THE STAR'S DYNASTY

FREAKING MEN ON THE STREET

(February 1985) The Masterpiece

Contented the small girl's heart was with drawing in her hand, walking down the stairs without any cares of the steps she might miss.
Rigel took a look at her drawing one last time before she decided show it to her parents. A colorful drawing containing of what it looked like a girl, with a male, and female adults on her both sides.

“Mum, Dad. Look! I draw something,” said Rigel happily as she spread her drawing in front of her parents who both sat on a couch faced a small television. Her father seized the paper from her hands; bulk he was, it almost tear apart. As they observed the drawing, her mother gave a half-suppressed, scornful laugh. Her father didn't even try to hide, a loud laughter echoed through the house. Rigel could tell they both amused—not in a way she thought they would react to her drawing. Such a humiliation she felt, somehow she snatched it back from her father's hand. Frustrated she felt, her favorite drawing was nearly destroyed in her grip.

“If you don't like it, you can just say it,” said Rigel exasperatedly. “There is no need to insult me like that.” How wonderful it would be if that empty wine bottles beside them could reach their head right now.

“We probably would like it if you're our real daughter.” said Julie, her laughter still remaining at the end of her words.

“What?” her heart sank.

“Haven't you notice? We aren't even similar. Your dark hair, your weirdly pale skin even in a sunny day,” her father continued.

“I have noticed it. But—”

“Your real family don't even want you, they sold you to us.”

“They dressed strangely, just like your name,” mocked Julie.

“It's a star's name,” Rigel talked back.

“Go back to your room kid,” Crude said as he threw a hard kick to Rigel's stomach. She was thrown on the floor with a loud thud. Rigel bent, spike-like pressure was driving down to her belly. She braced herself to stand and ran upstairs to her room.

The roof of her mouth was dry, she couldn't cry nor swallow her saliva. Her stomach lurched and gurgled. Reflectively, Rigel ran to the bathroom, unloaded the contents of her stomach into the toilet. Probably it was the last contents as she haven't touch any food in the last four days. Rigel breath heavily, resting her back on the cold wall. Closing her eyes, she wished that was her last breath and that she won't see the sun for tomorrow.

(November 1988) Nebula’s Memories

Three years later...

Nightmare. It doesn't have to be about monsters or horrible creatures. It can be beautiful sometimes. But this nightmare, commonly it supposed to be beautiful. Rigel dreamed about a man, it was a little bit blurry but she could see the warmest smile from his cold appearance. And a woman, it was blurry too; she stroked Rigel's hair with such love that she never felt while she was in her hug in that dream.

Strangely, even it was all just a dream, she could feel the heat and her hair moving, it felt real. Her head repeat the same dream over and over again. She scared; scared of what she might hope from a mere dream. Scared that she would get hurt by it. That's what make it a nightmare, that's what make it so terrible.

Even somehow, admittedly from her most bottom heart, she did wished all of it were real. Rigel keen to know how does it feel to have people who genuinely loves her.
She reached into her pants pocket and took out a piece of card that said ‘Happy Mother's Day’. She lifted it to her gaze – this card doesn't have any value anymore, not after this so-called-mother wasn't the one who gave birth to her. Torn it to different size of pieces, Rigel threw it away, carried by the wind. She turned her head to see many of her friends in her age accompanied by their parents, eating their meal together.

“Mum, I don't want to eat this!” cried a lumpy looking boy.

“But this is for your health,” said his mother endearingly, with a spoonful of green and white food in her hand.

At the sight of it, Rigel smiled dryly. At least there's nobody who will force her like that. Even actually having a mother who force her to eat some nasty green foods is much way better than a mother who sold her. She picked a dried leaf randomly and saw it burned; sent ashes everywhere. The kids in her school calls her ‘freak’ for this. She wanted to see whether they would still call her with that word if they watch their houses burn to the ground.

There was one time when her Mathematic teacher talked about that to her ‘family’.

“She has done nasty little things,” she'd said.

“Like what?”

“Rigel once burned her friend's books – I saw it happened; the moment she touched it, the other books started to burn too.”

A simple magic. Yes, she did it, and that's the price they had to pay for trying to steal her book first. Rigel could feel the stinging pain on her back that has been ignored all this time as she remember one time when her ‘father’ whipped her with his leather belt when he found out from the teachers that Rigel came back from the toilet with a girl named Emily but she was fully wet and her face full of pustules which she didn't have it before going out of the classroom. It was expected that Emily accused it on Rigel, and frankly she really was the one who did that. That's what Emily got for trying to splashed her with a bucket of water – for unknown motives. Fortunately, Rigel was faster; she pushed the bucket off her and Emily fell on the bathroom floor, soaking wet. When Emily got up, her face was already full of the pustules.

