Voices of the universe (english edition) E-Book

Elias J. Connor

• Herausgeber: FINN Books Edition FireFly
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025

Beschreibung

Sometimes our travels take us to places we can only imagine in our wildest dreams – distant lands, deserted islands – or even the entire universe. Janie is twelve years old. She loves to look out the window at night and observe the stars. She writes her thoughts and dreams in a notebook. Sometimes she wonders how she can be so special, unique, and yet so small in the vast universe. Janie grows up in a sheltered environment, but soon she realizes that life isn't just a place of love and dreams... The captivating novel VOICES OF THE UNIVERSE, which has also been adapted into a musical with 20 emotional songs, tells the moving story of Janie's life – from her childhood and youth to her old age.

Leseprobe

Elias J. Connor

Voices of the universe (english edition)

Inhaltsverzeichnis

Dedication

Chapter 1 - Somewhere in the universe

Chapter 2 - I see a light

Chapter 3 - You are in my heart

Chapter 4 - Brothers and sisters

Chapter 5 - Evolution

Chapter 6 - Even if I dare

Chapter 7 - A new chance

Chapter 8 - The voices of innocence

Chapter 9 - I'm not finished yet

Chapter 10 - Can't you see me?

Chapter 11 - An ocean in your eyes

Chapter 12 - I really love you

Chapter 13 - The wedding

Chapter 14 - The first day of your life

Chapter 15 - The wall

Chapter 16 - The war

Chapter 17 - Return to peace

Chapter 18 - The voices of the angels

Chapter 19 - Despite my heart calling goodbye

Chapter 20 - Eternity

The musical

About the author Elias J. Connor

Impressum

Dedication

For Jana.

Your dreams are deeply embedded in my songs, my stories and my heart.

Thank you for being here.

Elijah.

Chapter 1 - Somewhere in the universe

Amidst the infinite silence of nothingness, long before time and space had any meaning, the universe begins. An unimaginably small dot, heavier than anything imaginable, expands in a colossal event. Explosions of energy and light spread, the first building blocks of existence emerge. Nebulae dance through space, a symphony of chaos and order. Gravity intervenes, an invisible conductor directing the wild concert.

The first galaxies form, luminous spirals of billions of stars revolving around invisible centers. They are vast, yet only tiny drops in an endless ocean of darkness. In one of these galaxies, in one of the countless arms of the Milky Way, the birth of a special solar system begins. Gas and dust swirl around each other, attract each other, collide, merge, and form a young sun. All around them, planets form from bubbling matter, each unique, each a little mystery.

One of these planets would later be called Earth. At first, it was a fiery sphere, an inferno of lava and steam, illuminated by the light of its young sun. But over time, it cooled, water accumulated, and the first oceans formed. Deep in these primordial seas, at hot springs, in the darkness, life emerged. It was in this very place, and at this very time, that it began to pulsate. It began tiny, little more than simple molecules capable of replicating. But this life possessed an unbridled power: the ability to change, to adapt, to evolve.

Over millions of years, plants and animals evolved in a diversity that filled the planet. Forests expanded, mountains rose, rivers meandered through valleys, and countless species of living beings populated this world. Finally, from this diversity emerged a being capable of thinking, dreaming, and asking questions: the human being.

Viewed from space, Earth appears peaceful. A blue-green sphere. Shrouded in white bands of clouds, it floats silently in the darkness. Yet on its surface, life simmers. Forests rustle in the wind, animals roam the wilderness, and people, living in harmony with nature, tell stories around the campfire, dream of the stars, and search for their place in the universe.

In a corner of the world, in a small, sleepy town near the vast plains of Dallas, Texas, Janie sits at her window. It's a summer evening, and the air is heavy with the scent of blooming flowers and freshly cut grass. The sky is clear, and the moon hangs like a silver balloon over the landscape. The stars, countless and sparkling, form patterns that Janie has known since childhood—yet discovers anew each time.

Janie is twelve years old, a curious, bright girl with a love of books and adventure. Her room is filled with things that reflect her interests: a shelf full of books about astronomy, biology, and stories of brave explorers; a small telescope that her father gave her last Christmas; and drawings of constellations that she made herself, which hang on the walls.

