Khaalida finds the stars fascinating. Stars form constellations, shapes. The shapes rotate through the year. Aries, Taurus, Gemini. Cancer, Leo, Virgo. Libra, Scorpio, Sagittarius. Capricorn, Aquarius, Pisces. Repeat. Some people believe the stars affect human characteristics. Khaalida is not one of those people. Yet, she keeps an astrology book under an astronomy book. She doesn’t want to believe stars can affect behavior. But it seems as if they may. Within the stars, she finds bright chaos. She finds order and beauty. She finds imagination. In the back of her mind, she wonders if something so marvelous could be more than just hot dust.
Virgo is an Earth sign. Earth signs are considered imaginative, flexible, in control. — Madame Nixie’s Guide To The Elemental
Khaalida wakes on her balcony—again. She unfolds her body and her muscles mutiny. She thinks they will get over it. She thinks falling asleep under Leo is worth it. She looks at her fitness tracker and it’s 7:06 AM. Khaalida is delighted. She hasn’t missed her favorite part of morning. She stares at the lawn directly across the street. The guy-who-lives-two-doors-down-with-the-great-dane finally materializes. She grins. He crosses the street and lets his dog shit on the annoying PTA mom’s lawn. Khaalida doesn’t know either of their names. She knows the dog owner is her hero. And, the PTA mom is a total pain in the ass. At least according to Khaalida’s mother and the-guy-with-the-great-dane. Whether she is or is not, Khaalida is tired of hearing about her love of all things vegan and gluten free. She is not tired of the guy and his dog and poop on the lawn.
Virgo: Wear yellow to cheer yourself up — Madame Nixie’s Guide To The Elemental
She cranks the shower just shy of scalding. She lathers and rinses and stands there. She feels heavy and tired. Like she has become Osmium, the densest element. Like gravity holds her hostage. She knows today will be a bad day. This knowledge makes her stomach cramp, quickens her breathing. 3-point-1-4-1-5-9-2-6-5-3-5-8-9, she rattles off the first thirteen digits of pi. She searches her closet for that yellow top she forgot she owns. The top is mid-day-sun-bright. Khaalida wears the shirt. The color pisses her off.
The Sun is the closest star to Earth— The Science Behind Celestial Bodies
She shuffles her feet too much, she knows. Shocks from metal surfaces do not deter her. Neither does her mother’s reprimanding. She feels she doesn’t have the energy to walk like a person.
Stars convert Hydrogen into Helium— The Science Behind Celestial Bodies
Her mother doesn’t understand. Khaalida doesn’t know how to explain. If she could, Khaalida would say there’s a sadness that hurts her. Sadness is too weak a word for what Khaalida feels, but will do, she guesses. It feels as if her soul is freezing—like her organs have frostbite. She’d tell her there is a panic that overwhelms. That the sadness paralyzes and the panic drowns. But, Khaalida is a girl of facts, of numbers; she is not a girl of words. Her mother doesn’t ask for an explanation. Her mother thinks she has a bad attitude, thinks she is just fourteen. Khaalida wants to care. She can’t care.
Virgos are most likely to be depressed— Madame Nixie’s Guide To The Elemental
Her mother asks, “Which Lida she’s getting today?” Khaalida snarls “Guess.” She wants to apologize. She doesn’t apologize. Her larynx becomes a vacuum. Her eyes close as the kitchen spins. She thinks her heart is impossibly loud. Khaalida wills it to shut up. She lists sharks from fastest to slowest: Shortfin Mako, Longfin Mako, Salmon, Great White, Blue, Basking, Whale, Greenland. Khaalida’s heart slows. She feels more tired. She feels restless.
Virgo: You will find peace in the worn out— Madame Nixie’s Guide To The Elemental
Khaalida walks without a purpose. Trees and houses and people warp at the edge of her vision. She ends up at a park. Khaalida has never seen this park. She stumbles across the jungle gym. She twists on a swing. She kicks those things on springs—watches them smack the ground in circles. She looks around the park. The park is faded and derelict. The park is rusting and crumbling and moss covered. It is comforting. Khaalida wonders why no one else is here. She is grateful for the emptiness. Her eyes rest on the roundabout. She grabs a handle puts one foot on the disk, and uses the other to turn it. She gains momentum, puts the other foot on the roundabout. Khaalida lays in the middle. She watches the sky spin. It makes her dizzy. She lays there. Swallows down bile. Closes her eyes. She races through the multiplication table: 1×0, 1×1, 1×2…12×10,12×11,12×12. Tears leak onto the roundabout anyway. Khaalida lays on the hot metal until her eyes dry out. She lays there until her tears evaporate.
Stars are in constant conflict with themselves; they try not to collapse— The Science Behind Celestial Bodies
Khaalida is suddenly furious. She thinks she’s stupid for crying. She thinks there’s no reason to feel like this. She thinks she has things to do— like summer reading— like laundry— like that knitting project she hasn’t finished. She does not get up. She feels she has become one with the roundabout. Which is to say: warped and creaky.