“Oh yes, there she is!”

Here we go again, Rigel sighed.

“I genuinely don't have time for this. I don't have the desire to curse anyone right now.” Rigel, who was unimpressed by their presence, stated.

“Oh, come on! We just want to ask you something. Right, girls?” Grace, a girl in glasses who had her frizzy, dirty blonde hair pinned back, spoke.
“Yes!” responded the other two girls behind her in unison.

“Alright, quick.” without even looking to them, Rigel said in boringness.

“How does it feel to have the inability to be normal?” asked Grace, the other girls were giggling as if it was the funniest thing they had ever heard.

“It feels awesome that I can burn you and your friends alive,” Rigel said flatly. “Anyway Grace Robinson, how does it feel to have the disability to see normally?”

The three of them gasped in disbelief.
“Shock?” Rigel chuckled, getting on her feet. “I am more shock to see that no one beat the shit out of you yet.”

“You don't even dare to touch me, Rigel,” said Grace in a nervous, bracing voice. “My daddy is a policeman, he can lock you up if he wants to.”

“That means I can get out of that house right? It sounds fun.”

“But even like that, even the jail won't accept a freak like you,” mocked Grace as the other two chortled. “I would like to see what kind of freaks your parents are.” Continued her as their laughter became louder than ever.

A surge of anger ran through her veins as she stomped her feet furiously as she stood. “There I draw the line. You're going too far, Robinson.” warned her, clenching her fist till her knuckles became white.

“What are you going to do?” Grace asked anxiously. The two girls were too agitated they left their friend alone.

“Oh, nothing. I just want you to see this world normally without any mechanism.”

Rigel lunged on Grace without thinking, and the two of them tumbled to the ground together. Grace's spectacles were taken by her and she threw them aside. Rigel watched the glasses catch fire as a sense of satisfaction escaped her lungs. Those in their nearby began to scream and scatter. A few of them called out for help, and some even begged get Rigel to put an end to it. It appeared as though Grace had not noticed that her spectacles were burned as she hurriedly searched for her scorched eyewear. A peculiar feeling of entertainment filled a part of her as she heard screams and sobs, watching Grace's struggling hopelessly, and the raging fire that was only becoming higher.

“Rigel!” suddenly, a recognisable voice appeared. Although the other teachers watched the episode in horror, Miss Wilkins' disappointment was clearly obvious. Her favourite teacher's face expression caught her attention as she glanced over what she had done. Is it worthwhile?

The Reasons

“I know you did that on purpose.”

“She deserves it.”

Miss Wilkins sighed. She took out a blue card with a sizable slab of chocolate; it turned out to be her report card. Was that really the infamous snack that has gained widespread popularity, or were her eyes deceiving her? Rigel made an effort to conceal her delight at seeing that large chocolate bar.

"You don't just pass; you get the best grade in each subject. Yet if you still lack self-control, your efforts will be in vain.”

“Should have thanked me I don't burn her in place of her glasses. I am aware of my actions. Too much of her.”

I am aware of my actions When she gave another thought, Rigel actually didn’t. She began to doubt herself. Why did she care about her biological parents when she detested them so much? All of that harm for standing up for someone who didn't care about her at all? It was impossible for Rigel not to feel frustrated with herself.

“Have you had anything to eat? You've been losing weight lately,” Miss Wilkins remarked.

Rigel touched her body uncomfortably. Does it look so obvious? “But you won't tell them right? My parents? Things wouldn't be any more better if they know,” at the thought of being whipped again, she flinched.

“I won't. Now go home, and eat something. I will handle this with principal. Don't worry.” assured Miss Wilkins with a grin.

“You know when I burned Grace’s glasses... I sort of amused.” Rigel began. “When people started to scream, and ran away; I get really happy. What if with this ability, I became evil? What if I used to use this power to defend myself only later it would turn me bad?”

Rigel locked her eyes on the floor as cheeks grew hotter – embarrassed that this question was actually from her own mouth. She wouldn't need to care about it though, since when did anyone think to treat her with kindness and respect? Since when does she feel the need to win people over by becoming morally upright when they treat her like plain trash?

“It's your choice, Rigel. To becombe good or evil, that's on ourselves,” she replied, full of attention. There are, a very few amount of people Rigel found them, respectable enough. Only one, this teacher in front of her. Rigel wished she had known many other individuals who's just as generous as Miss Wilkins.

