until my knuckles turned white. "Don't panic," Silas rumbled. "It's industrialgrade.

He can't cut it." I bit down hard, sliding down desperately, avoiding looking at what was behind me.

Fourth floor. "Do you…" I choked out, the wind stealing my breath. "Do you know if June is okay?" Silas said nothing. A window slid open next to me. Mrs.

Shirley leaned out, her eyes bugging. "Sweet Jesus, what are you doing out there?!" I heard her frantically dialing 911.

My sneakers slammed into the damp grass. "You did it, Sloane," Silas whispered, his voice barely audible over the sirens wailing in the distance.

A few latenight commuters rushed over. Chester pointed at the dangling rope. "What the hell is she doing?" "Kids doing stupid TikTok challenges, probably," another muttered.

God, I wished I was just a stupid kid doing a challenge. My brain mercifully blocked out the rest of the night, leaving only fragmented memories.

Red and blue lights strobing against the pavement. Cops shoving Boyd into the back of a cruiser.

He was swearing, the stench of cheap alcohol radiating off him even through the crowd. June never came out. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to picture her face.

I couldn't even remember how she looked at me right before the screaming started. Child Protective Services dumped me at Annette’s house. Just me and the blue bear.

My aunt stirred a pot on the stove, shaking her head. "I warned June. I told her to pack her bags and leave that psycho. Did she listen? No." Madison was a year older.

She looked at me with sympathy in her eyes.

She’d toss a few Marvel comics onto my makeshift bed on the floor. "Don't shower too late," she'd warn, her tone clipped. "Save some hot water for the rest of us." I ate my cereal in silence.

I scrubbed the dishes until my fingers wrinkled. I folded their laundry. Anything to earn my keep.

The plush bear sat on my pillow, watching me. "My name is Silas," he finally said. "Silas," I whispered into the dark room. "How am I supposed to grow up without her?" "You just do," his low voice rumbled. "Like a weed pushing through concrete." "Is it ever going to get better?" A heavy pause hung in the air. "Yeah." I went back to high school two weeks later.

Nobody knew. Nobody cared. I slipped right back into my role—the invisible girl haunting the hallways, blending into the lockers. During passing period, my stomach dropped.

My notebook was gone. The leatherbound journal June gave me for Christmas.

I could still feel the weight of it when she shoved it into my hands. "Sloane," she had smiled, her eyes crinkling. "Reading your stories is the only thing that keeps me sane." Chapter 3 I tore my backpack apart.

The skyblue leather journal was nowhere. "Hey, Sloane. Lose something?" A voice sliced through the hallway chatter. I whipped my head around. Jace leaned against the window frame.

A dark gleam flashed in his dark eyes. A pack of guys loitered behind him. Gage stood in the center, waving the familiar blue cover in the air.

He cracked it open and pitched his voice into a mocking, theatrical drawl. "I am a brilliant scientist… trapped in a parallel universe… and I'm raising a pet dino—" He didn't even finish the sentence.

The entire circle erupted into howling laughter. My throat closed up.

I locked my eyes on the leather binding. "My mom left that for me," I rasped. "Give it back." "Left it for you?" Jace rolled the words around in his mouth.

A slow, cruel smile stretched across his face. "You mean your mom is dead?" The numbness cracked. A sharp ache hit my chest out of nowhere.

I bit the tip of my tongue and nodded hard. Jace’s eyes dragged up and down my frame, dripping with disgust. "Makes sense.

Explains why you look like a thriftstore dumpster fire every single day." Another wave of laughter punched through the hall. Gage slammed the journal against the lockers.

He jammed a number two pencil right into the cover, dragging the graphite violently across June's handwriting. "Give it back!" Jace tilted his head, calculating. "Tell you what," he purred, his voice dropping into a sickening register. "Show us what you're wearing under that baggy shirt, and you can have your little diary back." My stomach plummeted. "Just one look?" I forced the words past my teeth. "Yeah," Jace said lazily. "Just one." The other boys also looked over, their expressions holding a hint of anticipation.

I dropped my gaze. I hesitated, then slowly turned my back to the locker bank. "Aww, the freak is shy." "She’s flat as a board anyway, who cares?

Ha!" My fingers clamped onto the hem of my cotton shirt. I didn't lift the fabric. I reached underneath the waistband and ripped out a piece of cold metal.

A thin, coiled steel wire. Ever since that night with Boyd, the metal lived against my ribs. I would never be caught unarmed again. I spun around on my heel and lunged.

Before Gage could blink, I whipped the steel wire over his head and yanked it tight across his throat. "The journal. Now." Gage froze, the color instantly draining from his face.

His hand trembled as he held out the notebook. Before my fingers could brush the leather, Jace’s hand shot out. He snatched the journal away.

He stared at me, eyes narrowed, examining a cornered animal. "She won't do it." "Watch me." I pulled the wire tighter. A cold, clammy sweat slickened my palms.

Gage let out a strangled, choked gasp. He violently jerked his body backward. My slick fingers lost their grip. The wire snapped out of my hands. Jace caught the steel coil.

He deliberately wrapped it around his knuckles, one tight loop at a time. "Sloane," he smiled, flashing his teeth. "What are we going to do with you now?" I didn't care if I got destroyed.

I just needed to take down one of them. Pure chaos exploded. I threw my hands over the journal, letting the back of my hands take the brunt of the hard pencil tips.

The sight of my blood smearing the concrete finally snapped them out of their sick trance. They dropped the book and bolted down the hall.

I slumped against the metal lockers, clutching my bleeding hands. I sat in the dead silence, permanently burning every single one of their faces into my brain.