Virgos tend to think they don’t have time for depression— Madame Nixie’s Guide To The Elemental
Eventually, Khaalida forces her limbs to move. She figures she should respond to her mother’s forty text messages and nine missed calls. Khaalida languidly types, “I’m alive,” and hits send. Her phone vibrates seconds later. She stares at the screen until it goes dark. She sticks the phone into her back pocket. Khaalida tries to remember her way back.
Virgo: Be grateful for small things— Madame Nixie’s Guide To The Elemental
Khaalida takes one wrong turn after another. She is determined to get back on her own. She refuses to ask her phone, or a person, for directions. Clouds creep along the sky until the sun is smothered and the wind begins to moan. Thunder and lightning stomp and scream in protest. Minutes later, rain inundates the suburbs. People scramble to gather children, dogs, possessions. They rush into dry, cool homes. Khaalida stops walking. She rotates to face the rain heavy wind head on. She closes her eyes, enjoying the deafening thunder. She relishes the heady electric feeling of ions kissing her skin. She is content for the first time in awhile.
Virgos are mutable, which is to say: they look forward to new seasons: new beginnings— Madame Nixie’s Guide To The Elemental
Khaalida feels lighter. She feels her sad was washed down the gutter. She feels she can breathe. She wonders if the day, Wednesday, has anything to do with her change in mood. After all, Wednesday is a Virgo’s best day. Khaalida shakes her head and thinks that’s stupid. Wednesday is just the middle of the week— a label used to track time. She wonders if it was the yellow shirt. She looks down at the shirt. She laughs. She still hates the shirt. She wonders why she keeps following those silly horoscopes. Khaalida guesses they do no harm.
Virgo is the second largest constellation— The Science Behind Celestial Bodies
Khaalida recognizes a purple house. She easily finds her way back home. She stands in front of the kitchen door, rocking from heel to toe. She knows her mother will probably explode from anger. She steels herself and decides she can handle it. Khaalida feels good. Not even punishment can ruin this good. She opens the door and the kitchen is empty. She grabs a strawberry soda from the refrigerator and chugs half. Her mother sits on an arm chair, in the living room— like a movie or a television show. Khaalida thinks her mother is so dramatic. She thinks she’s such a Scorpio. Khaalida grins and says, “What’s up, mom?” Her mother is thrown off. Her mother was prepared for conflict; she was not prepared to see her daughter’s sweet smile. She has not seen Khaalida smile in almost a year, it’s nice. She can only smile at her daughter. Khaalida kisses her mother and skips to her room. Life does not feel like a prison sentence.
The biggest stars die quicker— The Science Behind Celestial Bodies
Khaalida spends the week drawing birds. Carolina Wrens, Blue Jays, Canadian Geese, Hawks. She fills two SD cards with bird pictures. She fills four drawing pads with sketches. Khaalida sets out bird feeders and bird baths. She stares at them for hours, cataloging various avians as they frolic. Khaalida whistles as she washes dishes or takes out the trash. She mimics bird calls. Occasionally, birds sit on her window sills. Once, a bird harmonizes with her whistling. She thinks stuff like this only happens in cartoons. Most of the time, the birds watch her. This watching calms Khaalida. This watching worries Khaalida. It reminds her that some cultures consider birds omens. Fear gnaws at her contentment. She thinks it’s silly to let superstition bother her. Then she remembers Mercury is almost in retrograde, her governing planet. Fear scratches at her throat. She bats it away. Mercury in retrograde is just an illusion, inhale. It does not actually stop and rotate backwards, only appears this way three to four times a year, exhale.
Virgo: Today the unexpected will happen, be happy— Madame Nixie’s Guide To The Elemental
Khaalida spreads a blanket over the grass. She lays on her stomach. She reads a book in her backyard. Her mother sips tea and begins a quilt on the patio. Khaalida enjoys the smell of warm paper. She is content. But remembers school is quickly approaching. Khaalida is terrified of going back. What if she has a panic attack? What if she can’t stop the tears? Khaalida feels like a freak. She thinks that she does not need her classmates thinking she’s a freak. She always hopes the fear and the sadness will leave. She thinks they make no sense. She feels like an anvil is sitting on her back. She feels she is sinking into the ground— like being buried alive without dirt. Khaalida cannot breathe. She struggles for air but there is not enough. Her mother asks, “What is wrong?” Khaalida can’t say. Instead she scrambles to the bathroom and vomits. She lists: Azalea, Bachelor Buttons, Cosmos, Dahlias, Evening Primrose— there is no calm amongst the flowers. She doesn’t go back outside. Khaalida sits in the bathtub and cries.