Deja Vu

Rigel has gone three days in Ia row without eating, but fortunately she has some money from picking on a rich person. Rigel gave him his back and merely waited for him to thank her by giving her some cash.

For three pound, a bread could've done it but Rigel was still as starving as before and she had a sweet taste for some desserts; perhaps something cold like ice cream or frozen yogurt.

The street looked somehow deserted than usual. She observed it one more time; it turned out that it's not the street was actually deserted. Locals kept avoiding a bunch of people in some strangely familiar dark dresses and cloaks that were talking to each other and went for different paths. A couple of them even wore weirdly patterned masks. It's pretty and unique that she wished she had one of them.

For some reasons it felt as though they were looking for something, but it's not impossible that it could've be someone. As questions flooded her head, Rigel stopped at her favorite ice cream parlor; where the owner served her a free ice cream as expected.

“How's your school today, Rigel dear?” asked Mrs. Octovia fondly while was serving a big lump of chocolate and vanilla ice cream in front of her.

“Great. How's your business?” replied her, trying to be friendly.

“Just as usual, dear. Not so many customers came here today because of those people .”

“What people?” Rigel nearly choked on her ice cream when she turned her head back to look at the identical folks wearing odd clothing behind her. Now, though, things looked to be different; rather than searching for it, they appeared to be guarding something. They occasionally turned their heads to face her, and when she spotted it, they pretended to look around while she could tell they were watching her. Uncomfortably, Rigel moved around in her chair. What if Rigel herself was the ‘something’ they were genuinely seeking for? What's the reason though?

It took her some times to realize she was alone at the table. Rigel was not supposed to complain as she loved being alone but this isn't the right time. This delicious ice cream in front of her wasn't mouth-watering anymore. A safe ride journey to home was all she ever wanted for now.

Quietly, Rigel grabbed her school bag — was cursing her ‘parents’ for not fetching her up and left the the melting ice cream on the table. Without looking back, Rigel sped up her walk, squeezed herself in packs of adults, she barely could breath with the various of perfume's strong scents. Rigel didn't know how far she went; those guys were really freaking her out.

Finally she found herself in the narrow, dirty alley. She leaned on the building's moldy wall, breathing heavily and cast sideways to see if the man still following her. Rigel's heart gave a jolt; a blond hair man in the same weird looking robe already found her.

“You creep! Did you really follow me until here?!” yelled Rigel in frustration.

“Now, Rigel. Listen to me very carefully —”

“I will not.” Stupid. As the man approached her, Rigel threw the unexpectedly light dustbin towards him and ran as fast as she could. Another two men appeared out of thin air, trying to grab her. Rigel gave one of them a strong kick in his balls as he fell on his knees and moaned in pain.

“Excuse me your poor kids.” She sensed a figure close to her and gave him a hard slap on face using her bag pack.

Her heart was pumping so fast, Rigel felt as though her chest was going to explode.
He knows my name. They recognized her; probably all of them were looking for her. But who are they? After all, that was the worst way somebody could do to approach someone.

Rigel came to her sense once she cleared up her mind after a few steps of walking. The man that appeared out of thin air. Logically impractical. But then remembered that she burned those things from nothingness too. Whoever they are, they must be her kind of people. Freaks.

The Serpent and The Star

The empty narrow road lane was a good sign of nobody followed her here. She kicked a bigger rock on the rocky road and it flew to the bushes.

“Ouch.”

Rigel was sure she wasn't hallucinating, there must be someone behind it and they just got hurt. She made her way to the bushes. But what she found wasn't a human, it was a snake. A beautiful milky white snake.

“You threw a rock at me, human,” spoke the snake. By it's voice, Rigel recognised it at once that it was a ‘he’.

“That was unintentional. Do you need an apology?”

Both of the human and animal locked their gaze at each other, apparently startled by themselves. Rigel aware that some hissing and rasping noise came from her but never actually know how did she do that. The snake was staring at her with his blue and green as if he just found his new master.

“A parselmouth?”

Rigel shook her head in confusion. What is even a parselmouth.

“Yes, you are. Your eyes reminds me of the last parselmouth I met.”

“Look, I've got to go. Goodbye—” she wanted to say his name.

“My name is William Snakespeare, mistress. But my people call me Slider,”

“You're joking. But nice to meet you, Slider.”

He nodded, his tounge was sticking out; hissing. Rigel felt a fire of pride burning in her when he called her ‘mistress’. What a kind respect this animal gave.

“Goodbye, Slider. See you never.” Rigel waved a hand at him as she took a few steps back.

“I'm going to find you, mistress. I will devote myself to you.” Slider lowered his head as though he was bowing.

“Whatever.”