The sun, the next day, dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the deck of the Twilight as it set sail. Chris climbed the stairs to the observation deck, the gentle breeze tousling his hair, filling his lungs with the salty air. He took a moment to breathe deeply, allowing himself to relax as he gazed at the constellation-studded sky.
"Captain? Have you stopped to look at the stars?" The echo of Cecilia's voice danced in his mind. He frowned slightly, his gaze fixed on the bright, twinkling lights above. "What's so special about those lights?" he muttered to himself, turning away from the stars.
As he turned, he was startled to find Cecilia slumped in a corner, her posture heavy with an invisible weight. "What are you doing here?" he asked, eyebrows furrowing.
Cecilia lifted her head, her expression a mixture of resignation and vulnerability. "You know what, you got here first. I'll leave you to your thoughts," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Just as Chris was about to walk away, her voice called out again, breaking the silence. "Captain?" He paused, glancing back at her. "Can you please stay… for a while?"
"I'll call Bustamante to keep you company," he suggested, already reaching for the radio.
"Please, Captain? I just want someone to talk to." Her lip quivered slightly, and he noticed the child-like pout forming on her face, as if she were about to cry.
"I'm not good with words. Chatting is not my strong suit. I'll call Martinez; he likes to chat a lot." He fished the radio from his pocket, but before he could press the button, Cecilia grasped his hand, her grip firm yet pleading.
"Captain, please, can't you keep me company for a bit? You don't even have to talk, just listen?" she said with a big pout of her lips
His expression softened, and with a resigned sigh, Chris slumped down on the deck beside her. "Alright, I'm here," he said, his voice low.
"I want to be freed from this curse," Cecilia began, her voice trembling slightly. "I don't want to see the spirit world anymore. I want to be like those stars—free of any worries or wants."
Chris remained silent, his mind wandering. He thought, "Welcome to the club; at least you have a life."
"That was my last chance, you know? A shot at a normal life," she continued, her voice heavy with sorrow. "Since I was a child, normal people saw me as the village fool." She looked down, her shoulders slumping further. "They thought I was some freak. I never even knew how it was to have a friend."
Chris felt the weight of her words. He glanced at her, caught off guard by her sudden vulnerability. "Why is she looking at me? Is she waiting for me to reply?" he wondered, awkwardly looking away. But when he glanced back, he found her gazing at him with those big, puppy-like eyes.
"What is she doing? I thought I didn't have to talk," he thought, perplexed. Cecilia doubled down on her cuteness, propping her chin on her hands, her eyes shimmering with unspoken emotions.
"Haist… Oh well, might as well reply. Maybe she'll stop that stupid thing with her eyes," he thought, clearing his throat. "You said you wanted to be like a star? So, what you wanted was to just blend in and disappear among the crowd?"
Cecilia's expression shifted, a flicker of hope mingling with her sadness. "Maybe… just maybe," she replied softly, her gaze returning to the stars, as if searching for the answer among their twinkling light.
Cecilia sat on the edge of the ship's railing, gazing out at the endless river, her heart heavy with emotions she couldn't quite articulate. "Maybe… yes, I want to blend in, like an indiscernible star," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
Chris leaned closer, intrigued yet concerned. "What do you mean?" he asked gently, his eyes searching hers.
"All my life, I stood out, but all for the wrong reasons," she continued, her voice cracking. "I've been the target of ridicule and bullying. I don't even know how it feels to receive flowers from a boy." Tears began to spill down her cheeks, and Chris felt an unsettling restlessness wash over him. He wanted to comfort her, but didn't know how.
"Not even once? Talk about being rejected. She's been rejected even before she became part of the choice," he thought, the weight of her words sinking in.
"That amulet was my last chance at a normal life!" she sobbed, the anguish palpable. "But how can I be selfish? How can I think of myself? When… when a little girl needs it more than I do… I know how it feels to grow up with this curse. I don't want her to experience what I went through."
"Do you regret that decision? To give your freedom away?" he asked, hoping his words would bring some solace.
"I would be a hypocrite if I said I don't regret giving it away," she replied, her voice muffled against his shoulder. "But Emily needed it more. I wouldn't be able to live with myself, knowing there's a little child somewhere being haunted by the same things that I feared my whole life."