Max, her old Labrador, lies stretched out at her feet, occasionally raising his head at a distant sound. Janie absentmindedly strokes his fur, her eyes still staring at the sky. She can't help but feel small as she watches the stars. The universe is so unimaginably vast, she thinks, and yet here she is—a tiny dot in the midst of it all.

"How big must it be?" she murmurs softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "And is there anyone out there who thinks the same way I do?" Her question remains unanswered, but she senses she's not alone. The thought that other worlds might exist somewhere out there, perhaps even life, fills her with a mixture of awe and excitement.

Outside the window, the small town spreads out in its typical tranquility. The streetlights cast soft light on the deserted sidewalks. Crickets chirp in the tall grass, and every now and then, Janie hears the distant roar of a motorcycle cruising down the main street. The world seems so peaceful, so simple. And yet, Janie feels that beneath the surface of this small town, indeed beneath the surface of her own life, lies something much greater.

"Maybe I'm like a star," she thinks. "A tiny dot in the universe, but with a story of its own." It's a thought that gives her courage. Sometimes she feels out of place at school, as if she doesn't fit into the world others have designed for her. But here, under the starry sky, she feels a connection to something beyond her imagination.

Max raises his head as Janie's mother calls from downstairs: "Janie, come down! It's time for dinner!"

But Janie stays seated a moment longer. Her hand rests on Max's head, and her eyes continue to scan the sky. It's as if she's trying to find an answer in the stars, confirmation that the universe sees her, that she matters—even if she's just a little girl in a small Texas town.

"I'll be right there!" she finally calls, slowly rising. But before she closes the window, she takes one last look out. "Maybe there really is someone out there," she thinks. "Maybe I'm not alone."

She smiles, a small, contented smile that only she can understand. Then she closes the window, takes Max by the leash, and goes downstairs. The universe can wait, she thinks. Tonight, she is a twelve-year-old girl, and life, in all its complexity and beauty, is right here with her.

Janie sits at the dining table while her parents talk to her. Her mother, a warm-hearted woman with dark curls, looks at her, her brow slightly frowning. Her father, tall and with rough hands from work, leans back and folds his arms. On the table between them is a simple plate with leftover mashed potatoes and fried chicken, which Janie has barely touched.

“Janie, honey,” her mother begins cautiously, “we’re worried about you.”

Janie looks up. Her eyes are large and alert, a soft brown that seems to be asking what she did wrong this time.

“Why?” she asks.

"You're constantly in your thoughts," her father says, shaking his head slightly. "You stare at the stars, write in your notebook, and sometimes it seems like you're not even really here."

"I'm here," Janie protests. She pushes her plate slightly aside. "I'm talking to you. I'm eating with you. I'm here."

"That's true, dear," her mother says, gently placing her hand on Janie's. "But you also need to be a little more in the here and now. You can't just dream all the time."

"Why not?" Janie asks. Her voice rises, a hint of frustration lingering. "What's so bad about dreaming?"

"Because the world isn't made up of dreams," her father replies, a little sharper this time. "You have to focus on school, prepare for life. You can't spend your whole life making things up."

Janie bites her lip. This isn't the first time they've had this discussion. She understands that her parents only want the best for her, but they can't fathom what's going on in her head. To them, the stars are just stars, far away and intangible. For Janie, they're something much bigger: a promise, a secret to be discovered.

“Maybe the world is made up of dreams,” she murmurs, looking at her hands.

Her father sighs and shakes his head, while her mother forces a smile.

"It's okay to dream sometimes," she says more gently. "But don't forget that life happens here, with us, on Earth. Do you understand that?"

Janie nods, but in her heart she knows she doesn't understand—and maybe doesn't want to.

After dinner, she sneaks back to her room. Max follows her, his paws making soft taps on the wooden floorboards. Janie closes the door and leans against it for a moment, relieved to be alone again. The familiar scent of her room—a mix of wood, paper, and the hint of lavender her mother sometimes sprays—calms her.