Virgo is known as the Disappointed Goddess— Madame Nixie’s Guide To The Elemental
Khaalida watches the stars. Virgo jetés gracefully across the sky. She thinks about how even stars that form constellations are far apart. She wonders if they are lonely. She sees her mother pass in front of a window. Khaalida wants to hug her mother. She hugs her legs instead. She stares into the darkness until her absence of light melts into the shadows.
Most of the stars we see are dead— The Science Behind Celestial Bodies
Khaalida wakes up. She stares at the ceiling and listens to her heartbeat, her breathing. Irritation crashes through her body like high tide. She thinks she’ll burst. She reaches out and throws the first thing her fingers encircle. The lamp explodes against the wall. Her mother comes to check out the noise. She asks, “What is wrong with you?” She says, “Clean that up.” Her mother leaves and Khaalida gets up. She shuffles to the broken lamp and drops to the floor. She picks up the biggest piece of glass. Khaalida watches the light exaggerate the sharpness. She does not think, she drags the glass across her thigh. Her chest hollows. Her spine prickles. Blood beads and drips and Khaalida is oddly relieved. She does this nine more times. She lays back and bleeds and glass shards float in pools of her blood.
Khaalida means Immortal, Deathless— Khaalida’s mother
Khaalida feels lethargic. She feels like a Greenland shark in molasses. She goes through the motions of school. She is not paying attention. Her focus is on her eyes and their warm full feeling. She is willing herself not to cry in public. Khaalida knows when she cannot stop it. She hides— usually in a bathroom. She leans against the wall. She bites the sleeve of her sweater and tears drip, mixing with her lotion.
Red giants make the sun look small— The Science Behind Celestial Bodies
Khaalida lumbers to the worn out park. She uses up her energy getting there. She lays on the roundabout and stares at clouds. They all look like lamp shards to her. She imagines putting the pieces back together. They don’t quite fit like they used to. She rubs her sore thigh and that makes it throb more and she is glad. She falls asleep counting glass shards.
Virgo: Today you will want to implode; don’t— Madame Nixie’s Guide To The Elemental
Khaalida knows she can’t exist like this. She tries to tell her mother how she feels. Her words are clumsy and hard to understand. Her mother says she is fine. Her mother says she needs to be less angry. Her mother suggests she doesn’t wallow. Khaalida says, “Nevermind.” She says, “Thanks.” She decides she already has a solution. She trades a glass shard for a razor.
Most stars come in multiples: they orbit the same gravitational field— The Science Behind Celestial Bodies
Khaalida is desperate to dull the ache. She wraps herself in a blanket and sits on the balcony. She craves the company of the stars. Sagittarius taunts Khaalida. She is disappointed. They make her feel more lonely. The stars make her feel hollow— as if she is all the space between them.
Stars are light years away from each other— The Science Behind Celestial Bodies
Khaalida’s appetite is further away than Pluto. She knows she should eat. Trying to force herself to eat makes her choke, makes her stomach hurt. So, she doesn’t. This adds to her tired.
Event Horizon: the invisible boundary around a black hole; nothing can escape it’s pull— The Science Behind Celestial Bodies
Khaalida is restless. She is aimless. She is consumed by the heavy void. She takes a walk and it is cold. The wind claws at her skin, tries to rip it from her bones. She thinks it feels nice to feel something—other than restless and aimless and the heavy void.
Interstellar medium: the gas and dust between the stars— The Science Behind Celestial Bodies
Khaalida lays in bed, under her thickest blanket. It seems to be the only thing that can hold her heavy. Khaalida’s mother says her phase isn’t funny or cute. Her mother says if she wants attention, all she has to do is ask. Khaalida does not want attention. Khaalida wants her mother to shut the door.
The biggest stars could engulf Saturn— The Science Behind Celestial Bodies
Khaalida’s mother gets her stars. The ones that glow in the dark. Khaalida watches her mother stick them to the walls. She hugs her mother too long and too tight. She lets go too abruptly and sits on the bed—staring at the stars. They make her tears look fluorescent.
Most stars are red dwarfs— The Science Behind Celestial Bodies
She feels like she’s standing on wet shore sand: all the time. She is slipping, sinking. She feels the air has been replaced with something the consistency of roux.
Virgo: The sky beacons, answer— Madame Nixie’s Guide To The Elemental
She goes for a walk and it’s cold. The wind claws at her skin. It does not feel nice. Khaalida feels cold and heavy and lost. She feels lonely. Khaalida is tired.
Escape Velocity: the speed needed to exit a body’s gravitational pull— The Science Behind Celestial Bodies
Khaalida walks to the old park. It is faded and derelict. It is comforting. Snow, like glass shards makes everything glitter. She sits on the roundabout. Khaalida thinks about how brown dwarfs, or failed stars, take 10 trillion years to deplete their hydrogen. She thinks that’s too much time. She removes a folded cloth from her pocket. She unfolds the cloth and takes the razor. The stars keep her company.