Stargazing 101 (2010)

[Daystar Delight]

*When your dad works at NASA, you're going to be trained well in the fine art of stargazing from a very young age. I may be a sophomore in high school, but when it comes to astronomy, I can match minds with the coworkers that Dad sometimes brings to dinner.*
And those are?
The Pleiades, obviously. I've known where those were since before I could ride a bike. *I laugh and point at a random star.* And that one is?
Spica, of course.
Dammit, Dad! You could at least pretend to not know.
Now where's the fun in that?
*We both chuckle a bit before pointing out various other stars and a few planets, listing what we know about them. Our father-daughter stargazing sessions are one of my favorite parts of life. They've been staples for as long as I can remember. We lay on our backs in our backyard every clear night, no matter how cold or how boiling it is, to watch new constellations rise and old ones fall. I've seen as many meteors as the average middle-aged space nut; my sixteenth birthday present from Dad wasn't a car, but a necklace made of meteorite. I've seen more lunar eclipses than I can count and even one solar eclipse. I don't have much in the way of material possessions, but I don't care, because the memories I have are, honestly, ten times cooler than any sports car.*

[Daystar Delight]

*Dad's kind of a workaholic, so he's usually gone from around six in the morning to ten at night. He can hardly leave at all some days. It kind of sucks when I have no one to come to my school functions or anything, but it can't be helped, what with the fact that I never knew my mom. She ran off pretty much as soon as she was no longer needed to raise me. And Dad's always working, although I think he'll take time off for my graduation in a few years. I mean, I hope he will.*
*Anyway, tonight isn't graduation, just homecoming, so I stay home and act as the woman of the house. I clean what needs to be cleaned (although not Dad's room, which I learned the hard way) do my homework, and make dinner. Sure, it's not fun, but it is necessary. After a solitary dinner, I start writing out some scholarship essays until Dad calls to say he'll be staying later than usual. As in, he'll probably sleep at the office. I groan and go outside to look at the sky on my own. It doesn't matter that no one's here to quiz me.*

[Daystar Delight]

*School is tedious as Purgatory. The same sort of teachers that I've had for years lecturing on the same sort of stuff that we've been learning since middle school. The same faces wandering the halls, talking to the same kids who wear the same clothes as everyone else. Boring, boring, boring. And Dad wonders why I don't have any friends at school.*

*I start to be confused when I see the same fliers all over school. There are never fliers on the walls, only announcements. At one point, I stop in the hallways to read one.*

"Test Subjects Wanted

Able bodied men and women between the ages of 18-24 for the testing of new drugs within the mood enhancement and mental disorder containment field.

For more information, call our office at extension number: 523

Have a better day."

*As I walk away, taking a flier with me despite the fact that I'm far from eighteen, I think that this sounds like the sort of thing that would be in a sci-fi/horror story. Test subject gets injected with experimental medicine, becomes a raging freak who wreaks havoc on the surroundings and also somehow manages to spread his whatever-it-is and take over the world. Despite the diabolical note to it, it almost seems...interesting. It might be fun to be a mutant. I fold the paper up into little triangles and stuff it in my pocket as I walk down the monotonous gray hallways to my boring class, passing by the same people. Geez, I hate this place.*

[Daystar Delight]

*Time passes. It's gotten to the point where it's so close to graduation that the teachers barely give homework. It leaves me more time to talk to the friends I don't have, but also more time to read. I don't feel horribly inadequate if I read enough; the main characters of the books are my friends. After I do all the housework, I automatically curl up with a book and read away until I find myself in need of nourishment. I have a chat with Harry, adventure with Frodo, help Sherlock solve mysteries.*

*That day, Dad comes home early.*

Hey, honey! *He ruffles my hair with a big, cheesy smile.* How was your day?
Same old, same old. As in boring. How come you're home so early?
A nice fellow from some new pharmaceutical corporation, Better whatsit, came in and treated us all to some stress relief pills. Had the supervisor feeling so good, he let us all go early.
*I'm instantly reminded of the flier I picked up in school months ago.* Better Living Industries?
That's the one! Said he came all the way from Jacksonville to distribute them. Nice guy.
Daddy, don't take those anymore. I think there's something wrong with them. Like they're a disaster just waiting to happen.
Oh, ye of little faith. *He shakes his head at me, almost condescending.* You haven't tried the things. It's like you're carrying the weight of the world on your back and it suddenly turns into helium balloons. You feel and springy and light and not stressed out.
*I sigh. No matter how terrific he makes the things sound, I've read too many dystopia novels to trust them.* Whatever. I'll go make dinner.

[Daystar Delight]

*School is officially out, which means it's time for boring days. At least, that's usually the rule. However, this year, Dad comes home on the last day of school with news of an internship. I'm ecstatic that I get to work at my dream job until I find a bottle of stress relief pills with my name on it sitting on the kitchen table. I still have a bad feeling about those things. I dump them down the garbage disposal.*

*The actual facility makes me feel even worse. Yes, I absolutely adore the work, especially when I get to do actual stuff that involves space instead of fetching coffee for the researchers, but all of my coworkers are weirdly happy pill-hounds, including my dad. It grates on my nerves. When I start to hear people telling me to "have a better day" all the time, I begin to seriously consider quitting. This whole thing seems very Brave New World, what with everyone skipping around, high on artificial joy. All we need, I think to myself sometimes, is the start of a Church Of Ford and some identical twins.*

[plasmacreature]

(You should make this into a fan fiction its really good)