She sits down at her desk and picks up her notebook. It's a thick, leather-bound book she inherited from her grandmother. The pages are slightly yellowed, but to Janie, it's a treasure. She opens it and flips through the first few pages, which are full of notes, sketches of constellations, and scraps of thoughts.

With a pencil in her hand she begins to write.

Why am I here? Why do I exist? Sometimes I wonder if the universe has a plan for me. I'm just a little girl in a small town, but when I look up at the stars, I feel connected to something bigger. Maybe there's someone out there who feels the same way I do. Someone who also lies awake at night wondering why things are the way they are.

She pauses, staring at her words. Max nudges her with his nose, and she gently strokes his head.

"What do you think, Max?" she asks quietly. "Am I really that special? Or am I just... small?"

Max doesn't answer, but his warm breath somehow comforts her. She closes her notebook and puts her pen down. Her gaze wanders to the window, and the clear night sky draws her in again. It's as if the stars are calling to her, their small, twinkling lights like guideposts in an endless darkness.

That night, Janie dreams. It's a strange dream, one that feels more real than being awake.

She stands in the middle of a vast, dark space that stretches in all directions. The stars are everywhere, so close she can almost reach out and touch them. A feeling of lightness floods her, and when she looks down, she notices that her feet are no longer touching the ground. She's floating.

"This is incredible," she murmurs, laughing softly with joy. Her voice echoes through the expanse.

Suddenly, she begins to move. It's not flying in the traditional sense—she simply thinks about moving forward, and her body follows her will. She floats past stars whose glowing surfaces she can feel even though she doesn't touch them. Past nebulae glowing in colors she's never seen before. The galaxy stretches out before her, an infinite spiral of light and darkness.

"This is the Milky Way," she whispers. Her eyes are wide open, the colors and shapes taking her breath away. "I'm really here."

Suddenly, a bright beam of light appears before her, and she is drawn into it. For a moment, she feels as if she's falling, but then the space opens up before her again, and she sees the galaxy from the outside. It's smaller than she ever imagined, yet so majestic. A glowing spiral of stars, gas clouds, and darkness.

"Is that really all?" she asks into the empty space. "Or is there more?"

A deep, warm voice answers, although no one is visible.

"There's always more, Janie. You are part of something infinite, and yet you yourself are infinite."

"But how can I be that?" she asks. "I'm just a girl."

"Every spark of light, every thought, every question is part of the whole," says the voice. "You too are a shining star. Born from the dust of the stars, to which you will one day return."

The words fill Janie with a feeling she can't describe. It's as if she truly understands for the first time that she isn't alone—that her dreams, her thoughts, her questions are all part of a greater whole.

When she wakes up, her room is filled with the first rays of sunlight. Max is curled up next to her bed, snoring softly. Janie sits up and immediately reaches for her notebook. Her hand trembles slightly as she begins to write down her dream.

I saw the galaxy. It's beautiful. I heard a voice. It said I'm a part of everything and that I shine like a star. I don't know if it was real, but it felt real. Maybe I'm not as small as I thought. Maybe my dreams aren't just dreams.

When she's finished, she closes the notebook and looks out into the clear morning sky. The stars are no longer visible, but she knows they're there, somewhere beyond the blue veil. She smiles.

"Maybe they're right," she murmurs. "Maybe I really am a star."

Chapter 2 - I see a light

Summer vacation is over, and the morning sun bathes the streets in a warm, golden light. But Janie doesn't feel ready for the first day of school. Her thoughts keep wandering to the stars and the dream she had a few weeks ago. It felt like the universe was trying to tell her something important, but the reality of school tears her from those thoughts. With a heavy sigh, she throws her backpack over her shoulder and sets off.

The school is loud and lively. Children run around, laughing, and shouting news to each other. Janie stops at the edge of the schoolyard, watches the activity, and suddenly feels small and out of place. She had hoped the summer would last longer, that she'd have more time for her dreams.

"Janie!" Her friend Clara's voice tears her from her thoughts. Clara waves to her from across the yard, but Janie just raises her hand briefly and mumbles an apology that she has to hurry to the classroom. Clara frowns, but she lets Janie go.

