Contemporary story
On

The Star

When the world started to end, you were ashamed of yourself for weeping bitterly in your bedroom for an entire day. You saw the president crying and begging on TV and it sent you into a panic. You lay in bed with the blankets pulled up to your nose, crying, refusing to answer the door when the maid, your manager, your assistant, and finally your parents begged you to come out.

After twenty-four hours, your father took the door off its hinges and dragged you down the stairs into your sunken living room with the white carpet and leather couches. You kicked and screamed until he had to pick you up and carry you over his shoulder. You called him a motherfucker and threatened to take back the Mercedes you'd purchased for him last Christmas.

Your mother sat solemnly on the couch, her hands clenched into fists on top of the newspaper in her lap. She said it was all over.

You glowered and glared; you asked what the hell is happening, and will you still be on the talk show circuit next month?

The television stations are all color bars and static. Your father says that the talk shows are all gone, and not to worry. He tells you that there are far more important things happening right now. How can you not worry? You were supposed to debut your new fragrance next month to coincide with the release of your latest album.

Your mother tells you that the album isn't going to happen, and she clenches her fists even tighter than before. You can't believe what she's saying. How can she say that? There will always be an album, and there will always be television. You tell your parents they're idiots, and that this will all blow over in a few days, as soon as they replace that pussy of a president.

Your mother says that the world is ending. They dropped bombs, she says darkly.

There are diseases and radiation poisoning spreading all over the country, your father says.

Not in LA you shout defiantly.

Your mother holds up the newspapers one at a time. WAR is on the cover of each one, along with speculations on the doomed fate of the country, including LA. You feel sick, you're dizzy. You want to know what you did to deserve this, and how anyone could possibly do such a thing before you had a chance to accomplish the things that mean so much to you.

*

←2→

Two days later, your mother and father are discussing survival, and filling jugs with water from the tap just in case. Your father is worried about the electricity holding out. You sit in the living room wondering why all the servants quit the day before, and if your assistant is ever going to call you back. The only connection to the outside world is the radio, and it's hard to get real information between the crying and praying on almost every channel. On the pop station, the dj says over and over that it's only a matter of time. Your father tells you to switch to the AM band because they have more sense on AM, goddammit.

You hear reports of death and destruction all over the country, and all you can think is that you hope LA is okay. Even after reports of people dead in their cars, you imagine Rodeo Drive the same as it ever was, untouched by nasty things like war, sickness and death. How could a place a beautiful as Hollywood ever be destroyed? No one messes with LA, you say, and your father won't look you in the eye.

When the electricity goes out that night, your eyes fill with frustrated tears, and you light the scented candles you'd been saving for a special occasion. The radio runs on batteries, but they won't last long. Your father tells you to conserve them, and stop leaving the radio on so much. You tell him to shut up, and that you can afford thousands of batteries. The man on the radio says that much of the east coast is destroyed, along with Detroit and Chicago. He says that the radiation is coming west at an alarming rate, and you wish you had a map so you'd know what that meant. Instead of worrying, you get out that limited edition pink nail polish and give yourself a pedicure. It isn't until you spill the bottle, and nail polish gets all over the carpet that you realize you can't stop crying.

In the morning, your dad tells you that your mother is very sick, and he doesn't feel so well himself. You roll your eyes and tell them to take some pepto, but on the inside, you can't deal with the possibility of them dying and leaving you alone, so you go back to your room and sit in front of the window. Your yard looks the same. There is no death and destruction on your property, but you wonder what's changed outside of your front gates.

In the afternoon, you bring your four gold records and three Grammy awards up to your room so you can look at them. Your finger traces your name on the awards over and over, and you can't comprehend how someone who has accomplished so much in such a short time should be allowed to go through something as horrible as this. You're a star, for God's sake, you deserve better than this.

←3

Your father is calling your name in the hall. He sounds sick. His voice breaks repeatedly, and he's gagging between words. You don't want him to throw up on the carpet in the hall, but you keep your mouth shut. If he does, the cleaning woman will take care of it tomorrow. You pull the blankets up to your chin and close your eyes. Your father's voice sounds farther and farther away now as you clutch the Grammy close to your chest and squeeze your eyes shut.

Tomorrow you'll wake up and things will be better. Tomorrow you'll be on the Tonight Show, and be as charming as ever. Tomorrow your agent will apologize for not calling. Tomorrow you'll still be a star.

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Average: 5 (1 vote)

Comments

Submitted by admin on Sun, 10/05/2008 - 13:48

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This story really reminded me of "Sunset Boulevard" (1950), in how it doesnt show what happens to the main character (when she goes down), but it only reveals what she thought of as herself. She thought she was going to be a star forever, as Norma Desmond -- as she was about to be arrested for killing the man -- called for her close-up. They were both in their own worlds.