Chapter 4 I clutched the journal to my chest and stumbled into the girls' bathroom. I shoved my bleeding knuckles under the freezing tap water.

The skin on the back of my hands burned, mangled and raw. June’s voice echoed in the sterile tile room. "Your hands are just as precious as your face, Sloane.

You have to protect them." A patch of blue shifted in the mirror. Silas. He grabbed my dripping hand. His plastic eyes stared at the mangled skin. "Are you stupid?

Why take them on alone? Go to Ms. Cobb." "You really think Ms. Cobb gives a damn?" She was eight months pregnant. She barely registered my existence on a good day.

Silas shook his fuzzy head, disgusted. "If she doesn't want to deal with it, Sloane, you force her hand." I stared at the reflection. "How?" "Don't go back to class," he rumbled. "Stay right here.

Wait." "For how long?" "Count to two hundred." The blue reflection vanished. I hit one hundred and fiftyeight. The bathroom door swung open. Ms.

Brooks walked toward the sinks, her eyes soft and tired. She ripped a paper towel from the dispenser. Her gaze snagged on my bloody knuckles. A sharp gasp punched out of her chest.

She didn’t ask questions. She led me back to the classroom and showed my wound directly to Ms. Cobb. Ms. Cobb gasped.

With another teacher witnessing the blood, she couldn't sweep it under the rug. The school slapped the boys with detention and called their parents. But I knew the truth.

They'd get a slap on the wrist. Nothing more. Madison spotted my mangled knuckles the second I walked through the front door. "Mom—look at her hands!" she shrieked.

Annette rushed out of the kitchen, her hands caked in white baking flour. "Who did this to you?" she demanded, her eyes wide. "Some guys at school." Annette rushed to the living room to find her phone. "This is absolute bullshit.

I’m calling the school.

I want them suspended!" Craig didn't even look away from the football game on the TV. "Jesus, Annette, put the phone down," he grunted. "Let the school handle it.

You're just gonna put a target on Sloane's back." Annette's thumb hovered over the screen. She slowly lowered the phone. She exhaled a heavy, defeated sigh.

She dug a tube of Neosporin out of a drawer and smeared it over my raw skin. "You're such a quiet kid. How could anyone do this to you? Does it hurt?" I shook my head.

Hearing them talk about me not having a mother hurt much more than this. Remembering what happened in the field earlier today, my nose stung. A soft rustle crinkled near my ear.

I slipped my hand under the thin pillow. My fingers brushed against crinkling foil. A small chocolate candy, wrapped in metallic blue. "Where did this come from?" I whispered.

Silas sat in the dark corner of the room. "Fell from the stars," his deep voice rumbled. "Sloane.

Let's make a deal." "What kind of deal?" "Starting today, you stop crying," he commanded softly. "You swallow the tears.

And for every ounce of hell this world puts you through, I'll give you a piece of sweet." I forced a single, jagged nod. "Deal." I popped the chocolate into my mouth.

It was hard against my teeth. But it tasted like pure sugar. Chapter 5 Annette tried slipping folded dollar bills into my palm.

I caught the sharp, heavy glare Craig shot us from the recliner. I pushed her hand away. "It's fine, Annette. I don't really eat junk food anyway." The final school bell rang.

A chaotic line of food carts idled outside the chainlink fence—selling greasy churros, soft pretzels, and melting snow cones. My route home was different now.

And the person who used to wait for me in the car rider line was never coming back. A swarm of kids crowded around a cart selling frosted cake pops.

I dragged my sneakers past a massive oak tree. A flash of blue peeked out from behind the thick trunk. Silas held out a fuzzy paw.

Two quarters rested in the center of his plush palm. "Go buy something sweet," his low voice rumbled.

I froze, dropping my voice to a harsh whisper. "Where did you get that?" "Lifted it from a toy store down the block," he stated, completely deadpan. My jaw unhinged.

Silas slowly blinked his plastic eyes. "Relax. I'm a stuffed animal. Human laws don't apply to me." I caved. I bought two vanilla cake pops.

We sat on a concrete block under the oak, quietly devouring the sugar. "Silas," I murmured. "Why are you actually here?" "Don't overthink it," he muttered. "I was just passing through." "How long are you staying?" I asked.

He patted the dust off his paws and disappeared behind the tree. "Until the next crossroad." The nightmare dragged me under. That night. The man pried my door open.

He walked toward me step by step, holding a white marble ornament. No blue bear sat on the window seat. No red fireescape duffel. No rope. Just me. Trapped in a dead end.

A sickening, bonecrushing thud. Then—pure, suffocating blackness. Neonwhite text burned brightly through the dark void. —Sloane.

You saved a stray cat once. —Before you fade, you get one wish. A glowing, holographic keyboard materialized in the dark. My ghostly fingers hovered over the keys.

I pressed down. —I want to save myself. I slammed the enter key. The void ripped apart. I rode the electricblue tail of a comet straight down to Earth.

I crashed into a plush, blue body. Plastic eyes snapped open. I stared at the terrified girl shaking on the window seat. Her whiteknuckled grip locked around a pair of scissors.

Staring at the splintering door. Her face was my face. I raised a fuzzy paw and clamped it down hard over her wrist. I snapped awake, gasping for air.

Suddenly, the puzzle pieces snapped together in my mind. It wasn't a nightmare. It was a memory. Silas's memory. He wasn't some guardian angel. He was me.

In his world—my world—Boyd had won. I had died on that floor. The comet ripped a hole through the multiverse.

My dying consciousness shoved itself into a cheap stuffed animal, spending its last breath of energy just to pull me out of the fire