The biology classroom is cool and smells of old textbooks. Janie sits down in her seat in the second row and pulls out her materials. Next to her sits Sebastian, a boy with messy brown hair and glasses that he keeps pushing up whenever they slip off his nose. Janie barely knows him; they've never really spoken. He's quiet, withdrawn, and always seems lost in his own thoughts—just like her.

But something seems to be different today.

"Good morning, class," begins Mrs. Winters, the biology teacher, handing out papers. "We're starting the school year with a little test. Don't worry, it's just a review of last year's topics."

Janie freezes. A test? She has no idea what it's about. For her, summer vacation was filled with thoughts about the universe, not cell biology or ecosystems. She looks at the page in front of her and feels panic rising within her.

Sebastian seems to notice. As Mrs. Winters turns around to write something on the board, he leans slightly toward Janie.

“You need help?” he whispers, his voice barely audible.

Janie looks at him, surprised.

“What?” she whispers back.

"The test," he says, discreetly pointing at his own work with his pencil. "I can help you if you want."

Janie hesitates. She's never cheated on a test before, but the blank spaces on her paper scream at her. Reluctantly, she nods, and Sebastian slides his paper so she can see it. His answers are clear and precise. She copies them, her heart pounding. Mrs. Winters turns around, but Sebastian immediately puts his paper back as if nothing untoward had happened.

After the test, Janie leans back, adrenaline pumping through her body. She glances quickly at Sebastian.

"Thank you," she whispers, but he doesn't respond. He just nods slightly and looks forward again.

During recess, Janie retreats to a corner of the schoolyard, far away from the other students. She sits on a bench under an old tree and pulls her knees up to her chest. The memory of the test and Sebastian's help haunts her. It was nice of him to help her, but now she feels guilty. She's always tried to be honest, and cheating isn't like her. At the same time, she can't deny how grateful she is.

And then there's Sebastian himself. Something about him fascinates her. He seems calm and collected, as if nothing could faze him. He seems wiser and more mature than he should be for his age, and that impresses Janie. But she shakes her head.

“No,” she murmurs to herself. “I can’t think like that.”

The bell rings, and the students file back into the classrooms. Janie remains seated for a moment before slowly rising and returning to the building.

The rest of the day passes slowly, and Janie can barely concentrate. When school ends, she grabs her things and leaves the building as quickly as possible. She doesn't want anyone to guess her thoughts, especially not Sebastian. The thought that he might notice how much she's thinking about him makes her nervous.

Once home, she retreats to her room. She throws her backpack into the corner, grabs her notebook, and collapses onto the bed. Pen in hand, she begins to write.

Today was a strange day. I cheated. I've never done it before, but I was so desperate. Sebastian helped me, and I don't know why. He's so calm and smart. I think I like him. But I can't show it to him. What if he laughs at me? Or what if he thinks I'm weird?

She puts her pen down and looks out the window. The first stars appear in the sky, and she wonders if she's alone with her worries. Surely there's someone out there who's having similar thoughts.

"Maybe he's a star too," she murmurs. The thought makes her smile. But she knows she has to keep her feelings to herself. She doesn't want to risk making a fool of herself or ruining what might have become a friendship.

"I'll just be myself," she whispers as she closes the notebook. "And if he notices, that's his problem."

With a small smile, she turns off the lamp and goes to sleep. The stars outside continue to twinkle, and Janie feels a little closer to them as she gazes into the darkness.

A few days have passed since Sebastian helped Janie with her biology test. School is back in full swing, and Janie has tried to keep her thoughts away from him. But she keeps finding herself wondering why he helped her—and why she feels so attracted to him.

One sunny afternoon, as Janie sits in her room, working on a new entry in her notebook, there's a knock at the front door. Downstairs, she hears the muffled voices of her parents and a voice she immediately recognizes.

“Is that…?” she murmurs, slowly standing up.

A few minutes later, there's a knock on her bedroom door. Her mother pokes her head in, a broad smile on her lips.

"Janie, Sebastian is here. Is it okay if he comes in?"

Janie is speechless. Her heart is pounding so loudly she thinks her mother must hear it. "Um... yeah, sure."