Submitted by admin on Sun, 10/05/2008 - 13:53

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This story HAS to stop where it does! If it didnt, it would spoil the whole idea and perspective! Were not supposed to be interested in what happens to the (other) characters, but rather, what happens in the main characters MIND. She is surrounded by facts and other people, but she is self-centered. POINT REACHED! LOL

Submitted by admin on Mon, 10/06/2008 - 21:40

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I thought the story was very interesting and it kept me reading.

It was dark and to the point. Its futuristic but closer to our time so we can connect and therefore, may not be too far in the future.

The characterization on the main character was amazing and it was writen in such a way that there didnt have to be alot of nariitive to explain her, but conversation and action. Great!

It will stick in my mind for the rest of my life, and as convayed by the plot your story, may not be as long as I thought!

Submitted by admin on Thu, 10/09/2008 - 07:39

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This shows that no matter who you are. No matter what you are. There is an end. This story is supposed to leave you hanging. The mystery is solved when you see yourself as the main character. Those who criticized and did not comprehend probably did not have their inner selves tuned in. I loved it. Keep up the excellent work.

Submitted by admin on Sun, 10/26/2008 - 21:15

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Oh dear, what a shame that so many folks on here failed to get what this story was about. Im not going to explain it again, as by reading over some of the previous comments (i.e. the ones written by people who can actually spell and construct a sentence) you can grasp the gist.

How disappointing that some people couldnt see beyond the bad language which wasnt half as offensive as the lack of linguistic skills possessed by some of the critics. The language was faithful to the character and as this piece was in the most part a character portrait. It is not only permissible but essential.

Well done for writing this interesting and sobering piece. Great move to write in 2nd person. Its just the right length for what you were trying to do and how on earth could anyone with a brain cell be confused by this story. Perhaps some people are relating to this character a bit too well so that they cant see the satire.

Loved your narrative voice.

Submitted by admin on Thu, 10/30/2008 - 09:50

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This story is very enjoyable. In the heartpounding adventure, I caught myself sweating from panic. I know it is just a story, but I got so caught up in it, it was like I was a character in it, waiting for the end. Waiting for everything to come down in destruction. I love the point of view the author has taken...an ignorant diva that doesnt understand. She will obviously learn, but it wont be easy to except for her. The storys interesting plot pulled me in. I didnt want the story to end.
Thank you for this interesting story, Mrs. Claes, for this two minute adventure you have prepared.

Submitted by admin on Thu, 10/30/2008 - 09:57

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Great Job!
i really enjoyed reading this short story,it made me wonder what i would do if our world came to an end. I also like how you wrote it in second person,i usually write my stories in first person or third but after reading your story,im might think about writting my next story in second person.

THANK YOU :)

Submitted by admin on Sat, 11/01/2008 - 04:48

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well honestly. . . . .at first i didnt understand the story and yeah,the ending is kinda "HANGING",but as i read it againi found out that this story has a sense and we can learn lesson from it.that"everything has an ending" . . . . . . more power for the author!!!!!!cj

Submitted by admin on Sun, 11/02/2008 - 19:59

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That was soooooo Cool. I loved it... U r such a good writer.
That is one of the best short storys I have ever read.... Keep on writing.. Im looking forward in reading more of your storys

Submitted by admin on Sat, 11/15/2008 - 03:11

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its silly

Submitted by admin on Sat, 11/15/2008 - 03:12

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nice

Submitted by admin on Tue, 11/18/2008 - 01:12

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Fabulous story.
Great great story.
I loved its message:
Death and destruction doesnt choose to kill only the poor, it kills everyone in its path including the rich and famous.
And the delusion of this famous person is extraordinary but seemingly realistic.

Submitted by admin on Thu, 11/20/2008 - 20:49

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I loved it! But, the end didnt make any sense to me!!! I want to know what happens! Does anyone else feel this way or is it just me? Is there more than 3 pages? Am I missing something? OH BOY! but i LOVEEDDDD the story!!!!!

Submitted by admin on Sat, 11/29/2008 - 01:05

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This short story should have ended after the first paragraph. I knew the way it would develop before reading the rest of it. Just way too predictable and cliched. Your mission as a writer is to introduce something new, or at least stimulating to entice the reader to read more. That, without a doubt, did not happen.

Submitted by admin on Tue, 12/02/2008 - 09:40

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I think this is a brilliant short story, I love the way it has been written in the 3rd person narrative. It really includes the reader and makes you feel part of it. I used this as a style model for my AS coursework, however changed the genre and audience etc...I wish this was a longer read!

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