Sebastian enters, an uncertain smile on his face. He's wearing a plain T-shirt and jeans, and his glasses are slightly crooked, as always. Janie's mother winks at her before closing the door and leaving the two of them alone.

"Hey," says Sebastian, taking a step forward. "I hope it's okay that I stopped by. I wanted to say thank you."

“Thank you?” Janie looks at him confused.

"For what you said the other day during recess. Well, not exactly, but... you showed me with your look that I should help you. It was kind of... nice to help someone for once."

Janie laughs quietly.

"I don't think you're the one who should be thanking me. Without you, I would have totally failed the test."

Sebastian smiles, and for a moment the atmosphere is relaxed. But then Janie feels the silence growing heavy. She points to a chair near her desk.

“Would you like to sit down?”

Sebastian nods and takes a seat, while Janie sits on the bed. Their room is small but cozy. Books and notebooks are piled high on the desk, and posters of constellations and galaxies hang on the wall. Sebastian looks around, his eyes catching on the pictures.

“You like the universe, don’t you?” he finally asks.

Janie nods slowly.

"Yes, sort of. It's infinite. Full of mysteries. Sometimes I wonder if we even matter when everything is so vast."

Sebastian looks at her attentively.

"That sounds lonely. Do you really believe that? That we don't matter?" He runs his hand through his hair and looks deeply into Janie.

"Sometimes," she admits. "But sometimes I also think that it's precisely our little dreams and thoughts that make us important. It's as if each of us is a small spark in something much bigger."

Sebastian remains silent for a while and seems to think about her words.

"That's kind of... nice. I mean, I've never thought about it that way. You're right, we're small, but maybe that doesn't make us any less important."

Janie smiles.

“You understand that?”

"Yes," he says quietly. "And I think you're pretty special. Not many people think like you."

Janie's heart beats faster. She looks at him, unsure whether to express her feelings. But before she loses her courage, she blurts out: "I like you, Sebastian."

His eyes widen slightly, but then he smiles.

“I like you too, Janie.”

A brief silence ensues, but this time it doesn't feel awkward. Janie leans forward slightly, and Sebastian does the same. Their lips meet in a tender, uncertain kiss that lasts only a moment, but feels like an eternity for both of them.

As they lean back, they look at each other, both slightly red in the face.

“Should we keep this to ourselves?” Janie asks cautiously.

Sebastian nods. "Yes. That's... our secret."

Janie smiles. "Okay. Shall we swear it?"

Sebastian raises his hand, and Janie follows suit. "I swear," they say simultaneously, laughing quietly.

For the rest of the afternoon, they talk about all sorts of things—school, their favorite movies, and, of course, the stars. Sebastian is fascinated by Janie's thoughts, and Janie realizes that for the first time, she feels truly understood.

When Sebastian leaves later, Janie feels lighter and happier than ever. She watches him from the window as he walks down the street, and a warm feeling spreads through her.

She knows that their relationship is still young and fragile, but she feels confident that she and Sebastian can trust each other.

In the evening, when she writes in her notebook, she writes down only two words: Our secret.

And with a contented smile she falls asleep.

In the days and weeks that follow, Janie and Sebastian manage to hide their fledgling relationship from the others. They only look at each other from a distance during recess, meet secretly after school near the small wood on the edge of town, or send each other short, coded messages in their notebooks when class is boring. Janie is happy when she's with Sebastian, and the world feels less lonely.

But Sebastian seems to be growing increasingly restless. During recess, he laughs loudly with his friends, plays basketball with them, and tries to pay as little attention to Janie as possible. She senses he's trying to maintain a facade, but she says nothing. She doesn't want to put pressure on him.

On a clear Tuesday morning during second recess, Janie and Sebastian stand at the edge of the schoolyard, hidden behind an old tree that provides shade. It's a place the others rarely visit. Janie leans against the trunk and looks at Sebastian, a smile on her lips.

"Did you see the sky yesterday?" she asks. "The stars were so clear. I almost felt like I could touch them."

Sebastian smiles weakly, but his eyes are fixed on the schoolyard where his friends are playing basketball.

"Yeah, sure," he murmurs. "It was nice."

Janie notices his distraction.

"Everything okay?"

Before Sebastian can answer, loud voices suddenly sound behind them.

"Hey, look who's back there! Cool Sebastian and... Janie?"

Janie and Sebastian turn around. A group of three boys from Sebastian's clique approaches, led by Tim, a lanky boy with a sharp tongue.

"What are you doing here all alone?" Tim asks with a mocking grin. "Are you talking about stardust or something?"

The other boys laugh, and Sebastian hastily takes a step back from Janie.

“No, we… I was just explaining something to her,” he says quickly.

"Explained?" Tim raises his eyebrows and looks at the two. "But that looked more like a hug."

The boys laugh again, and Janie feels her face heat up.

"Man, Sebastian, are you with that dreamer now?" another boy asks. "You could have chosen something better."

Janie feels the words hit her like a blow. She opens her mouth to say something, but her voice fails.

Sebastian laughs uncertainly with the others.

"Nonsense. I have nothing going on with her. You're crazy."

"Well, that doesn't look like much," says Tim, nudging Sebastian with his elbow. "Just be careful she doesn't start telling you some weird star stories."

The boys finally move on, still laughing and grinning, leaving Janie and Sebastian alone. Janie stares at the ground, her hands shaking.

“Janie, I…” Sebastian begins, but she raises her head and looks at him.

"It's okay," she says quietly. "I understand."

But inside she feels like a part of her is breaking.

The rest of the school day passes in a blur. Janie tries to concentrate on the lesson, but the boys' words echo in her head. In the afternoon, Sebastian is waiting for her outside the school.

“Can we talk for a moment?” he asks as she tries to walk past him.

She stops, nods silently, and together they walk a little way down the street until they come to a small playground, which is deserted at this time of day.

Sebastian seems nervous. He pushes up his glasses and kicks a small stone in front of him.

"Listen, Janie," he begins without looking at her. "I really like you. I really do. But... this isn't working out between us."

Janie stops as if she'd been hit by an invisible blow. "What do you mean?"

"It's just... too difficult." Sebastian finally looks at her, his eyes filled with guilt. "My friends wouldn't understand. They'd tease me about it, and I... I don't want that. I can't handle the pressure."

Janie feels her heart sink to the ground.

"So you're like them now? You're afraid they might laugh at you?"

"This isn't fair," says Sebastian, his voice strained. "I just... I don't want to be the underdog. Don't you understand that?"

"I've been an outsider my whole life!" Janie exclaims, her voice breaking. "And you know what? I've come to terms with it. But I thought you were different."

Sebastian looks at her, his shoulders slumping.

"I'm sorry," he finally says quietly. "I... I can't do this."

“So it was all just a mistake?” Janie asks, her voice a whisper.

"No," he says quickly. "That wasn't it. You're special, Janie. You really are special. But I... I'm not worth it."

She looks at him for a moment, then shakes her head.

"That's cowardly, Sebastian. You're a coward."

He lowers his gaze.

“Maybe you’re right.”

Without another word, he turns around and leaves.

At home, Janie locks herself in her room. Her mother calls to her that dinner will be ready soon, but she ignores it. She throws herself on the bed, buries her face in the pillow, and cries.

The words of Sebastian's friends, his apology, everything swirls around in her head. She feels betrayed, not only by him, but also by herself. She thought she had found someone who understood her, who stood by her.

When the tears finally stop, she reaches for her notebook. Her hand trembles as she puts the pen to her hand, but she begins to write.

Maybe the universe really is too big. Maybe we're all just sparks that flicker briefly and then burn out. But then why does it hurt so much when a spark goes out?

She puts her pen down and stares out the window. The stars begin to appear in the sky, but this time they offer her no comfort. She feels smaller and more insignificant than ever.

But deep inside she also feels a spark of defiance.

"I'm special," she murmurs, her voice raspy. "Even if he doesn't see it. Even if no one else sees it."

With this thought, she closes the notebook and stares into the night. She knows the pain won't go away immediately, but she vows to herself that she will never stop believing in her dreams—no matter what others say.

Chapter 3 - You are in my heart

It's a warm spring evening, and the air smells of freshly cut grass and blooming flowers. Janie sits on the porch, knees drawn up, gazing at the stars. The sky is clear, and the stars shine brighter than usual. She can make out Orion's Belt and the shimmering band of the Milky Way stretching across the sky like a delicate veil.

“I wonder how many worlds are out there?” she murmurs quietly to herself.

Janie loves sitting outside in the evenings and dreaming. The stars are like old friends to her, comforting her and making her feel that there is something greater than everyday worries.

But tonight, other thoughts are forcing their way into her head. Sebastian. Even though nine months have passed, she still feels the sting when she thinks of him. Since their breakup, they've barely spoken. He's withdrawn completely into his clique, and Janie has learned to bury her sadness in her notebook and the stars.

Suddenly, her peace is interrupted by loud voices. The windows of the house are open, and Janie recognizes her parents' voices.

"You're hardly ever home anymore, Daniel!" her mother exclaims. "You come late, leave early, and when you're here, you don't even talk to us!"

"What am I supposed to do, Claire?" her father replies, his voice tired and irritated. "I'm working. I'm making sure we have this house, that Janie has everything she needs."

"Everything she needs?" Her mother laughs bitterly. "You don't even notice how she's withdrawing more and more. She hardly talks to me anymore, and to you... you don't know anything about her!"

Janie holds her breath. She crouches on the porch, unsure whether to ignore or continue listening.

"That's not true," her father replies, but his voice sounds less convinced. "Janie's just... she's a quiet child."

"No, Daniel," her mother says sharply. "She's not just quiet. She's lonely. And we didn't even realize how it happened."

There is a short pause, then her father speaks more quietly, almost pleadingly.

"What do you want me to do, Claire? Should I quit my job? And then what? How do we pay the bills?"

"It's not about quitting your job," her mother replies. "It's about us becoming a family again. But the way things are now... things can't go on like this."

Silence again, broken only by the chirping of crickets. Then Janie hears her mother say, "Maybe we should take a break. Maybe... maybe a divorce would be better."

The word cuts through the air like a knife, and Janie feels her stomach clench. Divorce? She doesn't quite understand what it means, but the sound of the word alone terrifies her.

Her father protests, but his words are muffled, as if he's holding back to keep from shouting. Janie doesn't stay a moment longer. She quietly sneaks into the house, avoiding the creaking floorboards as carefully as possible.

In her room, she closes the door and turns the key in the lock. She sits on the bed, her knees drawn up, and tries to organize her thoughts.

“Divorce…” she whispers.

What would that mean? Would her father move out? Would she lose her mother? Suddenly, the house she always felt safe seems cold and strange.

She grabs her notebook and writes hastily.

What happens to a star when it breaks apart? When the forces holding it together weaken? Does it disintegrate? And if so, what happens to the planets orbiting it? Will they be lost in the darkness?

Her hand trembles as she puts the pen down. Tears stream down her cheeks, and she hastily wipes them away. She wants to be strong, but the fear is overwhelming.

A knock on her door makes her jump. It's her mother.

“Janie? Are you okay, honey?”

Janie clears her throat and answers as calmly as possible: "Yes, Mom. Everything's fine."

"Are you coming down soon? Dinner's ready soon."

“I’m not hungry,” says Janie, her voice weak.

Her mother hesitates.

"Okay. If you need anything, I'll be downstairs."

Janie hears her mother's footsteps receding, and she breathes a sigh of relief. She lies down in bed, the covers pulled up to her chin, and stares at the ceiling.

The stars, she thinks, would be a good distraction right now. But even they seem out of reach today.

As the days pass, Janie feels as if she's sinking further and further into herself. Her thoughts constantly revolve around what she overheard. The cold silence between her parents, the tense atmosphere at their shared meals—all of this hurts her, even if no one talks about it directly.

Her mother seems more exhausted than usual, her eyes often red. Her father is home even less often, and when he is, he hardly speaks. Janie wants to say something, ask something, but the words stick in her throat. She feels like her questions would only create more problems.

She spends more and more time in her room.

---ENDE DER LESEPROBE---